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a/n: phewww its been a while since i wrote a jjk fic. i had this in the works for months but i lose motivation very easily so i put it on pause while i worked on other fics and focused on my irl life but i finally found the time today to actually finish it. anywho, i hope yall like it!! (also exclusive news pt 2 is currently being worked on.)
Geto swore he'd assassinate every single non-sorcerer that existed, starting with the very village he grew up in.
His first targets were his own parents, followed by the rest of the villagers.
He took their lives so easily but when he was now face-to-face with you, drenched in the blood of the same people who'd once been his biggest supporters in his journey to sorcery, he couldn't seem to move a finger.
He couldn't hurt you, despite you being another one of the 'monkeys'.
It was stupid, really, how easily he massacred an entire neighborhood yet fell weak to the girl who'd grown up alongside him.
But he promised not to be unfair, he promised not to back out of his plans to make the world a place where only sorcerers would exist.
"Geto?"
Your trembling voice would call out to him as he took a step towards you, one by one. Each step was a countdown, marking your inevitable end.
You spoke like you couldn't recognize him. The way you uttered his name sounded different than you used to in the park, when the two of you were nothing but two careless kids chasing each other. He'd pretend to shoot you, and you'd play dead, then erupt into a fit of giggles when the breeze blew the sand onto your face.
"Geto!"
You'd call as you ran to him whenever his mom gave him permission to go to the park. It'd always been you and him. Your parents were convinced you'd get married, and the two of you never opposed the idea either. Instead, you'd have a fake wedding where the only audience present would be a tiny puppy and three crows in the sky.
Now you were here, hazy eyes glued to the blood staining his pale skin, his long hair greased with the remnants of the massacre. You didn't step back. You didn't step forward. You simply stood as six crows flew above you in the dark night sky.
There were no clouds, and the lights in every house had been turned off. It was a cruel reminder of how each of them had gone to sleep as usual, unaware that the very boy they watched grow up would be the reason they never woke up again.
The entire thing was a blur. He hurried it because he knew that he'd be unable to do it if he waited any longer. In seconds, you were on the floor. In a matter of time, your heart had been pierced by his blade and finally rested after the years it had spent beating.
You fell to the ground on your back, arms sprawled out, as blood spilled from between your lips and from deep within your chest. The heart that would once beat quickly in his presence now spilling out just as rapidly.
You would not get back up this time. You would not smile at him and laugh again in that same childish way you used to.
He knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he closed your lifeless eyes. He leaned down a pressed a kiss to your cold temple, before lifting himself back up. He tore his gaze away from you and walked, leaving behind the very place he had spent his entire childhood and the person he had spent it with.
i would also like to bring attention to some other major protests happening across India. I will attempt to make a separate, long-form post on each after i have done more research, but for now:
Manipur protest: Manipur, one of India’s northeastern states, has witnessed violent ethnic conflict between the majority Meitei community and the minority tribal Kuki community since 3 May 2023. Protests are ongoing.
Ken-Betwa River Link Project protest: Tribal families affected by the Ken-Betwa river-linking project launched a 'Chita Andolan' (funeral pyre protest). Led primarily by tribal women, the protest has been underway since July 3 on the banks of the Barana river near Kupi village. The agitation opposed the Ken-Betwa river-linking project and other development works. Their leader, Amit Bhatnagar is on the 18th day of his hunger strike. He is still in the ICU at Madhya Pradesh’s Chhattarpur District Hospital, where he was admitted on July 19. Though he was to be discharged yesterday morning, hospital authorities have not yet permitted his discharge.
Karnataka AI Township Land Acquisition protest: Greater Bengaluru Integrated Township (GBIT) is being developed across Bidadi and Harohalli, roughly 40 km from Bengaluru, spread over nearly 9,600 acres. This will displace farmers.
Nakti demolition drive protest: Residents of Nakti village, whose houses were demolished during an anti-encroachment drive for the proposed MLA colony, staged a protest at the Raipur Collectorate on Wednesday, demanding rehabilitation and reconstruction of their homes.
Amazon Data Centre Protest: Several hundred people staged a protest against a proposed data centre of Amazon in Balkum area of Thane city. It would pose an environmental threat, create noise pollution and consume large amounts of water and electricity. The data centre, planned on a 53-acre plot, will require at least 12 million litres of water every day besides "unlimited electricity". It was also apprehended that it would generate continuous noise, posing a health risk as large residential complexes, five schools and three hospitals including a children's hospital are located within its one km radius.
a/n: i wasn't joking when i wrote in my bio that i write whatever i think of loll. this has also made me realize how terrible i am with titles. there's not nearly enough 'x reader' fics on this man and that is so not okay. i hope you guys like reading this!!
(ps: for the people who saw my last post before i deleted it, i am better now and will be returning to my irregular schedule of writing!!)
"____,"
The voice of the new ERPB inspector called out to you, catching you off-guard. The hallways were empty. Classes were over for the day, and you'd been on your way home after working later than usual. You quickly adjusted your glasses and turned around to face the intimidatingly taller man.
He'd been lurking around the school for the past two days, specifically in your classes. He'd witnessed how you'd explain everything so gently to the students while none of them cared enough to listen, how you gave teaching your all while they seemed preoccupied with their own devices.
He'd noticed how well you'd present yourself each day, with a bright smile that sparkled up your eyes despite the students' disrespect.
.☆°☆•
DAY 1:
"Ms. ____, isn't your skirt a bit too short today? Are you trying to impress someone?"
The student laughed as he pointed out something which was in no way related to the literature you were teaching, and also completely false considering the skirt reached your knees. Hwa-Jin observed the interaction from the corner, arms crossed and eyes glaring into the back of the students' head.
"Ah, no, that's not it. I wore it because it matched my top."
You'd smile and respond politely before bringing everyone back into whatever Robert Frost you were reciting. The inspector noticed the way they all went back to doing their own thing. He didn't interrupt this time.
He listened to your lesson while also keeping track of which student stood out most when it came to disrespecting you.
.☆°☆•
DAY 2:
"Ooh, you're wearing jewelry today. I knew it, you are trying to impress someone. Is it that inspector? You've been dressing up a lot since he came here."
The same student from the previous day spoke out again. Tae-Byun was his name, Hwa-Jin had made Geun-Dae do his research the previous night. Around the school, the girls referred to him as 'Byun-Tae' instead, which meant 'Pervert'.
It was clear you weren't the sole target to his comments when such a name circulated around the entire building amongst every teacher and every student.
You took in a deep breath and got ready to sweetly dismiss his comment again, only to be cut off.
"No, it's-"
"Does that really matter right now? Are you learning literature or fashion?"
Hwa-Jin interrupted you abruptly, his eyes landing on the student who had the audacity to disrespect you a second time in his presence. He'd let the first one slide, but he was starting to get agitated too.
He couldn't explain why he felt so much more frustrated than usual when it came to you. He'd dealt with disrespectful students a million times but something about the way he spoke to you made the inspector's blood boil.
"No way, I was totally right. You're defending your girl, aren't you?"
You stared at the tense interaction between the two, silent since you knew you should just let the ERPB do their job. But you didn't want any of the students to end up injured as a result, you'd heard multiple times of the consequences other rebellious people had faced.
"So what if I am?"
Hwa-jin responded casually as he stood up straight, away from the wall where he had been leaning, and approached the student seated down on his desk.
You couldn't help the way your heart raced at the fact that he didn't deny it. No, not just that, but he played into the comment. He didn't even seem affected by it, and you made sure to act like you weren't either.
To act like the student hadn't been right on the dot when he called you out for dressing up to impress a certain inspector.
The ring of the bell broke you out of your thoughts, and Hwa-jin finally backed away from the student. He leaned back against the wall, face tilting up to look at you as the students ran out before you could even dismiss them.
You knew you couldn't control them as they hurried away, the same way you couldn't control the racing of your heart when you were alone in the classroom with the inspector.
"I'm sorry about what he said. It was totally out of line, especially when he knows about your-"
"Don't worry, I didn't mind it. It's about time I moved on like that old man said anyways."
He sighed before leaving the room as well. Your heart was beating even faster than before. He didn't mind people assuming you two were in a relationship? He was trying to move on from his dead fiance because of you?
You shook your head, trying to shake away the thoughts along with it. No, you were overthinking it. He'd started this entire project with his father-in-law as a result of the violence she'd endured that took her life. There was no way in hell a man of that sort would ever think of being with a doormat like you, let alone move on from the incident because of a teacher that was easily controlled by the students.
.☆°☆•
PRESENT TIME:
"Ah, sorry. We're not on first name basis yet."
"I don't mind!"
You replied a little too quickly, causing him to pause and stare down at you as you mentally beat yourself up over the enthusiasm.
"I mean, I think referring to each other in any other way would be too formal. We're not exactly strangers at this point, are we?"
Two days was all it took to have you over-explaining yourself like a fool to make sure he didn't get the wrong impression of you. Two days, and you were already acting like you guys were friends and he wasn't a stranger.
"We're not that close either."
He responded in that same tone he always used with every student and every teacher. You had never had more of an urge to bury yourself deep into the ground. You hoped the ground would open up and suck you within, that you could hibernate beneath the Earth's surface until the ERPB had finished their duty.
Of course, it'd only been two days. You were closer to strangers than anything else.
"You're right. Sorry, I got ahead of myself..."
You laughed awkwardly, giving him a smile so forced that it made the entire situation much worse. You let the horrifying moment of silence sit between you two before drifting your gaze back to his polished shoes.
"The next time a student speaks out like that to you, don't just stand there and take it."
His advice brought you back to reality as you turned your gaze back up to face him again, expecting him to point it out but not so randomly.
"It wasn't that big of a deal. All he said is that I'm dressing up to impress someone, I don't want to be too harsh on him over a comment."
And also because you knew the student had been completely right. You dressed up for Na Hwa-Jin the last two days. The damn inspector who was uncaring and solely here for the purpose of fulfilling his job.
"It's not one comment though, is it? And it's not only about you, think of all the other girls in this school having to deal with his comments. All the diligent students being disturbed because one couldn't shut his mouth up."
You were silent as you processed his words. He had a point. The reason he'd even earned the name of 'Byun-Tae' around campus was because he would repeatedly disturb every existing female around him. You took in a breath and acknowledged his words with a nod.
"If a teacher won't help her students, then who will? They all rely on you, ____, to be the responsible adult for them."
You let out the breath you were holding until you stopped breathing entirely. There it was, your first name again. You understood what he was saying, you processed the way he said it like he was teaching you a lesson you should've learnt from the beginning, and then you finally heard your name.
"I thought we weren't close enough for first names yet?"
"I changed my mind."
And then he walked off like he hadn't absolutely shattered your heart seconds ago by acting distant then stitched the pieces back up together by acting like that never happened.
That night, your heart decided to stop helping you. You followed the same procedure you always did whenever it decided to turn on you.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Close your eyes.
The first three steps failed entirely, so you skipped over to the last one instead of repeatedly trying again. If you closed your eyes, you wouldn't be able to see anything. Surely, you'd fall asleep naturally.
But when you did, all you could see was him dressed in all black. His perfectly done hair, those wrinkles that looked like they'd been sculpted with loving hands, and his eyes.
Oh, his eyes.
You let out a sigh as your eyes fluttered open again, realizing you were never escaping this mess you had gotten yourself into.
.☆°☆•
THE NEXT DAY:
You thought of the multiple ways you could discipline Tae-Byun today while teaching your class, noticing his absence but assuming it was a result of his habit of constantly being late. A scolding as the first warning, ruler to the hand as the second, standing in the corner of the class as the third, sent to the principal as the fou-
You could barely finish your thoughts when the door to the class was shoved open by the inspector, before he threw inside a disheveled Tae-Byun.
His pants were ripped upto his knees, exposing the rest of his legs. His collar was ripped open, exposing his collarbones. His shoes were barely on, exposing the dirty underside of his clearly unwashed socks. Aside from his appearance, bruises coated the side of his face as if he'd been slapped multiple times, the blood staining his lips matching the shade of lipstick on yours.
"He seemed really interested in your top, so I gave him a similar one. I hope you don't mind."
Hwa-Jin stated with a grin before quickly switching back to his serious look, dragging the student across the floor and to his desk.
Class resumed like normal with no interruptions, but you could feel the inspector's eyes staring at your back as you turned towards the board. It seemed you didn't even have to discipline him for now, not when he was there like some sort of bodyguard.
Once classes ended, Tae-Byun stumbled back home. He avoided his usual route to prevent coming across both you and the inspector. You stood outside your class, mumbling underneath your breath as you fiddled with the bracelet around your wrist, reciting what you'll say when you see him.
He'll be leaving today, now that his lesson had been taught. He'd made sure both you and your terrible student had each learned the value of existing in a school, and the difference in responsibility which was present between a teacher and a student.
"'Thank you, Mr. Inspecto-' Ah, that's way too much. 'I really appreciate what you did for me today, Hwa-Jin'. Geez, I don't think I should call him by his first name. We're not that close anyways."
You sighed again as you tossed your head back against the wall, the deep exhale now a part of your hourly routine whenever you thought of him. You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, and decided to say whatever came into your mind first.
"Na Hwa-Jin, I'm really glad you were there today. Thank you for the help, and for...teaching me to be a better teacher. I appreciate your advice, I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you for opening my eyes-"
"You could always make it up to me over dinner."
You didn't even want to open your eyes when you heard his voice. You felt like banging your head into the wall until you were out of this reality where he'd heard every single word you'd uttered. 'Opening my eyes', really? You couldn't think of anything better that sounded less like you were worshipping him?
But then you processed his words, and your eyes shot open. He wanted to go to dinner with you? He was asking you out on a date?
"I'm not asking you out."
He clarified as if he could read your mind through your wide eyes. The sudden flutter you'd felt in your stomach died down, only to be brought back as quickly and confusingly.
"I'm asking you to ask me out. Your treat."
What kind of guy even was he? One second, he could be a gentleman fighting off people that dared to disrespect you. Then you take another glance, and he's asking you to pay to take him out on a date and playing difficult with you by purposefully phrasing his sentences in that way.
Oh well, you couldn't care less in this moment. It was too good of an offer to pass up.
"Does barbeque work?"
You asked with a slight smile, removing your reading glasses now that classes were no longer in session. You placed them in your purse as you began walking, knowing well that he was matching your pace beside you.
You didn't know if this would turn into something more, you weren't a fortune teller to predict the future, but you didn't want to either. You wanted to live in this moment, where the two of you were leaving behind the empty school to enjoy barbecue together.
And maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be the last time you saw each other.
thank you guys so much for all the love on this fic!! i never actually expected to gather such a large audience when i wrote my first work here. ty guys so much for all the love and support, yall are the best ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ
Can you please do one where yn joins the ERPB or is a journalist or a teacher (whatever suits you best)
It's basically aimed on na hwa jin finding love again when he thought it'd be the hardest.
EXCLUSIVE NEWS!!
NA HWA-JIN X JOURNALIST! READER
[ PART : 1 ] | [ PART : 2 ]
—
(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
a/n: I've decided to release this in parts instead as the story was stretching out and i loved this idea so, so much so i really didn't want to rush it and put out a hurried story. im very sorry about the long wait, unfortunately my exams are never-ending and the worldwide news has been really affecting me and my motivation to do anything as well. im not exactly sure when the second part will come out but I'll try to make it soon!!
-> '____' is to be inserted with reader.
ᕙ(͡°‿ ͡°)ᕗ
Ever since the ERPB had come into existence, the media had attempted to tear them apart entirely. They spread propaganda against the minister, against the ERPB, and even against Hwa-jin himself by stating that his motives were far more personal.
That he wasn't doing this out of care or to bring change, but for his own personal vendetta. To some extent, he couldn't deny the slight truth behind the words. He did initially agree to it because of what had happened to Gayun, but that wasn't the sole reason. The loss of his love had only opened his eyes to the reality of many others.
It was a terrible habit of Hwa-jin's to go through each article that dug deep into his wounds, reading each word carefully. The only way to know when a sentence had impacted him was by the faint clench of his jaw.
He'd scrolled through multiple media outlets speaking on the ERPB and discovered that there was little to no support for him. That was until a certain headline blared at him on the bright screen of his phone.
'THE CHANGE WE NEVER ASKED FOR BUT CERTAINLY NEEDED; THE CREATION OF ERPB'
The creator of the article was an independent journalist who was under no major corporation and was therefore, not obligated to spread political propaganda like the rest of them. They posted an article every Wednesday, and this week's star feature was the ERPB.
Hwa-jin couldn't help but open the article. After all, it was incredibly rare to find someone who seemed even slightly in support of the ERPB, especially with constant protests happening right outside their building since they'd been established.
He read the entire article without shifting a single muscle, he even memorized certain sentences that had hit him far too close to home. Sentences that exposed the truth in such an honest, sincere way.
'The ERPB was not something any of us asked for, but that was because we weren't the victims. We weren't the ones suffering. We weren't the ones looking for justice. If you ask the people who have gone through pain, they would never argue against it.'
'Na Hwa-jin, regardless of whatever his intentions are, has always ensured the well-being of the victims he has protected. Whether he accompanied the minister on this mission due to a 'personal vendetta' or 'revenge for Gayun', it truly does not matter when he brings justice and good to the system.'
'If you believe it to be unjust, then congrats, you have lived a life of privilege where you have never felt discriminated. If you feel as though it is a problem then perhaps it is time to find a mirror and identify where the real problem lies.'
'Because the ERPB does not harm the innocent or target anyone specific. They protect victims, they protect the citizens, and they do it without expecting anything in return. Even if the sun is high today, it may rain tomorrow. Even if you are privileged today, you may suffer tomorrow.'
Hwa-jin bookmarked the article so he could come back to it whenever he felt down, whenever he needed the support of this random journalist who seemed so keen to protect them. He read their name at least ten times, even wrote it down in a paper, and memorized it for later. '____' become a name he would now look forward to every Wednesday.
Days passed, maybe weeks. The ERPB had become a common topic on ____'s articles now, specifically because it not only fetched their the most viewership but it was also immensely discussed and scorned across the nation.
____ never backed down from their opinions despite the criticism they would receive for defending such an organization that didn't have to follow the law and often used violence as a way to counter the perpetrators.
Hwa-jin tuned in on every single article on an alternate account where his identity wouldn't be revealed. He followed their page, and read even the articles that weren't related to him at all. It could be fashion, sports, politics, but he'd consume every written work the journalist made.
A few more days passed and Hwa-jin was no longer able to keep up with the articles as his missions piled up, helping the victims would always be his priority.
After a particularly harsh mission, Hwa-jin had decided to stay outside the building for a few moments. He'd beaten up over twenty wannabe high-school gangsters, he was exhausted. He leaned against the wall, the blood staining his skin as he shut his eyes and let out a deep breath.
When he opened them again, a handkerchief was extended out to him. It wasn't the arm of a student or someone he had just beat up, it was an outsider who'd walked in on the mess. He took it without any resistance, the blood starting to become a sticky nuisance on his skin.
"You must be Hwa-jin, I'm...assuming you're not fit for an interview right now."
The person before him stated, glancing him over. Hwa-jin finally looked up at them and paused as he noticed the pen and notebook in their other hand. Ah, it was another journalist.
"Clearly."
He replied without much care, expecting this to be another interviewer attempting to get dirt on him under the guise of trying to help. He returned the blood-stained handkerchief to you once he was done, the stickiness still there but considerably less.
"That's fair. Must've been a rough mission."
You laughed awkwardly, pocketing the handkerchief as you averted your gaze from his intimidating one.
"Thank you, but I don't think you should be here."
"Oh, I know. I'm not here with any outlet. I'm actually an independent journalist called ____ and I came here to destroy any assumptions about the ER–"
"____?"
Hwa-jin paused as his gaze became even more focused. He'd memorized the name a million times, he'd read each article, and now he stood before the very person he'd only ever seen the name of. He could finally put a face to the name, and it was certainly an attractive one.
"Do you know me?"
You asked cautiously as you noticed the recognition on his face the second you had mentioned your name, the way he stopped leaning on the wall and straightened himself out.
"I've read your articles, yes, especially the ERPB ones. You have a good way with words."
"Ah, thank you. I like to write whatever I believe in, even if some might disagree."
A pause consumed the space between you two, an awkward yet strangely comfortable silence as you both stood there across each other. The quiet was only interrupted when he spoke again.
"I'd like to give the interview now."
----
'AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH NA HWA-JIN; THE MAN BEHIND THE ERPB'
- BY _____
Today's exclusive feature includes an interview with Na Hwa-jin, the man of the hour, as he finally addresses the purpose of the ERPB and the criticisms against it!
Q ] Who is the ERPB trying to protect? Are they against the students?
A ] The ERPB's sole purpose is to protect victims. We are not against anyone in particular. If the perpetrator is a student then they will be held accountable, same goes for everybody else. We do not look at who they are when we make them face the consequences of their own actions. We are simply for the victims, against the attackers.
Q ] Do you think it is fair that the ERPB is exempted from the law and permitted to use violence, or any other forceful measures, to carry across their point?
A ] I understand why people find it to be unfair but I disagree with them, personally. The ERPB is exempted from the law to ensure that the perpetrator faces the true extent of their action's consequences. In a world where such injustice are passed by and violence against individuals is simply another statistic, we aim to reduce it through any mean possible. Trust the ERPB, we refrain from using violence unless absolutely necessary.
Q ] What is your true intent behind the start of ERPB? Is it a personal vendetta, as people say?
A ] No. That's all I'll comment on this. The ERPB's purpose is to bring justice to victims and protect them, my intention does not matter. However, I do not appreciate the comments made regarding my late fiancee. Please refrain from assumptions.
Q ] Do you think the ERPB will be able to put an end to violence against individuals?
A ] No. The ERPB will send out a message to them but it's not like we can individually save everyone, especially in a country where this has become the norm. However, I believe if people listened to the ERPB's messages and tried to make a difference instead of criticizing us for attempting to help, then things could be better.
----
The article blew up immediately and was shared across multiple different networks, even reaching global outlets who covered on the situation. There were still critics, but now there were people who had a profound sense of respect for them as well. People who understood and found themselves agreeing with the ERPB's mandatory existence.
You were invited to their building, greeted by a grinning education minister and the other two whom you had only heard of occasionally. Geundae and Han-rim.
You shook their hands before being led inside by them, taking the elevator upstairs to their office. There he was, standing by the window in a black shirt with his collar unbuttoned. Leaned back, veins dragging across his arms, waiting for you to enter.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you took the first step in and saw him, blocking out the sunlight slipping past him and standing there so gloriously. You took a seat only after the minister sat down first, everyone else following after.
"I wanted to express our sincerest gratitude to you. The disagreements and arguments have comparatively died down," He started, his voice kind yet professional as he spoke, fingers interlocked as they rested on the table.
"I only said the obvious, people just hadn't been paying close enough attention earlier. On top of that, you should be thanking Hwa-jin for agreeing to the interview," You responded sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.
Hwa-jin looked up at the mention of his name and smiled up at you slightly before looking away. A familiar warmth spreading within him, one he hadn't felt since Gayun passed away. He removed the thought from his head.
No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. His heart only belonged to Gayun and falling in love with someone else would be a betrayal to her. He'd already betrayed her once by not protecting her, he couldn't do it again.
"...what do you think, Hwa-jin?"
His thoughts were interrupted when the man beside him spoke, not having paid attention to a word said before this. He simply nodded and responded with a default answer,
"Sure, yeah. That could work."
"Great! Then from tomorrow onwards, ____ is going to be a journalist for the ERPB. Don't worry, you'll still be able to write anything you want, we just need a good source to spread awareness on these matters."
Hwa-jin hadn't known what he'd agreed to until he realized he'd permitted ____ to join their team. ____, the one person he had just realized he might be catching feelings for.
He was completely screwed.
----
A few weeks had passed but Hwa-jin's feelings certainly hadn't. Instead, they'd grown more intense. Far worse than earlier despite how little you two actually communicated.
Your presence in his vicinity ruined him.
It was the small things that crushed him whole. The accidental brush of your shoulders when the hallway was too narrow and you were both walking in opposite directions, the way you'd memorized his coffee order and always brought drinks for everyone each morning just because you wanted to, the breeze which would faintly shift the strands of your hair and place an annoying strand right in front of your gorgeous face.
He was a wreck and it all started from that single article. The article which he still had bookmarked.
But he couldn't forget Gayun, even being near ____ felt like a betrayal to his wife whom he'd failed. She'd be upset. He'd already thought of all the things she might say if she saw him like this.
'How could you do this to me? You promised to protect me and you didn't, and now you can't even stay loyal to me? Did you ever even love me?'
He sighed as the words clouded his mind but he couldn't remain in his thoughts for long when his phone suddenly buzzed with a text from the team's group chat.
JOURNALIST ____: hellooooo does anyone need me to bring in coffee for the evening too?
DEPUTY DIRECTOR BONG: Evening? Why?
JOURNALIST ____: didn't you get the info?? we'll have to stay extra todayyy, super big mission lol
DEPUTY DIRECTOR BONG: Not again...
Hwa-jin placed his phone back in his pocket with a smile he didn't even know was on his face. The smile quickly left when he realized what the texts meant. Overtime.
Overtime with her.
Geundae and Han-rim were already their own duo, they'd go off elsewhere, and Hwa-jin was bound to be left alone with ____. It sounded like a blissful nightmare, except it was actually happening.
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I am begging you to make any sort of bong geundae fanfic (preferably nsfw 👀 BUT I DONT CARE IN ALL HONESTLY. THERES LIKE NO CONTENT ON HIM AND HES MY FAVORITE 😭)
THE SILENCE IS OURS
BONG GEUNDAE X READER
a/n: im very very sorry but i dont write nsfw (at least not at the moment) so i couldn't completely meet your request and im also v sorry that the post came out so late due to my sickness and tests ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i hope you like it tho!!
-> '____' is to be inserted with reader!!
<>
Geundae and you were the only two normal people in the entirety of ERPB, which obviously led to the two of you growing closer with each other compared to the rest.
Hwa-jin was insane and kind of stupid, no offense, but he had a good heart. Han-rim was loud and even more insane, but passionate about things she cared for. The minister was only there for approval of cases and supervision but if you had to be honest, he had a bit of crazy in him too.
Out of all these people, you grew close to the Deputy Director who seemed to be the only normal one there. Being a new intern, you seeked company in the one most like you.
"I heard they opened up a new cafe today."
"Mm."
He hummed in response to you, fingers still typing away on his keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. You snacked away on those chocolate sticks you'd always cary around, interrupting the silence with a rare comment.
It was a comfortable silence. He was working but listening attentively, you could tell by the way he tilted his head slightly whenever you spoke as a response. For the most part, you let the cozy quiet sit between you two.
"Apparently it's not that good."
You added on after nearly fifteen seconds passed, munching on yet another stick of chocolate.
"Ah, really? Then we shouldn't go there then."
Geundae responded while his soft eyes were still glued to the monitor, his words catching you off guard. Why was he suggesting you two would go there together in the first place? Your face flushed at the simple comment but you brushed it off as a careless one.
The silence set in again, this time longer and slightly more tense.
"Deputy Bong, Intern ____. Get your stuff, we're going on a mission."
You two didn't hesitate the second Hwa-jin spoke. You closed the lid of your container and placed it inside your bag while he did the same with his tech devices.
An hour later, you arrived at a school that seemed abandoned. Weirdly enough, Han-rim hadn't accompanied the two of you and you hadn't exactly seen a notice of approval from the minister either. You ignored the oddities, maybe it was just in the rush of the moment and they didn't have the time to go through the right procedures.
You two stepped forward with Hwa-jin following close behind. Your steps echoed through the empty building, until all three of you stopped at once.
In the room to your left, there was a figure dressed in a black cloak that covered them entirely. You glanced at Geundae to make sure he was seeing what you were seeing, before you took a tentative step forward.
"Let me go first."
His hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back, his voice timid despite his brave front. You nodded as he stepped forward carefully, his eyes glancing at every corner as he did. You stepped close behind him for protection, not yours but his. You were well aware that despite his courageous act, he had barely any skills when it came to fighting.
The moment you two stepped inside, the door behind you shut with a loud slam. You turned abruptly and began banging on the door, Geundae following your lead and doing the same beside you.
"I'll let you two out soon, don't worry, but only once you confess whatever you two feel for each other. I'm sick of watching the two of you."
Confusion, embarrassment, and even a bit of fear overtook your entire being. Beside you, Geundae sighed as if he'd expected Hwa-jin to pull something like this.
"This is why I wanted to quit."
He mumbled under his breath, getting a small smile out of you. The tips of your ears were turning red as you blushed, but you pulled down the strands of your hair just enough to cover them.
You did like Geundae, more than you should've. You were an intern that certainly didn't know your place considering you'd fallen for the Deputy Director of ERPB.
But as you heard Hwa-jin's words, you let yourself believe for a second that he might've felt something back.
"I'm sure he'll get bored soon enough and open the door."
You stated as you slid down against the nearest wall and extended out your legs, taking a seat since you knew this would be a while. Meanwhile, Geundae finally mustered up the courage to approach the black cloaked figure and pull off its hood.
A mannequin, of course. How classic of him.
"I doubt he will."
Geundae took a seat beside you, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees. Your shoulders were touching, the small piece of contact making your pulse race. You wondered if he felt it too.
"Not unless we talk about...it."
Of course he did. The tension between the two of you since you'd joined last year hadn't gone unnoticed, even Hwa-jin of all people had caught a sniff of whatever this was.
"About what?"
You played dumb, your voice growing into that familiar quiet you two had always shared. His voice was low, dripping with warmth and love.
"I like you, ____. Everyone knows it, I'm sure you did too. You're not just a final resort to me because everyone else is loud, I feel more peaceful when you're there. Whether you talk or not, I still feel happy just by being at your side."
Okay, so you had no idea any of this was going on. You had just found out in the span of ten minutes that everyone knew he was in love with you and that you felt the same back, aside from the two of you yourselves, that this entire scheme was a plan to make him confess, and that he had no idea just how clueless you had been until now.
"I...didn't know."
Was all you could say, watching as his softened features tensed up slightly at your hesitant tone. He was expecting a rejection, he was expecting anything except for your reciprocation.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm just surprised. I really had no idea but I– I do like you too. I feel the same. It's all just a bit too sudden."
You admitted honestly as you shyly diverted your gaze to your shoes, feeling his eyes still glued to the side of your head.
"You like me too?"
"Yes."
You didn't hesitate this time, the word a silent admission of the feelings you had been harbouring this entire time. The simple word holding the weight of an entire year.
"Then let's not be sudden. Let's take it at our pace, as slow as we can, as slow as you want."
His words came out too quick, as if he was worried he'd lose you if he didn't say them any faster. He leaned forward, eyes wider and too aware of every feature on your face. His hand slowly, shaking, reached out to yours and covered it entirely, thumb caressing the back of your hand as it rested on your thigh.
"There's absolutely no rush."
He added carefully after a second's pause, a small smile on his face. He didn't ask for anything, he didn't expect anything either. He simply looked satisfied with everything that had just been declared. You smiled back in response, giving him a nod.
"I'd like that."
You whispered for only the two of you to hear. The sentimental moment was cut short when the door suddenly opened again with a bang. He retracted his hand, you distanced the proximity between you two.
Hwa-jin was back. No, he hadn't heard a word being said inside because the metal door was too thick for any sound to leave. He'd gotten bored, like you'd expected, and given up.
"I'm really hoping you two are done here."
He took a glance at the distance between you two where you sat, the way you suddenly got up when he arrived, the way Geundae followed right after and stood beside you.
He didn't say a word as he turned around, and neither did the two of you. He had likely noticed the pink on Geundae's face as he shifted near you, trying to get closer but shying away, while you refused to meet anyone's eyes in complete embarrassment and fluster.
Hwa-jin walked out first. Geundae finally built up the courage to stand beside you, a deep breath leaving his lips as he glanced at you. His hand reached out and took yours.
You turned your head to gaze back at him, offering him a smile but no words. You didn't have to speak for him to understand you. You didn't have to do anything.
The two of you left the room hand-in-hand, realizing that maybe some good had managed to come out of Hwa-jin being insane like always. The silence was warm, and the quiet now felt like a home you could finally return to.
super sick and have to write 4 more mock tests gng 😔💔 will return to all the teach you a lesson requests soon, ive alr started writing some of them but im too sick to finish them
pls be patient with me 💔 some of them will be out within either this week or next week <3
Hiii how are youuu hope you’re doing well! I loveee how you wrote sanji the the obsessive!sanji fic. IT FITS HIM. I would love to see moreee please(๑>◡<๑)
obsessive! sanji headcannons
[x reader (obv)]
a/n: first time trying hcs, idk if this is how it works. anywhooo, i hope you like it!! this might be a bit lazy which im very sorry for but im still trying out this new genre while also actively losing my motivation in writing abt one piece for now 😭 also yes!! im doing well these days aside from being super stressed with projects haha, im glad you liked the fics :)
tw: toxic, mentions of stalking, sh (to some extent)
ps: i have seen all of yalls teach me a lesson requests, they are currently in progress <3
Sanji has always been in love with his girlfriend. Yes, he may have once felt an attraction to other women prior to you but since the day he met you, he became a faithful man.
He was a desperate man knelt at your altar, a needy devotee begging for a mere morsel of your attention.
It had started to become concerning to those who witnessed his affection. It was lovey-dovey at first and they'd noticed his clinginess earlier but they left it up to it being "the honeymoon phase" of your relationship, however, they were also quick to notice that this phase seemed to never end.
He would grow agitated whenever you weren't around, unable to follow the recipes he could usually create with his eyes blindfolded. He could hardly breathe, let alone have his hands function properly.
The only thing he never failed in making was your favorite meal.
It was a cultural dish. He hadn't ever heard of it before until you mentioned it in a passing conversation. Since then, Sanji had lost his mind trying to recreate it to perfection.
When he finally did, he saw the delight on your face. He felt like his sleepless nights had actually amounted to something.
Sanji, who after an argument, would bang his head into the wall of his room multiple times. He'd curse himself out, make self-deprecating comments, cry to himself, before finally composing himself enough to apologize first regardless of whether it was his fault or not.
His life had no purpose if you were angry at him. Everything he'd lived for would amount to nothing.
He never let you talk to people for more than thirty minutes. He said they were trying to steal you from him, trying to be more likeable than him.
Sanji, who most definitely has a secret shrine of pictures he took of you, with and without your knowledge. Pictures of you from every angle, every dress you'd ever worn, every jewellery you wore, every meal you'd ate, everything you owned. He had a place completely hidden away beneath the wooden planks of the ship where he stored his deepest desires in a journal, the cover of it being a photo of you with sketched hearts surrounding your face.
Sanji, who expected you to listen to his every whim, and would secretly 'punish' you if you didn't. He'd once told you to cut off Luffy entirely and stop talking to him but you'd refused, obviously, because he was not only your captain but a close friend as well.
The next day, your favorite watch was somehow broken in half. He pretended to not know anything, until he saw how upset you seemed. He couldn't bear to see his precious angel cry because of him.
So he got you a new one. He never told you that he'd broken the old one, but he played the part of the saint who had so graciously paid to replace the watch. You thanked him and he managed to convince you to stop talking to Luffy in exchange for it.
You never knew he'd been the one to break everything you loved solely for the purpose of making you listen to him, you only knew how kind he was to replace them all.
Sanji cannot live without you. He cannot even fathom a universe where the two of you are not side-by-side, bound to get married whether you wanted to or not.
Because if there did exist a universe where the two of you never existed within each other's presence, he would still hunt you down. He would still find you and love you, and he'd make sure you loved him too.
SUMMARY: Shin Ji-young is on the run. There has been a case of murder in South Fork School, and another case of murder of a teacher brought flashbacks to Hwa-jin. Similar signs were there; the student was shifty, often seen around older pupils from other colleges or even dropping out, trading drugs, and the teacher only confessed to her to not continue doing so. The result? 4 stab marks in his abdomen area, face scratched- a little too brutally as if they were claw marks of a wild animal. And now, Ji-young is nowhere to be found; the police and media are looking for her, even ERPB, especially Na-Hwajin.
(all the names, including school name is made up)
"보셨나요? Huh?" (Did you see?) Han-rim said pointing towards the TV, nudging Bong Geun-dae to show the news.
"Shin Ji-young, a 17-year-old high school girl from South Fork School of Busanjin district, has fled from the scene after committing the murder of her homeroom teacher the previous night. The police are on their search and will catch the murderer soon. Though a minor, she will be served as per her deed. And the reason is yet to be known."
"What kind of a student does that?" Shouted Han-rim, pressed her lips tightly as if she was about to throw curse words at the girl. Both the Minister and Hwa-jin exchanged looks, a knowing glance at what actions should be taken for this case. However, without a formal complaint being filed by that school or anyone related to her, they won't be able to take any action..yet.
This news spread like wildfire, as the teacher who was murdered was allegedly related to a congressman of the opposing party. They questioned Minister Choi as to why the investigation hasn't been started. It irked the poor minister and he refused to answer the media as of now. A few times passed until they received this mail, a very comprehensive one. Bong Geun-dae had informed them. It read-
[ Hello sir,
I am writing this mail in concern of my missing friend. Ji-young, has been missing for few days now. Usually, after such incidents with any of our teacher, she doesnt attend school for a day to 2 days maximum but it's been a long time and I even visited her house. She wasn't there either. I don't know exactly what had happened between these two that led to such gruesome act, I just happen to miss my friend. I hope you will find her. That's why I reached out to you.
-Kang Ha-eun ]
"Looks like she has a close friend, and we could get a lot of information about Ji-young from her," Hwa-jin commented. All of them nodded in agreement. Walking up to Han-rim, he patted her shoulder sharply and said, "So, let's begin".
The next day, they packed everything and headed for South Fork School. It was just another busy day at school, with students and teachers bustling around the school in the hallway. Han-rim observed them; nothing looked suspicious among the students, no such life-threatening bullies among them. Hwa-jin spoke to the headmaster about the incident and asked him for the security camera in that area. Weirdly, the head of the school looked a bit uncomfortable sharing the video, but he still shared it with him. "Uh, Sir, don't you have the raw footage?"
"No, sir, unfortunately, it was tampered with the next day. After the footage was saved, someone mishandled the actual footage."
"Sabotaging the crime scene? Looks like someone tried to hide something." He reasoned. For a moment, Hwa-jin thought he saw a flicker of guilt hiding behind the headmaster's eyes. Then he quickly said, " Inspector Na, it's obvious that the insolent girl did this." Hwa-jin didn't say much and simply nodded, leaving his office. 'It's not just a case of murder' He thought out loud.
Meanwhile, the other two tracked down information about the girl and spoke to two or three of her teachers, one of whom was her homeroom teacher. Things didn't quite add up well, although there was one specific piece of information that struck with Han-rim was that she was a violent kid from a very young age, maybe because her father was abusive. Her mother had died, quite truthfully, she had seen her mother die. She was not necessarily violent towards her friend or surroundings, but more towards herself. She usually showed an aggressive, agitated nature while talking to her peers, but never quite harmed them. This was her first time doing so, but it mostly felt like a pent-up anger toward her mathematics teacher, Park Seo-Joon. Her homeroom teacher had mentioned all this information about her. Han-rim and Bong Geun-Dae took the file containing her report card, medical certificate, and other information to Hwa-jin. He was quietly loitering outside, in the hallway, looking at students studying and other activities being done by others.
"So, anything special?" The senior inspector questions. "Sir, this case looks a bit weird, as in, why would a girl of high grades suddenly start scoring less, and that too in the maths subject. One particular subject. The teachers gave us all the information yet, their expression said otherwise."
Hwa-jin stayed quiet; he didn't say anything until Bong Geun-Dae shrieked out. Both of them got scared and jumped up, "씨발 (fuck)- Han-rim exclaimed, "What's wrong with you?"
With trembling hands, he said, "Look, another murder, same type." All of them hovered over the phone to check the news; it was true. Just a few kilometres from here, at a pub, the murder occurred. The scratch marks, stab all the same. Hwa-jin straightened up and said, "Well, we don't have any time to waste. We need to catch her, or she might as well eat up a few more people."
All of them left for the club. They looked around for any clue, the CCTV footage to check her whereabouts, and the man she killed. They asked the owner if he knew the man. "Yes, he was a regular and was there just like another night. Our bartender did see him enter our private room, upstairs with a girl, but he thought it was his date. We didn't expect him to end up like this."
They questioned whether any worker saw him as a threat to that girl or was harassing her. One of the waiters there replied, "No, it looked quite the contrary; she was smiling and had her arms wrapped around his."
All three of them, dead tired, returned to the headquarters with little to no clue. She has again vanished and can't be traced. They even looked around her neighbour; no one had seen her.
At night, looking through her files, Han-rim suddenly stood up from her seat. "We might know where she would be, day after tomorrow?"
Hwa-jin yawned, already deprived of sleep, "How?"
"In her middle school diary, she has written that on 22nd June is her Dog's mango birthday. And every year, she brings him his favourite flower to his kennel. So, she will visit that."
"How can you be so sure? She knows everyone is looking for her." Bong-Geun Dae questioned. "Yes, you are correct, she might be cautious, but she will be there, even for a while. It's her pet, and people are really attached to their pet, and people like her who have no one to rely on, they consider their pet as their best friend. She wouldn't miss it for the world. She is still a child afterall."
"Are you sympathizing with a killer?" Hwa-jin chipped up, his tone a bit sharper than usual. Han-rim saw that stern look lingering in his eyes, despite being tired, she straightened up and said," NO, I just feel whatever she did, there was a reason. A reason that can be judged upon, properly."
"So, I kind of found something-" Bong Geun Dae spoke up, "so this Congressman Mr. Park Dong-Ho is Seo-joon's Uncle. He has a list of sexual assault cases charged. But he got bail every time. And coincidentally, the guy at the pub was his driver. There are paparazzi photos of him in the car with that guy in the driver's seat."
Han-rim and Hwa-jin exchanged a knowing look," Well, we will pay Mr. Park a visit tomorrow then."
Next Day
"this Motherfucker bitch, how did she escape again. What are you guys doing? 6 armed men and you can't find her?" Dong-Ho spat out, his pale face now red with anger as he cussed out the police officers in charge of duty. He dismissed them quickly, "Fuck, this bitch, shouldn't have let her out for that test. Should have kept her caged in the box, that bitch should have died like her mom." He angrily mumbled, sitting down in the chair in his office. Suddenly, the door opened, revealing the three officers in his office. Dong-Ho looked up and gave them a smug smile, "What brings you here, Officer Na, unless you caught that bi-, girl. I am not hearing from any of you. She murdered my nephew," Spoke the old man.
"We are trying to catch her, sir," Hwa-jin spoke, his voice dripping with extra sweetness and with sincerity. Sometimes, it made Han-rim wonder if he took acting classes besides military training to help him mask his emotions so perfectly. Hwa-jin paused, then continued," In fact, we were wondering if you could assist us in catching her tomorrow. It will be a great, satisfactory job; it may help you gain some publicity."
Congressman, being the dumb guy he was, quickly agreed to it, without thinking of the consequences. He agreed, and it made all three of them grin in satisfaction. Yesterday, the entire night, they looked for the names of the victims who charged him with sexual assault. Sadly, most of them were either missing or killed themselves. Only two of them were alive and decided to pay a visit, later today.
The final day - Justice is served?
Ji-young's pov
It is raining heavily today, and it is Mango's birthday too. My mango turned 15 today, but I am too scared to pay him a visit. What if the police are there? Or those guys? Did they destroy my Mango's house, too? I'd kill them if they touched it. I opened my phone, which is my other phone, so that they wouldn't track it. I saw the area around my house; it looked empty, no police around. No one is around, Mango's kennel is the same and a little bit dusty. Maybe I can pay him a quick visit. The sharp drop of rain on my skin hurt my cut marks; it still looked so sore and bad. I used to be so pretty, but they ruined me. My face, my body. These meds help me reduce the pain, but it makes me so angry, too.
I shouldn't be too late, or someone might just catch me. I grabbed the Jasmine flowers from the nearby lake, and carefully walked towards my house, it was a quiet neighbourhood, and mostly during early mornings, it's empty and quiet, so I can access my place early. I saw his kennel and sat down quietly, "Hi, Mango, Happy Birthday, Baby. I miss you so much. You were the best thing in this whole world, well, you still are. I am sorry I can't be here for a long time. I am on a run, but when I find a place to stay, I will take you with me."
I am usually quite strong, but I caught myself crying today, right now. It didn't matter; I was alone, so I could cry. "I hoped for a better world and a better life than what my parents lived. But it's just worse than them, I wish I could approach the ERPB regarding this-
"Who said you couldn't?"
-
Third Person POV
"Are you sure, Han-rim, she will be there right now?" Hwa-jin commented as he drove the SUV with Bong Geun Dae and Mr. Park in the back seat. "Yes, it's early morning, and it would be quiet in the neighbourhood so she can access her place right now. Although midnight could have been a more decent choice, it wouldn't be her dog's birthday when midnight strikes."
"you're so smart..." Bong Geun-Dae commented, which led to Hwa-Jin rolling his eyes. He sped up the car and parked at a distance from the neighbour. Hwa-jin got out and asked them to stay back, "You, sure you will be alright?" Han-rim mocked.
He simply ignored and went towards her house. Rest three of them watched through the camera they had placed yesterday in her backyard. Hwa-jin quietly saw her, praying and talking to herself. He heard her say about ERPB and couldn't help but speak up.
This alerted Ji-young, she sprinted up and took out the blades from her pocket. Hwa-jin wouldn't admit it loudly, but her self defence tactic, impressed him a bit. He now could see her properly, her face looked nothing like the passport size photo the school had of her. One of her eyes looked damaged, her lips cut, one of the cheek slashed, marks all over her hand and parts of her neck. She looked so bruised. Before saying anything, he started to walk towards her. "Don't- I will kill you." She warned, with her cracked voice and, her hands trembling.
"Look, she is trying to hurt Hwa-jin," Exclaimed the old man from the car as he sipped his juice casually. "He knows what he is doing," Commented Han-rim with a stern and disgusted voice.
Hwa-jin raised his hands in surrender, "I am only here to talk and know about your situation. You said you wanted help. We are here to help. We want to hear your side of the story, too." She lowered her blades a bit, still holding them firmly. Can she trust him? she thought. She knew him. She followed him for months and saw videos of him on Zeetube and learned a few moves during a fight from that. She knew what he did with other kids was for their betterment, but this time, is he really going to? When the entire city is against her.
Watching her doubtful face, he said, " You can't run; the area is surrounded by ERPB. You will only end up hurting yourself, so you should come with us, and we can talk." This time, she lowered her blades and followed him outside the house. All three of them got out of the car, too. Looking at Ji-young, Dong-ho shouted, "Catch that bitch, you insolent girl-" Han-rim slapped him to be quiet.
The moment Ji-young heard his voice, she let out a shriek, "YOU CALLED HIM?!- She shouted at Hwa-jin, "HOW DARE YOU?! YOU SAID WE WILL TALK. BUT YOU ARE SENDING ME BACK TO HIM! HOW DARE YOU, FUCK!!! She shouted so loudly that at 6am most of the neighbours would have now woken up by the noise. Ji-young, out of nowhere, leaped towards Hwa-jin to hit him. Quickly, Han-rim ran and held Ji-young tightly. Ji-young quickly kicked her thigh from the front and stood afar. It angered Han-rim; she leaped forward to throw a punch at Ji-young, but she dodged it.
Amidst that, the congressman walked hurriedly towards ji young and tried to hold her by her wrist. But failed, as Hwa-jin held his arm so tightly that it might just twist his muscle, "Don't Touch." He warned, staring dead into his eyes. Meanwhile, Ji-young searched for her weapons. She caught hold of the dagger and leaped forward at Dong-ho, but Han-rim caught her. "Don't, not now."
Helplessly, Ji-young fell to the ground, now fully sobbing in front of them. She held onto Han-rim's pants tightly and whispered, "Help me, please," as she gasped for air. Han-rim kneeled down and held her sides, her eyes teary too as she said, "We are going to help you, you just have to come with us and talk. We won't send you away anywhere."
They drove in silence and took her to a hospital. Outside the hospital, there was a swarm of people from media. While she was getting treated, they took statements from her. They searched her house for any clue but didn't find any as all of it was in her 2nd phone. Going through her phones, they saw, recording of her saying how they worked together (the teacher, congressman, and the driver.) . Apparently, they had sent other people from Congressman's group to different school to kidnap girls from middle school, highschool and even universities students. They had coaxed the girls into thinking they would get a job as a model or air hostess if they did some simple task, since Park Dong-Ho owned a few percentage of shares of the Airline.
All were lie, they kidnapped them and made them an escort for other rich people from various countries to get paid a significant amount.
"I only became a target because my mother had some issues with them for a very long time. She used to work for Dong-Ho, and when I was 5, he wanted me to be sold to him, and in return, my parents would get a certain sum of money. But my mom refused, so in return, my dad used to beat her every day, and even one day Dong-Ho's men broke into our house and raped her and took photos to threaten her." Ji-young took a deep breath and continued. "Unable to take such a huge load on herself, she hung herself." She stated that the room went quiet, and Han-rim quietly patted her back.
" I was sent to my grandparents' place for years, until I had to come back for my high school. Everything was fine until they showed up again."
"Ji-young." Hwa-jin called out, "You are very brave."
She smiled, after months, she gave out a genuine smile. "Thank you sir."
"and quite strong too," he said while touching his nose, where it looked a bit bruised from that day when she threw him a punch. She gave out a sheepish smile.
-
Weeks went by, and all the subordinates working under Park Dong-ho were arrested, including the old man himself. His house was under search, including the Clubs he owned. Many hidden rooms were found in the clubs and his house, including photos that were too dark to be released to the media. As for Ji-young, she was in a juvenile reformatory facility, and she would be treated by a psychologist to help her. She looked better in the facility as she was put under a rehabilitation centre to help her control her mind and be physically well, too. All of them visited her once a week, and it encouraged her to be better and live better.
"Inspector, thank you." Hwa-jin looked up from the seat they were both sitting. "For what?" "For hearing me out, and not letting me die."
Hwa-jin simply nodded, giving her a warm smile.
-
[a/n : I love this series so much. I used to read this manhwa, years ago, before it discontinued, and when they made a series out of it, I was over the moon. So I had to write one fic. I will continue writing on this and on different characters, but it might take time to post because of demanding schedule:') I hope you like it. I have written a fic after years. So I kinda got out of practice, hah.]
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-> reader reunited with her first and last love, leading to an unconventional confession with an even more inconveniencing aftermath.
a/n: this song is literally being replayed on my playlist a million times a day like i will NEVER move on, and i also saw an edit of Gayun and Hwa-Jin to this song like oml, just bury me atp im sobbing. there is no sufjan stevens song that will not have me breaking down on my knees.
.☆°☆•
You were in love with Na Hwa-Jin.
For the longest time, you had been. Since high school, in college, and even after graduation.
Blind dates didn't help when you subconsciously compared every guy to him. When the only person you imagined sitting across the table was him.
'He would've known my favorite order.'
'He wouldn't have taken a seat before I did.'
'Hwa-Jin would never wear an outfit as tacky as that.'
'He would've drove me back home, or at least paid for my ride back.'
You guys had naturally drifted apart after graduation yet he still occupied your thoughts. You remembered parts of his face but couldn't put the whole together, and you still kept him as the standard for the guy you desired.
It'd been nearly a decade since you last had a conversation with him, one that actually had flavour and wasn't some customary greeting, one that felt like two friends communicating instead of a formal interaction.
It wasn't until his face showed up in the news that you finally memorized it again. The picture they used was terrible, smoothened out to hide his little imperfections you'd grown to love, but it was still him.
It was still your Hwa-Jin, and you completely ignored the headline underneath shouting about another ERPB scandal after he taught some high-schoolers the lessons they should've learnt a long time ago.
The TV blared in your face as you stared back into his, the dishes forgotten in the sink, the world freezing around you.
Your world had shifted to the TV screen.
You didn't move until his face was taken out of the screen to instead be replaced by the Education Minister giving a speech, addressing the situation and the purpose of the ERPB.
You suddenly noticed the soapy water dripping from your hands and staining the carpet below, a troublesome reminder of the dishes you had left in the middle of washing.
Later that day, you went out to get groceries. The sun was shaded by gloomy clouds as you navigated yourself through the crowded streets and traffic. You waited on the pathway to cross the road, however, people began to rush and push past you once the light turned red.
You struggled in the crowd, nearly tripping and risking getting trampled as you tried to move ahead alongside them. You felt your foot get stepped on by someone else, causing you to trip forward.
You were caught by a warm and fairly larger hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you up and guiding you as if it belonged there.
It felt comfortable. Familiar, for some reason.
You couldn't see your saviour's face through the crowd, you couldn't even move your head, so you let yourself be pulled forward like a ragdoll. The man was careful though, gentle yet firm with his grip to avoid losing you to the ocean of people you were surrounded by.
You two didn't stop walking forward until you arrived at the end of the crosswalk where he let go of your hand. You looked up to thank me, only for your heart to turn into complete mush.
Na Hwa-Jin. Your first and only love.
He stood before you with far more poise than he previously had, far more sophisticated with his entirely black outfit. But his eyes remained the same, the lines on his face had deepened to become more prominent, and his hair was slightly longer.
And when he smiled, it reached his eyes.
"____?"
His voice, one you hadn't heard in years, recalled your name lowly.
"Hwa-Jin. I didn't know you were here."
"I'm here for work."
He replied, his grin never once leaving as he kept his gaze on you.
"You look pretty, just like the last time I saw you."
He mentioned so casually, as if it was merely another comment that should've been taken with a thanks and brushed past. Your heart paused for a moment as you stared up at him blankly, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"So do you."
You complimented instinctively, your breath still hitched in your throat. Your voice was quiet, a whisper into the wind that only breezed past him.
"I'm not sure the word 'pretty' applies to someone of my appearance."
He pointed a finger to his own face before letting out a laugh. Did he even know that his mere existence in your presence affected you so deeply? That this was the most you'd felt since the last time you saw him? That the only time you'd felt such love, and the only time you could bring yourself to, was in his proximity.
"Unfortunately, I have to get back to work. I hope we can catch up again soon, ____."
Your eyes memorized his face one last time before he left, running across each crevice and unique feature of his.
And when he left, you stood there. You stared at the area where he'd once been. How he'd called you pretty. How he'd recognized you by a simple glance despite years having passed since the two of you last met.
How he'd held your hand and guided you through the crowd like the gentleman he'd always been, how his fingers had so precisely encircled around your wrist as he shielded you from the crowd's onslaught.
You drank three bottles that night. Each sip only intensifying the feeling within you instead of diminishing it. You doubted he'd ever felt the same. He'd always spoken to you casually, like yet another conversation to have before he leaves, instead of someone he feels anything for.
His voice earlier had been low, kind as he recognized you and reminisced the years you'd once spent together, but there was nothing more there than simple nostalgia.
But his eyes had softened when they stared down at you. His pupils dilated, and the creases around them gentled down as his eyes met yours.
Your phone was right beside you. Your mind was a mess. You were completely inebriated for a guy you'd barely seen after graduating. His number was still in your phone and had been since high school.
What did you have to lose anyways?
'Hwa-Jin.'
'Have you been well?'
'I haven't been well at all. It's all your fault. Do you even think of me these days? I'm drinking yet again because I miss you.'
'Because I love you.'
Your consciousness slipped moments after that, leaving you to deal with your grave error the next day.
You woke up with no memory of the previous day aside from the single message which lit up your phone. A text from Hwa-Jin, a horrifying reminder which forced you to scroll through each text you'd sent before you blacked out in the middle of your apartment.
'Call me whenever you're free.'
As much as you wanted to avoid this inevitable conversation, a part of you felt the warmth of a disarming hope building within.
You washed your face and drank soup to sober up, inhaling a deep breath before lifting the phone in your hand. You dialed his number, now completely sober to deal with your drunk self's mistake.
"Hwa-Jin."
Your voice was short, controlled, aware that it would break if you heard his voice. Aware that you'd shatter at his rejection.
You hurried out a follow-up to explain your messages before he could get a word in.
"I was drunk last night, I don't know what I was thinking. It'd just been a long time since we met and I missed you so I texted you, it didn't mean anything at all. I was just–"
"____."
His stable voice came through the other side of the phone and cut your rambling off abruptly, stealing your attention.
"Did it really not mean anything?"
He asked quietly, his voice laced with something that resembled disappointment. You didn't want to lie, you were already too far in anyways, so you admitted the truth after a small pause.
"It meant everything, Hwa-Jin. I've loved you for so bloody long, and the only thing the alcohol did last night was make me brave enough to risk it all. I'm sorry, I know you don't like me back but I can't help myself. I'll leave you alone if you want."
"____."
He sighed out your name again, the exhale sounding almost like a soft laugh as he waited for you to actually conclude your rambling this time before speaking. Before saying the words that took the breath out of your lungs. Words you'd been yearning to hear for over a decade in his low, deep voice.
"I do," He started before pausing for a second, as if considering whether he should let the next few words escape his heart through his mouth. Words that would seal your entire future and change your routines forever.
a/n: i wasn't joking when i wrote in my bio that i write whatever i think of loll. this has also made me realize how terrible i am with titles. there's not nearly enough 'x reader' fics on this man and that is so not okay. i hope you guys like reading this!!
(ps: for the people who saw my last post before i deleted it, i am better now and will be returning to my irregular schedule of writing!!)
"____,"
The voice of the new ERPB inspector called out to you, catching you off-guard. The hallways were empty. Classes were over for the day, and you'd been on your way home after working later than usual. You quickly adjusted your glasses and turned around to face the intimidatingly taller man.
He'd been lurking around the school for the past two days, specifically in your classes. He'd witnessed how you'd explain everything so gently to the students while none of them cared enough to listen, how you gave teaching your all while they seemed preoccupied with their own devices.
He'd noticed how well you'd present yourself each day, with a bright smile that sparkled up your eyes despite the students' disrespect.
.☆°☆•
DAY 1:
"Ms. ____, isn't your skirt a bit too short today? Are you trying to impress someone?"
The student laughed as he pointed out something which was in no way related to the literature you were teaching, and also completely false considering the skirt reached your knees. Hwa-Jin observed the interaction from the corner, arms crossed and eyes glaring into the back of the students' head.
"Ah, no, that's not it. I wore it because it matched my top."
You'd smile and respond politely before bringing everyone back into whatever Robert Frost you were reciting. The inspector noticed the way they all went back to doing their own thing. He didn't interrupt this time.
He listened to your lesson while also keeping track of which student stood out most when it came to disrespecting you.
.☆°☆•
DAY 2:
"Ooh, you're wearing jewelry today. I knew it, you are trying to impress someone. Is it that inspector? You've been dressing up a lot since he came here."
The same student from the previous day spoke out again. Tae-Byun was his name, Hwa-Jin had made Geun-Dae do his research the previous night. Around the school, the girls referred to him as 'Byun-Tae' instead, which meant 'Pervert'.
It was clear you weren't the sole target to his comments when such a name circulated around the entire building amongst every teacher and every student.
You took in a deep breath and got ready to sweetly dismiss his comment again, only to be cut off.
"No, it's-"
"Does that really matter right now? Are you learning literature or fashion?"
Hwa-Jin interrupted you abruptly, his eyes landing on the student who had the audacity to disrespect you a second time in his presence. He'd let the first one slide, but he was starting to get agitated too.
He couldn't explain why he felt so much more frustrated than usual when it came to you. He'd dealt with disrespectful students a million times but something about the way he spoke to you made the inspector's blood boil.
"No way, I was totally right. You're defending your girl, aren't you?"
You stared at the tense interaction between the two, silent since you knew you should just let the ERPB do their job. But you didn't want any of the students to end up injured as a result, you'd heard multiple times of the consequences other rebellious people had faced.
"So what if I am?"
Hwa-jin responded casually as he stood up straight, away from the wall where he had been leaning, and approached the student seated down on his desk.
You couldn't help the way your heart raced at the fact that he didn't deny it. No, not just that, but he played into the comment. He didn't even seem affected by it, and you made sure to act like you weren't either.
To act like the student hadn't been right on the dot when he called you out for dressing up to impress a certain inspector.
The ring of the bell broke you out of your thoughts, and Hwa-jin finally backed away from the student. He leaned back against the wall, face tilting up to look at you as the students ran out before you could even dismiss them.
You knew you couldn't control them as they hurried away, the same way you couldn't control the racing of your heart when you were alone in the classroom with the inspector.
"I'm sorry about what he said. It was totally out of line, especially when he knows about your-"
"Don't worry, I didn't mind it. It's about time I moved on like that old man said anyways."
He sighed before leaving the room as well. Your heart was beating even faster than before. He didn't mind people assuming you two were in a relationship? He was trying to move on from his dead fiance because of you?
You shook your head, trying to shake away the thoughts along with it. No, you were overthinking it. He'd started this entire project with his father-in-law as a result of the violence she'd endured that took her life. There was no way in hell a man of that sort would ever think of being with a doormat like you, let alone move on from the incident because of a teacher that was easily controlled by the students.
.☆°☆•
PRESENT TIME:
"Ah, sorry. We're not on first name basis yet."
"I don't mind!"
You replied a little too quickly, causing him to pause and stare down at you as you mentally beat yourself up over the enthusiasm.
"I mean, I think referring to each other in any other way would be too formal. We're not exactly strangers at this point, are we?"
Two days was all it took to have you over-explaining yourself like a fool to make sure he didn't get the wrong impression of you. Two days, and you were already acting like you guys were friends and he wasn't a stranger.
"We're not that close either."
He responded in that same tone he always used with every student and every teacher. You had never had more of an urge to bury yourself deep into the ground. You hoped the ground would open up and suck you within, that you could hibernate beneath the Earth's surface until the ERPB had finished their duty.
Of course, it'd only been two days. You were closer to strangers than anything else.
"You're right. Sorry, I got ahead of myself..."
You laughed awkwardly, giving him a smile so forced that it made the entire situation much worse. You let the horrifying moment of silence sit between you two before drifting your gaze back to his polished shoes.
"The next time a student speaks out like that to you, don't just stand there and take it."
His advice brought you back to reality as you turned your gaze back up to face him again, expecting him to point it out but not so randomly.
"It wasn't that big of a deal. All he said is that I'm dressing up to impress someone, I don't want to be too harsh on him over a comment."
And also because you knew the student had been completely right. You dressed up for Na Hwa-Jin the last two days. The damn inspector who was uncaring and solely here for the purpose of fulfilling his job.
"It's not one comment though, is it? And it's not only about you, think of all the other girls in this school having to deal with his comments. All the diligent students being disturbed because one couldn't shut his mouth up."
You were silent as you processed his words. He had a point. The reason he'd even earned the name of 'Byun-Tae' around campus was because he would repeatedly disturb every existing female around him. You took in a breath and acknowledged his words with a nod.
"If a teacher won't help her students, then who will? They all rely on you, ____, to be the responsible adult for them."
You let out the breath you were holding until you stopped breathing entirely. There it was, your first name again. You understood what he was saying, you processed the way he said it like he was teaching you a lesson you should've learnt from the beginning, and then you finally heard your name.
"I thought we weren't close enough for first names yet?"
"I changed my mind."
And then he walked off like he hadn't absolutely shattered your heart seconds ago by acting distant then stitched the pieces back up together by acting like that never happened.
That night, your heart decided to stop helping you. You followed the same procedure you always did whenever it decided to turn on you.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Close your eyes.
The first three steps failed entirely, so you skipped over to the last one instead of repeatedly trying again. If you closed your eyes, you wouldn't be able to see anything. Surely, you'd fall asleep naturally.
But when you did, all you could see was him dressed in all black. His perfectly done hair, those wrinkles that looked like they'd been sculpted with loving hands, and his eyes.
Oh, his eyes.
You let out a sigh as your eyes fluttered open again, realizing you were never escaping this mess you had gotten yourself into.
.☆°☆•
THE NEXT DAY:
You thought of the multiple ways you could discipline Tae-Byun today while teaching your class, noticing his absence but assuming it was a result of his habit of constantly being late. A scolding as the first warning, ruler to the hand as the second, standing in the corner of the class as the third, sent to the principal as the fou-
You could barely finish your thoughts when the door to the class was shoved open by the inspector, before he threw inside a disheveled Tae-Byun.
His pants were ripped upto his knees, exposing the rest of his legs. His collar was ripped open, exposing his collarbones. His shoes were barely on, exposing the dirty underside of his clearly unwashed socks. Aside from his appearance, bruises coated the side of his face as if he'd been slapped multiple times, the blood staining his lips matching the shade of lipstick on yours.
"He seemed really interested in your top, so I gave him a similar one. I hope you don't mind."
Hwa-Jin stated with a grin before quickly switching back to his serious look, dragging the student across the floor and to his desk.
Class resumed like normal with no interruptions, but you could feel the inspector's eyes staring at your back as you turned towards the board. It seemed you didn't even have to discipline him for now, not when he was there like some sort of bodyguard.
Once classes ended, Tae-Byun stumbled back home. He avoided his usual route to prevent coming across both you and the inspector. You stood outside your class, mumbling underneath your breath as you fiddled with the bracelet around your wrist, reciting what you'll say when you see him.
He'll be leaving today, now that his lesson had been taught. He'd made sure both you and your terrible student had each learned the value of existing in a school, and the difference in responsibility which was present between a teacher and a student.
"'Thank you, Mr. Inspecto-' Ah, that's way too much. 'I really appreciate what you did for me today, Hwa-Jin'. Geez, I don't think I should call him by his first name. We're not that close anyways."
You sighed again as you tossed your head back against the wall, the deep exhale now a part of your hourly routine whenever you thought of him. You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, and decided to say whatever came into your mind first.
"Na Hwa-Jin, I'm really glad you were there today. Thank you for the help, and for...teaching me to be a better teacher. I appreciate your advice, I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you for opening my eyes-"
"You could always make it up to me over dinner."
You didn't even want to open your eyes when you heard his voice. You felt like banging your head into the wall until you were out of this reality where he'd heard every single word you'd uttered. 'Opening my eyes', really? You couldn't think of anything better that sounded less like you were worshipping him?
But then you processed his words, and your eyes shot open. He wanted to go to dinner with you? He was asking you out on a date?
"I'm not asking you out."
He clarified as if he could read your mind through your wide eyes. The sudden flutter you'd felt in your stomach died down, only to be brought back as quickly and confusingly.
"I'm asking you to ask me out. Your treat."
What kind of guy even was he? One second, he could be a gentleman fighting off people that dared to disrespect you. Then you take another glance, and he's asking you to pay to take him out on a date and playing difficult with you by purposefully phrasing his sentences in that way.
Oh well, you couldn't care less in this moment. It was too good of an offer to pass up.
"Does barbeque work?"
You asked with a slight smile, removing your reading glasses now that classes were no longer in session. You placed them in your purse as you began walking, knowing well that he was matching your pace beside you.
You didn't know if this would turn into something more, you weren't a fortune teller to predict the future, but you didn't want to either. You wanted to live in this moment, where the two of you were leaving behind the empty school to enjoy barbecue together.
And maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be the last time you saw each other.
a/n: hello!! im currently trying out new styles to try and motivate myself to write again. i actually really liked writing this short lil drabble (although im not too sure how it turned out haha) and exploring a different genre than usual, i hope you like reading it too! :D
(ps: my requests are very open so pls feel free to suggest anything!!)
sanji has always adored cooking for you, for his one true love that had yet to know they were his.
more than luffy, more than nami, more than anyone on that damn ship; his hands worked overtime to curate the best dishes for you. sometimes luffy would sneak a bite of your food and complain about how it was better than his, so you'd share yours with him.
you never noticed how bitter sanji seemed whenever you did.
he loved to experiment with new recipes, various different ingredients laid out before him as he measured them delicately. he usually never needed to measure them, his mind was a measuring tool of its own, but he had to make it perfect for you.
you always gave him your honest opinions, you never sugarcoated how you felt regarding his meals. if they were good, you'd compliment him, and when they weren't exactly your taste, you'd merely sigh and praise him for trying regardless.
your frequent complaint was how sour his food had been recently, as if he'd run out of sugar.
his face turned red when you'd told him despite how politely you'd phrase it. it was unfair, not to him but to you. he couldn't believe he'd dared to serve his angel something so horrible, even though you'd finished the entire plate despite your one concern.
sanji didn't sleep that night. the lights in the kitchen were turned on as the cook tested alternatives to make your food taste sweeter.
hours went by and nothing seemed to work out.
that was until he accidentally cut the tip of his index finger while cutting up some mango, the crimson of his blood seeping into the vibrant yellow of the fruit.
hesitantly, sanji tasted the blood-dyed area. a spark went through his mind as he tasted his own ingredient, one that could only come through him.
this was it. this was the ingredient he had been missing all along, and the one that would win you over.
the next day, your salad tasted sweeter than usual. you'd noticed the red on the edges of the bowl but assumed it had simply been one of his ingredients that had lost its dye due to the moisture of the leaves.
sanji had never heard so many compliments leave your mouth before, each bite followed by an amazed praise.
weeks passed and your meals became duller in colour, turning a darker maroon shade each time while the rest of the crew got their regular dinners. whenever you'd question it, sanji would simply say it was one of his new secret ingredients he was trying out.
you never pushed further.
but maybe if you pulled back his sleeves, you would've noticed the scars littering them. maybe if you pulled down his collar, you'd see the heart he'd carved into his shoulder.
it was all for you, only for you. if you only looked a bit closer into the food, you'd notice how he'd shed his own blood for your sweet tooth.
if necessary, he'd throw his own heart on a platter if only you'd savour it. if only you'd tell him what a good job he did, how no other heart could ever compare, how each beat of his heart felt warm under your palm.
if only you'd slice into the delicate tissues and take a bite of him. if only he'd get to see his own blood drip down your chin as you devoured all that remained on the plate.
if only you'd look at him after, a lovely grin on your face as you licked his sweetness off your lips, and ask for another serving.
♡ -> Reader is a painter who has spent their whole life devoted to painting, living in Loguetown, but they can no longer find something or someone worth painting. That is until a certain peculiar pirate visits the butcher shop at the same time as them.
-ෆ°•.°ෆ-
a/n: idk how I feel about this because to be entirely honest, it took me nearly two months to find the motivation to finish this off. I feel like this fic is very self-serving considering I'm so demotivated these days and so occupied with other responsibilities that I no longer have time for writing!! anyways, i hope yall enjoy reading it and that i havent lost my spark for writing yet haha <3
-✷｡◕✿◍•ᴗ✯-
You wanted to be an artist.
You grew up surrounded by the arts. With your father being an author and your mother being a pianist, you were exposed to the various forms art could take from a young age. You saw how art existed in each and every person but differed in the way one expressed it.
You chose to express it on a canvas.
Your dream wasn't far-fetched or nearly impossible like ones you'd hear, yet you couldn't reach it. Not because you stopped loving it, not because you were being forced to pursue something else, but because you couldn't find yourself to think anymore when you held the paint in your hands.
Through the years, motivation had grown to become your worst enemy.
You'd wandered every street in Loguetown, scanned each face in the crowded streets, visited more markets than you could remember. You'd done everything you could to reignite the passion in you to no avail.
The world around you had grown dull. Loguetown had paled in colour since the last time you'd went out.
Your eyes that once used to observe the distinct features of individuals on the bustling streets now perceived them all as similar. You'd tried forcing yourself to paint but you found yourself hating each creation. It had no life, no soul, it didn't feel like you had painted it. You could no longer feel the thrill you once felt when you saw a blank page.
And what was the point of art if it wasn't portrayed by your heart?
It'd reached a point where you'd began questioning whether you even wanted to pursue art in the first place. A year had passed and you'd only made two paintings, both of which ended up in the trash due to your dislike of them.
You avoided leaving your apartment as much as you could, exposing yourself to the lifeless world outside felt worse than remaining inside your stuffy abode. You'd seen every sight in Loguetown but couldn't find yourself intrigued by any of them anymore.
However, when you ran out of all the meat in your fridge, you knew you had no other choice but to give the butcher's shop a visit. You had to suck it up and get out there into the real world, where your dreams no longer held any value and the entire town seemed faded away.
Your steps were stiff as you put on a coat and left, the breeze an inconvenience as you joined the overwhelming crowd. You'd only just stepped out yet you couldn't wait to go back to your tiny room in a building that looked moments away from collapsing, where you could be hopeless in peace.
The moment you arrived, you took a quick survey of your surroundings and considered going back the way you came. Starving seemed less inconvenient than having to stand between all the people while the strong odor of the variety of fishes and meat filled your senses.
You stood beside a man with annoyingly bright, blonde hair and a kid with a straw hat that seemed around your age. You watched as he eyed the meat as if he was a second away from jumping onto the counter and devouring it right then and there. Your face unable to hide your judgement as he got reprimanded by the blonde guy with an accent.
Your attention then drifted to his strange attire.
Were straw hats the new trend? The colours of his clothes were an eyesore, the red top contrasting harshly against his blue pants. You couldn't remember the last time you saw someone sane wearing such an odd outfit, but you brushed aside the thought. Each person had their own preferences, you had no right to judge. Not to mention, you could only see their backs and you hadn't even been in the shop long enough to form a fair judgement.
The butcher, whose name you couldn't recall but recognized to an extent, immediately approached you from the other side of the counter. He'd witnessed you grow up before his very eyes, witnessed the way the passionate spark in your eyes had dimmed through the years.
"Well, there's my favourite customer! Finally remembered to visit me, did you?"
He exclaimed proudly, attracting unnecessary attention from the nearby customers at the counter as you stood there. Despite your initial irritation towards his enthusiasm upon seeing you, you managed to cover it with a small smile. At least you always had someone here that would always be excited to see you, you really needed to learn to be more grateful for him.
"It's good to see you too."
You replied politely, pretending not to notice the pair of eyes digging onto you from the side. You may not remember the butcher's name but you certainly remembered his face, he'd always been kind to your family and had even looked after you a few times when your parents were busy.
"How's the painting thing going? Still following your parents' footsteps?"
You nearly scoffed at his question but instead, you glanced away to avoid meeting his gaze. It hurt knowing there were people out there who believed in you that you were disappointing, to know how far you were drifting from the one thing you'd lived your whole life for.
You'd never felt like more of a disappointment than when people mentioned you in the same sentence as your parents. Your parents that had given you every opportunity to pursue your dreams the same way they had, your parents who'd traveled across the world to showcase their passion before cheering audiences. Your parents who'd left you in a heartbeat the moment you were old enough to survive on your own. Your father traveled West, your mother went East, and you were still stuck here like some sort of landmark for them.
"I'm not sure painting is for me anymore."
You confided quietly, watching as he grabbed a whole pound of meat and shoved it inside a plastic bag for you. When your words reached his ears, his face snapped up at you as if he couldn't believe it.
"All you've ever done is paint since you were a kid. I've seen you paint, I've never seen you happier than when you have a brush in your hands."
You sighed at his words, contemplating whether you should tell him the truth or not. You shook your head and swallowed back the lump in your throat as you finally confessed how you'd lost the only way you could express yourself without any restraint. If there was anyone you could communicate your struggles to, it would be him. He'd been there for you through everything despite him surely knowing you couldn't even put a name to his face. You'd been out of it for a while now, barely even living in the same reality that he did.
"I can't paint anymore. Not here, at least. I want to paint but I can't find anything worth painting anymore."
Your eyes never tore from the ground, hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat as you felt his gaze fall upon you. You'd disappointed everyone that believed in you. You'd disappointed yourself. Saying the words out loud made it real, as if you'd engraved your incapabilities into reality. Losing your art meant losing yourself, and in this moment, you'd never felt more lost.
You waited for his response, only to be surprised when the weird teenager beside you spoke up instead.
"Then why not leave?"
He asked so casually as if he was stating the obvious answer, your head finally lifting up to look back at him. You looked at him as if it was a stupid question to ask, which it was. If you could leave, you would have.
But before you could voice anything out, you noticed his face.
For the first time in ages, you noticed a person's features. His face was peculiar, he certainly wasn't from around here. You let your gaze drift over each feature of his, committing them to your memory. His eyes stood out to you the most, followed by the scar on his cheekbone.
His large eyes were so full of passion, gleaming as they stared back into your plain ones. They were reflective, filled with childish naivety. Then came his stitched-up scar that clearly implied that there was more to him than meets the eye. He had history, he had a tale to tell. The hat, the attire, the scar; all of it intrigued you as much as it weirded you out.
You found yourself unable to form words, exhausted eyes glued onto his. He took it as a sign to continue.
"If you can't find anything worth painting here then it might help to find some other place instead."
"It's not as simple as you make it sound. We're surrounded by seas, where would I even go?"
"Someplace different. Anywhere."
"You make it sound like nothing to just leave,as if it's that easy."
"Because it is nothing. You're the only one making it a big deal."
Instead of responding again, you looked away from him. You weren't going to bother having a conversation with someone who clearly didn't understand that the answer to every question wasn't simple.
It seemed he had better things to do as well considering the moment the blonde left, he walked away in the other direction too. You ignored the way he was quickly caught by Bartholomew, the infamously horrible thief of Loguetown. He likely had nothing to offer the thief anyways. If he had any berries, he should've gotten a different pair of pants.
✧ᴗ✿‿✷◕｡◍ᴗ•◍☆
You had to paint him.
For the first time in ages, you had something worth picking up a brush for.
When you arrived, you didn't even bother taking off your coat before grabbing the closest blank canvas and your messy paint palette. You sat at your desk in front of the window, picking up the dried brush between your fingers.
For the first time in ages, you felt the familiar racing of your heart upon seeing the blank canvas.
That day, you skipped all your meals. You never left your desk once. You had to paint him before your mind forgot even a single aspect of his face. Your brush moved on its own, sliding swiftly across the canvas in soft strokes.
Hours later, you ended the painting by dipping a small brush into the white acrylic paint. This was the most important part of the painting, the reason you felt so intrigued to create this in the first place. You carefully lowered the thin tip of the brush onto his right eye, your hand steady as you prepared to give the painting a life of its own.
You repeated the step over his other eye, staring down at what you'd now made. Your breath left your lungs, your heart pounded in your chest, your cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink.
It was perfect. It was a portrait of him but it felt so you.
✧ᴗ✿‿✷◕｡◍ᴗ•◍☆
It was late outside when the lack of a proper meal finally got to you, but you were still too fueled up to ease your appetite. You'd hung the painting on the wall near your bedside, a reminder of the boy that had changed so much by merely existing. By looking the way he did. He may have been dense, but he was interesting. You stared at it for a long time, before picking it back up and holding the canvas carefully beneath your arm.
You finally made a return to the butcher shop to meet your good old friend again, now leaving your house in an entirely different mood.
There was a smile on your face, there was a spark in your eyes.
There was hope.
You passed the same sights again in Loguetown, they seemed brighter now. The moon was high up in the sky, its beam shining down on you like a spotlight. The stars flickers as if applauding you for returning to yourself, like an audience at the end of a musical.
However, there was one thing you regretted.
You regretted going silent abruptly instead of finishing the conversation with the straw hat man, likely giving him a bad impression with how quickly you'd left the previous day with your meat.
You now stood before the same butcher whose name you still didn't remember, a gentle smile on your face that you didn't have to force this time. He stared down at you, not even bothering to mention the earlier situation. It was like he knew you had a reason. He could see the way your eyes lit up again the same way they once did when you were much smaller.
He stared down at you, waiting for you to initiate the conversation this time considering you clearly looked like you had something you were struggling to hold back.
"I painted."
You said the words with the biggest childlike grin on your face. Your shoulders felt lighter, your life had a meaning again. You had a purpose again, and you couldn't wait to tell him about it. His smile mirrored yours, your joy was contagious even to the few workers beside him that didn't know you one bit.
"What did you make?"
You lifted the canvas and turned it around to show him, the same way you used to as a kid when you were drawing stickmen with crayons.
His hands took the canvas from yours, his grip on it gentle yet firm as if it were the most fragile thing he'd ever held. You couldn't read his face, his gaze analyzing the painting keenly as if he was some sort of critic, his analytical eyes trailing from top to bottom. He didn't even blink once until he was done observing every last detail.
"It's the kid from earlier."
"Do you like it?"
"It's your best work yet."
He handed the canvas back to you, his grin now wider than yours. You felt a warmth spread through your whole body, emerging from your heart that had not once stopped pacing since you'd seen the teenager, recalling the advice he'd given you earlier. You hesitated for a moment before speaking up again.
"I think it's time I left."
You declared quietly, placing the canvas back beneath your arm as you glanced up at him. You saw the way his expression changed before his gaze softened, staring down at you.
"I think you're right."
He smiled down at you, reaching a hand across the counter to pat your head, setting down your disheveled hair with his hand. He looked so proud of you, it'd been a long time since you saw that look on someone's face directed towards you. You couldn't help the tears that welled up in your eyes, realizing you'd have to leave him as well if you were truly going.
"But how will I leave? There's nothing but sea surrounding us."
"The kid from earlier is a Captain, his friend is their cook. He has a ship. Apparently they're leaving tonight though. See if you can catch them."
Your mind clouded with thoughts. Even if you did somehow manage to catch up with them, it wasn't guaranteed that they'd let you on their ship. Let alone, you knew absolutely none of them. They may have looked nicer than they actually were, they may even try to kill you for daring to ask such a question.
However, now wasn't the time to hesitate. This was your only shot at leaving this place and truly pursuing your dreams, the one you'd give up everything for, the one you could actually dream about again. You gave your old friend a quick embrace over the counter before speeding away. You made a beeline for your apartment, shoving all your necessities and art supplies into one bag. As you left the building again, you were greeted by the sight of a crowd in just as much of a rush as you.
They were all either running towards the execution platform of Gol D. Roger or away from it. Regardless, it caught your interest.
You stopped by the butcher shop again, tossing him the keys to your room and requesting him to take care of it until you returned someday. He agreed cheerfully, his face full of emotion as he witnessed the young kid he'd basically raised finally stand on their own two feet.
You clutched your bag in one hand with the painting in the other (there wasn't nearly enough space left in the bag for you to keep it inside) and went to the execution platform, greeted by the sight of an insane number of pirates dressed up in strange costumes. You'd lived here your whole life but you didn't exactly remember there being a circus here, a tent near the platform from which clowns with painted faces emerged. There were also a few marines, but the clowns outnumbered them greatly.
It was then that you finally took a look around and spotted the same blonde from earlier, now accompanied by three other people who all somehow had different hair colours. That wasn't the biggest concern here though. You then saw how these three were skillfully taking down all the clowns, each one running to strike them.
But where was their captain?
Before you could finish the thought, one of the clowns began to sprint towards you. It'd probably assumed you were a part of their diverse group considering you had neither a uniform nor a costume on. You'd never really been much of a fighter, spending most of your life holed up in your room or painting the outside world.
Instinctively, you took your bag and smacked it across the clown's head. Since your bag was full of hard art supplies, various kinds of glass and plastic containers, and smaller boxes full of your necessities, it served as a powerful weapon against the clown. You were surprised when the clown got knocked down by the force of your bag. You reached into your bag and took out a blade you had brought along for cutting the edges of paper and smoothing over acrylic paint on a canvas, holding it carefully outwards despite how terrified you were to actually use it.
Thankfully, you didn't have to. The entire area paused as a laugh echoed from above, garnering everyone's attention to the top of the execution platform. You recognized the blue-haired clown from the wanted posters placed everywhere, Buggy, you recalled, but then your attention went to the person kneeling in front of him.
It was the captain from earlier, grinning like a madman as he stared downwards at everyone, while the clown held a sword to his neck from behind. He was laughing, stating how he was going to die like it was a joke, with his hands tied before him. He was greeting death so mockingly for a guy who appeared to be the same age as you, so courageous for someone so young.
You froze in place, not out of shock or fear for what would happen next. No, you froze in complete admiration. Your breath left your lungs as you stared up at him, the same guy you'd judged for wearing a straw hat only a few hours ago. His eyes were so full of determination, gleaming with joy as if it was an honor to be executed the same way Roger was on the platform.
He looked so eerily similar to Roger, it was as if the famed man had appeared on the platform himself. Your eyes stayed glued to him, the world around you a blur as you took in every last expression of his, every sound he let out, the way his grin creased his cheeks, the way his eyes were so wide open, the way he laughed at his own demise.
His laugh was identical to Gol D. Roger's, you knew everyone else was probably thinking the same thing by the way they all stilled. When Buggy lifted his sword and prepared to strike down, you continued staring at the captain. For a moment, you could've sworn he glanced down at you and met your gaze. You could've sworn he held your eyes onto his for a moment too long, as if acknowledging your presence there for his execution.
You didn't have long to ponder onto the thought when lightning struck down on the red-nosed clown, electricity visibly running all the way from the tip of his sword down to his feet. It was as if the skies itself refused to let such a strange being's life end before he'd achieved whatever it was that he wanted. Luffy's hat fell off from the floor and swayed in the wind, landing right before your feet.
You looked away from the sight as the clown's chopped up body came apart, although he was still whining and protesting as all his joints scattered away. Everyone scattered away as various parts of what was once a full man came raining down on them. You swung your bag back up on your shoulder and picked up the straw hat from the ground, carefully lifting it and holding it by its edge in one hand while clutching your canvas tighter in the other.
You looked up from your hat only when you saw a pair of shoes step into your view, glancing back up at the same guy who'd casually dropped life-changing advice like it was the most obvious thing ever before nearly getting executed in the span of a few hours. Those eyes of his that shined like jewels staring back into yours.
"Yours."
You said as you returned the hat to its rightful owner, the canvas still hidden beneath your arm as he took it from you. He put it back on top of his ruffled hair which set it down immediately, his attention now entirely focused on you. He didn't even notice his crew standing there, waiting for him to hurry up so they could leave for good before things got worse.
"The painter, right?"
You couldn't explain why but being called a painter by him sent a surge of warmth through you. Maybe it was the fact that he still considered you a painter despite only knowing of the fact that you'd previously given up, or maybe it was the fact that you actually felt worthy enough of the title again.
However, you quickly snapped out of your trance and gave him a hurried nod in response, remembering the real reason you were standing here. Before you could even utter a word, your lips parted to begin, his eyes diverted to your canvas.
"Oo, is that a painting you made?!"
"I just made it a while back but–"
Yet again, he didn't let you finish speaking. To your horror, his hands reached out to take the canvas. Your grip on it tightened but not enough to secure it from his oddly rubbery arms. You could practically feel the blood creeping up to your face, the tips of your ear a burning shade of red, your heart beating so quick you felt like you'd faint.
What if he judged you for painting him? What if he thought you were some creep? What if he didn't like it? And finally, why did what he think matter so much when you didn't even know his name?
He turned the canvas around to stare back into his own face, his gaze running across it to catch even the tiniest details in the realistic painting. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, the hyper teen suddenly freezing as he took it all in. The scar on his face, the red ribbon on his straw hat, his stupid clothes that you still thought was a terrible combination, and his curly hair. He could've sworn it was a photo, if not for the texture of the paint against his skin. If not for the tiniest imperfections in the nearly perfect painting.
You could've probably done a better job painting his hands but hey, it was still pretty good for someone who hain't painted properly for ages.
"Look, it's– I just saw you and I couldn't help it. You looked very...interesting. But I totally understand if you'd rather I throw it away, it is kind of creepy to draw a stranger now that I think about it..."
He finally looked up at your words, the largest grin forming back on his face as he met your gaze like he always did for some reason. Unlike you, he seemed to love holding eye contact.
"Throw it away?! Creepy?! This is the best painting I've ever seen, and it's of me! You only saw me once but you even made my scar! I look better than a picture!"
You felt incredibly exposed at the fact that he now knew you'd found a muse in him, but relieved at his positively loud reaction. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, skin still flushed as you broke away from his eyes to stare back at the canvas in his hands. You couldn't hold his gaze for long, not when it felt like staring straight into the sun.
You finally had a chance to speak again as he continued looking at you with awe, as if he saw you in a completely new light instead of the lazy demotivated artist you'd previously appeared as.
"You made me want to paint again. I don't know what it was about you, I've never encountered someone as weird and strange as you and I don't think I ever will. I couldn't help but paint you so...thank you for giving me a purpose again. For giving me hope that I could maybe make it someday."
Your voice was low as you carefully thought out each syllable before saying it, entirely aware of how backhanded your compliment seemed despite how oblivious he was to it. You weren't even looking at him yet you could feel his gaze on you soften before an arm clapped on your shoulder to stop you from speaking, forcing you to look back at him as he now stood far closer than before.
You two were the same height, looking into his eyes was unavoidable when this was the proximity he stood in. You felt like Icarus, melting under the gaze of the sun, yet unable to keep away from it.
"I was–"
"We could use a painter in the crew, especially one with your sort of memory. I mean seriously, you saw me once and painted me down to the last detail. You said you were sick of this place, right? Then leave. This is your chance."
He spoke so softly that you were surprised this was the same guy that had previously been laughing like a maniac while almost getting executed. He was convincing you to join his crew as if you hadn't made your decision already, like you weren't just about to ask for permission to hop on the ship with them.
It was almost as if he knew you felt a bit hesitant to ask and saved you the trouble.
"I'd love to."
You smiled slightly, carefully taking the canvas back from his hands to hold in your own. It felt bittersweet. You were leaving the place you'd grown up in, the place you never thought you could learn to grow tired of, the place you never thought you could bring yourself to leave. But now here you were, ready to leave everything behind because some guy you met a few hours ago told you to.
"Any day now," The green-haired one said, muscular arms crossed in front of his chest as he rolled his eyes.
"He's got a point, we have to hurry up before the marines return," The one with orange hair added on in a far more polite tone, unlike the other guy. Meanwhile, the cook from earlier was simply smiling at you without a word. The captain turned his attention towards him, holding out his arms towards you and shaking his hands as if this was some grand reveal.
"Guys, this is our new crew member! A painter!"
He announced, diverting everyone's attention to you. You turned towards them and waved awkwardly, suddenly feeling smaller under their calculative looks, as if they were assessing you solely based on how you existed in that moment.
"Always lovely to have someone so gorgeous aboard," The blonde broke the uncomfortable silence with a grin, pointing the cigarette between his fingers towards you.
You gave him a forced smile before turning your focus back to the others, watching as they went from staring you down to welcoming you to the crew. There was one guy who seemed close to Luffy's age that walked up to you and patted your back, wearing an orange bandana on top of his locs.
"Welcome aboard! Now seriously guys, we have to go. Like, right now," He hurried, concluding the welcoming as he set off on his way towards where the ship was docked. The others followed after him, and so did Luffy. You walked at the same pace as him, your shoes hitting the ground in sync with his sandals. The silence was interrupted when his voice quietly broke through it, his words solely for you to hear.
"And by the way, I didn't 'give you' a purpose. You always had one and you found it on your own, but I'm glad I could be the vessel for you to do so! You're a really good painter, and I know you'll make it one day."
He added casually before catching up to the rest of the crew, as if he hadn't said the words you didn't know you wanted to hear for so long. He believed in you. Someone actually thought you would eventually achieve what you have been striving for your whole life. How could someone like him go from being the strangest person you've ever met to someone spilling philosophy that affected you so deeply?
That night, you slept on a hammock that was incredibly uncomfortable and would not stop swaying due to the movement of the ship but you slept soundly. In fact, it was the best sleep you'd had in a while. You couldn't wait to wake up and paint the seas you were now in the middle of. You were exhilarated simply by the thought of all the sights you'd witness during this adventure.
Meanwhile, a painting of him hung right in the center of the ship's lounge. A painting of him, that felt like you.
ever since reader joined the ship, she has admired sanji and noticed every little thing he did. she observed his every move and saw everything, including his love for Nami.
a/n: all my one piece works are going to be exclusively opla FOR NOW cause i have yet to watch the anime and i aint gonna write about something i barely know about 😔 HOWEVER, i started watching it today and i like it so far so maybe soon!!
____________
You were a fairly recent addition to the crew and wouldn't have even been a part of it if not for Nami's recommendation to Luffy.
You grew up alongside Nami in the Conomi Islands, you'd been a friend of her and Nojiko since the two of you were children. The lady that had taken them in, and raised the two as their own, had been close to your mother which lead to the three of you practically being raised together.
Your bond had grown closer due to your shared poverty and love of tangerines, not like you had a choice to dislike it considering it surrounded you every step you took.
When Arlong arrived and established control over the entirety of Coco Village, your mothers sacrificed themselves to protect you. You expected the three of you to work together to survive after their passing, only to be left shattered when you discovered Nami decided to be one of Arlong's pathetic followers not long after.
That left you and Nojiko to grow together, bonding over your shared hatred for the traitor that worked for your mothers' killer, and survived with the help of the villagers that appeared to care more than she ever did.
Decades later, the crew arrived at your doorstep, offering an exchange of food for information on Nami. Although her name had grown to be a forbidden topic amongst you two, the promise of food was too good to ignore. You ate silently in the corner while Nojiko spoke to them, still too hurt by the entire situation as if it had taken place only yesterday, too crushed to willingly recall the memories of the childhood you'd once shared.
A day or two later, not long after the sun had set, Nojiko arrived back home in a hurry and told you to rush out of bed. Still dazed from your evening nap, you could barely make sense of her words but were brought to your senses when she mentioned Nami. How her betrayal had been a sacrifice all along, how she'd suffered far more than you had for the protection of Coco Village, how all of this had been a meticulous plan curated by her to save the rest of you.
You and Nojiko ran to tell the other villagers, stopping only when you saw fishmen arriving with torches once the night had become dark. Your whispered truth of Nami being innocent turned into loud cries for everyone to leave their homes before they burned down with it.
The next morning, you had all planned to take down Arlong Park together. The villagers gathered outside the village that had now been burnt down to ash and soot and broken planks that could barely stand.
The Straw Hat Crew refused to let anyone accompany them, proudly proclaiming that this was theirs to handle, but you were stubborn. You discreetly followed them after they'd left, refusing to stand aside and have other people risk their own lives to save your community. You wanted to help them, you felt obligated to, especially when it was against the people that had held you and your dearests oppressed for so many decades.
Not to mention, you were insanely good with blades. Knives, swords, any sort of your blade worked in your hand as if it was meant to be there in the first place. You stayed near the boundary, slashing the fishmen near the outer walls of the park away from their view.
That was until a far larger fisherman caught you off-guard, suddenly appearing behind you while you were busy attacking another one more your size. Using its sheer brute force, it grabbed you by the scruff of your shirt and threw you straight against a wall inside the park.
The wall cracked slightly behind you, your back aching as a sharp soreness ran up your spine, but you got up regardless with two knives still clutched in each of your fists. Fighting back wasn't your biggest concern anymore, but getting caught by the crew was, considering you didn't want t end up as an obstacle in their way while trying to help.
Tightening your fingers around the knives, you charged at the fishman. However, before you could reach him, a sharp kick directed straight at its head knocked it down to the ground in an instant. Following the kick, you pierced your blade straight into its neck and finished off the creature.
You looked up, noticing the same blonde you had seen earlier standing beside Nami when they returned to the village, now staring down at you. He sighed before extending a hand out, still keeping an eye out for any other fishmen and leaving the rest to Zoro for the time being,
"Didn't Luffy tell you all that we'd handle it? A pretty girl like you shouldn't be gettin' hurt out here when we're there to protect you."
You couldn't tell if his words were an insult or a compliment. He seemed slightly frustrated at your injured presence while also giving you weirdly intense eyes, as if he was attracted to you but also pissed about having to protect another reckless person.
"He may have, but this is still my village. It is my duty to protect it and I don't care what you say, I'm not going anywhere."
The man glanced at you before finally looking away, another sigh leaving him as if he was exhausted by the entire situation. Eventually, he nodded and walked away again, seemingly having decided he'd wasted enough time questioning you instead of beating up these fishmen.
However, as you fought the fishmen on the opposite side of the park, your mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of the blonde whose name you had yet to discover.
Maybe ten minutes or so later, after the fishmen had all been taken care of and Arlong was the only one left, Nami emerged from the large tower in the center that Luffy was still inside. You stood sheepishly to the side, ignoring the gaze of the three guys with very different hair still staring at you.
When Nami arrived, the blonde called out for her with his arms extended, but was completely ignored as she went straight for the green-haired swordsman and the guy with a slingshot who had appeared at the scene only a few minutes ago.
The next second, Nami's eyes laid down on you.
"____? Did you come here to fight?"
She asked cautiously, approaching you as if she still wasn't sure whether you had forgiven her yet or not. You gave her a small smile before wrapping your arms around her, bringing her into a tight embrace as you responded quietly into her shoulder.
"I couldn't just rest back at the village while my sister fended for herself, could I?"
You pulled back slightly from the hug, noticing the water forming in her eyes and letting out a small laugh as you wiped them off before they fell down. The sweet reunion, however, was quickly broken when a loud crack from the tower snapped your attention back to the fact that Luffy was still inside.
After five minutes of hearing the tower slowly falling apart, it all came down into a pile of dust and smoke that the wind forcefully blew at your face. Luffy emerged from the pile of dust and debris, relieving everyone and declaring Nami as his friend before everyone, setting off the final blow that made her tears finally fall.
That lead to your current situation.
A month had passed, a very long one at that, and you were now accompanying them on their trip to the Grand Line. You'd accompanied them on the rest of their insane adventures and memories everyone's names in the process.
You'd also come to notice a certain man very closely, the same man you'd first interacted with, whom you learnt was named Sanji.
He loved cooking, he lived a portion of his life in each dish. Regardless of how many meals he prepared, the different varieties of meat he'd use, how much effort each plate took, he'd keep cooking. From dusk till dawn, he'd keep himself busy in the kitchen curating the most flavorful food you had tasted in your entire existence, ensuring maximum taste with minimum ingredients.
You observed the way Usopp had once purchased Oregano at a shop in Loguetown, alongside other seasonings, and handed it over to Sanji. He'd likely meant it as a sweet gesture, believing it would benefit Sanji due to his love for using various kinds of additions that made his dishes taste so fantastic, but he seemed to have completely missed Sanji's deep hatred towards Oregano in particular.
The cook faked a smile at Usopp but the moment he was out of his sight, Sanji threw the container straight into the trash. He muttered the word 'savage' under his breath as if it was a curse. Sanji believed in never wasting any ingredient, however, he didn't even consider Oregano as an ingredient. To him, it was a pathetic waste of salt and dried basil leaves. If he had a say in it, Oregano would be wiped out of existence.
You'd also noticed the quarrels between Zoro and him, the way they'd constantly compete over who was stronger. It'd be stupid competitions over who could catch the bigger fish, who could hunt a larger animal, who had the smarter idea in stressful situations, who would win if the pair were to fight; they'd battle over every little thing under the sun.
However, they both discreetly cared for each other beneath the argumentative exterior. You saw how Sanji always kept aside a bottle of Sake for Zoro, or bought extra bottles of any alcohol he could find if they'd run out. You saw the way Zoro would somehow coincidentally show up whenever his rival had gotten himself into more trouble, the way the 'mosshead' would always have a small smile on his face after each intense debate when he thought no one was watching.
You noticed how much Sanji adored Luffy, how him and Zoro ensured his protection and how the young captain did the same thing back. He was the crew's hope, the one who gave them light when they'd been trapped in the dark, the one who relit the fire of their dreams and gave their life a purpose again.
The ones who were previously going about their life with the sole purpose of surviving, now lived each day with an actual goal in mind. It was all thanks to Luffy.
Similar to Luffy, no one had believed in Sanji's mission to discover the All Blue aside from Zeff. The only other person who supported his dream, believed it was real as well, was none other than the chaotic captain himself. In a way, Sanji found himself relating to Luffy through their shared dreams of achieving what others thought was impossible.
Sanji absolutely adored the kid and would show it through small gestures. He'd grill extra meat with the sole purpose of feeding Luffy, he'd constantly refill his plate whenever he was about to finish, always tag along with him wherever he went, and nag him as if he was his own son.
A few times, Luffy would even fall asleep in Sanji's arms after an excruciating battle, and Sanji strongly refused to move despite how sore he would get. He'd glare daggers at anyone who passed by, a silent warning for them to mind their own business, a threat that they would be thrown overboard if they accidentally woke up the exhausted captain. Whenever Luffy wasn't in his arms and sleeping on the hammock or the crow's nest or any other odd part of the ship, Sanji would somehow find him every single time and cautiously place a thin blanket over him, ignoring the others sleeping nearby.
Finally, there was one more thing you noticed.
Sanji never looked away from Nami. He was head over heels for her.
Ranging from how touchy he was with her to the way his entire face would light up whenever she'd walk into the kitchen, the way he'd feel upset when she was, the way he felt everything she did.
Meanwhile you? You were simply an admirer.
Quiet, rarely ever speaking up unless absolutely necessary, and only having the occasional conversation with Nami and Luffy. It was strange how you'd spoken more to Zoro than you had to Sanji.
You did initially question the first interaction you had with him, the way he'd looked at you that implied something far different that the disinterest he portrayed now. He still occasionally glanced at you with a similar intensity, and a deadly grin that you would never move on from, but then Nami confirmed that he did the same to every breathing creature of the opposite sex.
So you continued watching. Each day, you'd observe how he woke up an hour or two before everyone to cook breakfast and decorated Nami's plate far more delicately than the rest. You'd observe how he'd pay close attention to every move she made, the same way you did with him, and somehow incorporated whatever he remembered from their conversations into his meals.
When he found out Nami had grown on a tangerine grove, alongside you, he immediately began creating new delicacies that involved tangerines. Especially since they'd brought back three of the plants from Coco Village, he had all he needed to continue experimenting with them for Nami. Of course, he was still kind enough to always make another plate for you as well because he didn't want to leave you out, especially when both you and Nami shared your love for tangerines.
A month passed, then two, then three. Eventually, half a year had passed and the two of you had barely spoken aside from his meaningless one-liner pickup lines that would drive you up the wall, or when he'd ask you about things Nami liked since you were apparently the closest to her.
Finally, you gathered up enough courage to initiate a conversation with him instead of crushing on him silently. You'd always been the muted one that would hide in the shadows and never speak unless spoken to, with the sole exception of a few people. It was time you changed this habit.
"Sanji."
"Mm? Did you need something, love?"
The moment he responded, eyes still glued to whatever the hell he was making this time, you nearly fell to the wooden floor of the ship. The way he called you love as if it was second nature to him, as if it did nothing to you. Your thumping heart threatened to burst out of your chest and present itself on the counter before him, a loud and embarrassing proclamation that would display how a mere nickname threatened to put you in cardiac arrest.
"What...are you making?"
You nearly stumbled over your words, catching yourself instead by pausing because a small pause was far less embarrassing than a flustered stutter.
"Tryin' a new dish called a Tangerine Soufflé. Pretty easy but I have to freeze it for four hours after, takes up a lot of time."
You gave a slow nod, pretending as if you had any idea what that dish was and it wasn't your first time hearing of it. The thump in your heart reduced a bit upon the realization that he was probably making this for Nami again, his precious tangerine girl that he adored everything about.
"What's your favorite kind of soufflé?"
You inquired in a softer voice, holding onto the edge of the counter and leaning in slightly towards what he was making to get a better a look at his expertise. It was also an excuse to avoid staring at him, knowing it'd cause you to screw up the first time you get to have an actual conversation with him.
"Chocolate. Easier to work with, delicious results. Not really much of a soufflé fan though, I'm more of a seafood guy."
He clarified as if you weren't already aware of it. Spicy seafood pasta, the one thing he'd bring up in every conversation concerning food, and the one meal he believed could never be ruined even with the addition of the despicable Oregano.
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
You leaned back from the soufflé he was so focused on, still keeping a healthy distance between you two because you were convinced he would otherwise be able to hear the way your breathing was now manual and the blood pulsing inside your veins.
"Hate to say this but your curiosity's gonna have to wait a bit, love. This soufflé requires all my attention if I want to perfect it."
There he goes again with the nickname as if he wasn't currently sending you off, as if he hadn't added it to soften the dismissal. All his attention was now on perfecting a soufflé for Nami, the girl he actually liked. He never even noticed you, and you'd never tried to be noticed until it was already too late. Nami already had him before you'd even known him.
Your lips pursed into a thin line as you nodded, taking in a deep breath before turning around to leave. Your presence wasn't welcome or needed and he'd made it clear enough, maybe this was what you needed to move on.
"Right. Maybe later."
You awkwardly cleared your throat, suddenly regretting the fact that you approached him in the first place. He clearly didn't want to talk to you, you were just bothering him with your small talk while he was actually making good use of his time. You walked away without another word, your footsteps barely making a sound on the wood as you tried to leave as quietly as you could.
But for a moment, you could've sworn you felt his gaze on your back as you left. You almost looked back when he let out a sigh almost as if he didn't want you to leave, but you convinced yourself you were overthinking and being stupid due to your infatuation with him.
You went up to the deck where you found Nami, leaning against the railing as if she had been waiting for you. Her lips curled up slightly as she broke the comforting silence with a question,
"How did it go?"
"How did what go?"
"Your conversation with Sanji."
You were confused, to say the least. Why would Nami inquire about your conversation with Sanji? It wasn't like it was that big of a deal for you to talk to someone else, maybe to you but it shouldn't be to her. It shouldn't matter to her whether you spoke to him or not.
Unless she was jealous. Unless she liked him back and wanted to make sure you hadn't tried anything on him.
Once again, you brushed aside these thoughts. It was none of your business anymore.
"It went fine. He's busy making you something."
You'd never seen Nami look more confused than she did in that second, her eyes staring at you as if you were speaking in a language she couldn't comprehend. A pause later, she questioned again,
"Making something for me?"
She asked as if it was the strangest thing in the world, as if it wasn't something he always did. You'd seen the two talk for hours, the way he'd curate every dish to fit her liking.
"Yeah. A tangerine soufflé or something."
She continued staring at you, you couldn't exactly decipher what she was thinking behind her gaze but she still seemed confused as if this was out of the ordinary.
"For me?"
"Like usual."
You responded to her repeated question, hating the way you'd let a hint of bitterness slip into your words. You couldn't believe how oblivious she was acting. She was living your dream yet pretending that she wasn't even aware of it. She was getting everything you wanted and didn't even seem to appreciate it.
"I told him to make it."
She clarified, only now realizing that she should maybe try explaining why she was so confused instead of blankly staring and asking so many questions.
"I told him to make it for you."
You froze in place. Now it was your turn to be confused and stare blankly at her as if she'd said the most outrageous thing you'd ever heard. You paused before letting out the only word you could come up with in that moment, a small scoff leaving your mouth alongside it due to the ridiculousness of the statement.
"What?"
"Yeah, I told him you like tangerines and gave him the recipe for the soufflé! He's making it for you, not me!"
Your heart raced again at the thought of Sanji making something, that would take so long to bake, explicitly for you. You continued staring at Nami, swallowing the bile forming in your throat as you thought over the conversation you just had with Sanji. The adrenaline that had rushed through your veins at her statement immediately vanished once you recalled what had happened less than ten minutes ago.
"No, he- I tried talking to him and he sent me out. I doubt he's making it for me. He's always been yours, Nami."
Before Nami could respond, a voice behind you did it for her instead,
"Said who? The only reason I even sent you out was because I wanted to make sure that bloody soufflé would be the best thing you ever tasted."
You couldn't bring yourself to turn around, watching as the tangerine girl now gave you a grin before leaving. She turned around once more to give you a knowing look while you cursed her out in your head, watching her leave you alone in this peculiar situation.
You turned around slowly, meeting his gaze and hoping the burn you felt across your body wasn't visible to him. That he couldn't see the way your face flushed pink and how forced your uncomfortable smile looked.
"How the hell did you even think that was for Nami? I've been cookin' for you this whole time!"
He declared as if the sentence he had overheard from your conversation had been the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard. He looked exasperated, staring at you as if you'd grown another head right before his eyes. You finally took in a deep breath and decided to respond as well, despite how awkward you felt about this whole situation, despite the way you could feel your the rush of serotonin in your veins.
"You really can't be blaming me right now. You spend each second on this ship with Nami, talking to her, putting your arm around her shoulders. It's only fair that I would assume you were making all this stuff for her too."
"All this time, you thought I put tangerines in everything for Nami? I spend all this time talking to her to ask about you. And I put my arm around Usopp and Luffy as well, hell, I've probably even put it around that mosshead on the rare occasion but that doesn't mean I'm dying to be with him, does it?"
The entire back-and-forth had started making you feel lighthearted. This was the longest conversation the two of you had ever had, and it consisted of him implying that he felt the same way you had for half a year.
"You always ask me about Nami."
"Because you two share everything! You guys are practically the same person when it comes to likes and dislikes. I ask you what she likes and dislikes to know what you like and dislike."
You let out a sigh and tore your eyes away from him. Your head was starting to hurt from the suddenness of this whole revelation, from the fact that the man you had been pining over since the day he defended you at Arlong Park had been doing the same this entire time. You didn't even know if you were breathing anymore, it didn't feel like you were.
"Why do you want to know me?"
You enquired as if you were interrogating him, eyes finally looking back into his ocean ones. The two of you had barely ever spoken, rarely ever interacted. It didn't make sense to you that he would want to know you.
"Because I like you? Isn't that obvious by now?"
The words came out of his mouth as if he was asking about the weather, as if it was something you should've figured out after all the explanations he had just given. You were already puzzled enough by him trying to know you, but this confession of his feelings nearly stopped your heart as a whole. You stood there, silent, unable to form a response to his words.
"____, please tell me you didn't think I was after Nami this whole time. The whole reason I avoided you until now was because I-"
He paused abruptly for a second, wondering whether he should finish the statement or stop before it got too far. He took in a deep breath and decided to continue speaking to your bewildered face.
"It was because I've never felt this way about anyone else before. I've been attracted to women before, I've flirted with many, but they all pale in comparison to you. Ever since I saw you, I haven't been able to find anyone else attractive. I haven't wanted to know any other woman the way I want to know you. I haven't wanted to love any other woman the way I want to love you."
In that moment, you were convinced you lived in a simulation and none of this was real. A long pause, only interrupted by the sound of the waves and the breeze slowly drifting past you two, followed after his words. You still had no idea what to say. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate your feelings, let alone be so passionate about it.
You'd noticed everything about this man but not the fact that all along, he had been noticing you back.
"I prefer chocolate soufflé over tangerine too."
The absurd statement left your mouth, out of place in the current situation but reducing the tension regardless. A small smile formed on your lips, your face burning as you kept your eyes locked onto his the entire time. You noticed the way his eyes softened at your words, those ocean eyes that had you drowning in them now stared back into yours with so much affection in them. With a quiet laugh, he replied into the cold night air,
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FROM SEASON 1 OPLA: When Zoro decides to fight Dracule Mihawk and loses, Nami blames you and Luffy.
OPLA! RORONOA ZORO x READER
[ established relationship between reader and zoro. ]
(im still learning how to use tumblr when it comes to writing stuff yall this is so hard)
"Luffy, it's not like you could've stopped him. Once Zoro puts his mind to something, no one can stop him," You tried to console the young captain for the millionth time. After Nami had given him her speech on how it was his fault for not changing Zoro's mind, the poor boy had begun questioning his own decisions.
Ever since Zoro decided to duel the current greatest swordsman in the world and lost horrifiyingly with a giant scar slicing across his front, the entire crew had grown considerably more tense. Sanji and Usopp hadn't known him for very long but they sympathized with the rest of you, being cautious of each word they spoke as the Baratie cook prepared you all a meal.
"My gut hasn't exactly been right these days. I keep sending us straight into trouble, and now with Zoro as well," Luffy countered politely, his tone depressingly cheerful as he spoke. He still had that smile on his face, although it looked far more miserable now. However, the way he turned away after responding to you was enough of a hint that he wanted to end the conversation and allow his thoughts to swallow him whole for the time being.
You considered staying for a second but eventually decided otherwise, instead focusing on confronting Nami for burdening him so much when everyone was already upset enough. The entire ship was grieving, you understood that she was too, but that was no excuse to be placing all the blame on Luffy.
"Nami," You began quietly, choosing to approach her delicately as if she was a skittish animal. One wrong word would likely result in an unpredictable reaction from the redhead sat beside your boyfriend. "What you said really affected Luffy, you know?"
"Good. He needs to learn how to make the right decisions in the future if he's going to be Captain," She sighed out in response, her back still turned to you as she stared down at Zoro's bandages. You knew how much this was affecting her beneath her guise of nonchalance, but she wasn't the only one hurting.
"You can't just blame Luffy for all of this as if Zoro didn't make the decision himself. Luffy couldn't have changed his mind-" You started cautiously, maintaining a stable, low volume the entire time as you took one step forward. You stopped moving when Nami suddenly sprang up from her seat, turning around abruptly, before staring straight into your eyes.
"You know what, maybe you're right. I can't blame Luffy for all of this, not when you're also at fault," She suddenly snapped, her tone a whisper yell as she got far too close to your face for comfort. You simply stared back at her, not letting her see how her words impacted you. You sighed as your eyes momentarily glanced at Zoro behind her and his pale bandages that were tainted red near where his wound hid beneath it.
"Nami, that's not fair," You began as you glanced back into her eyes, still being careful with your words despite how much hurt and grief you were feeling in that moment. You'd already been blaming yourself since the incident took place, recalling the way you had told Nami before the fight that it was Zoro's choice and let him face the one man he'd always sworn to beat. "You know as well as I do that it was no one's fault. I get that you're hurting but it is not an excuse to hurt others."
"I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to point out how wrong you were. You allowed him to walk out, you allowed him to fight Mihawk knowing he was barely prepared. If there was one person who could've changed his mind, it wouldn't have been Luffy. It should've been you." She justified her words, each syllable that escaped her mouth laced with venom that managed to strike right at your already growing guilt. You didn't respond this time, you had no argument left when you knew she was still grieving as much as you were. Escalating the situation any further would only be worse for both of you and in this moment, you chose to be silent.
"I hope you know that if he never wakes up, it's all your fault." She concluded before pushing past you to grab her bag and leave, closing the door behind her with that one final blow. You hadn't even tried to think of the possibility of him not waking up, you couldn't bring yourself to imagine a world where he wasn't by your side.
You slowly went up to the chair where Nami was previously sat, your steps still silent as if he was simply asleep and you didn't want to wake him up. You leaned back on the chair after taking a seat and stared at his face, letting out a deep breath upon seeing how peaceful he appeared. You couldn't even bring your eyes to glance any further down, too afraid to see his injury up close.
"Luffy's been preparing your sword for you but he still hasn't learnt its name. It's funny hearing the multiple names he comes up with, my favourite one is the 'Wado Itchy Monkey'," You finally broke the silence with an amused scoff as you recalled the memory, unsure of what to even talk about in a one-sided conversation but remembering how Zeff had mentioned speaking to him to remind him his crew was still here.
"He blames himself for what happened," You added on, breaking your stare to glance down at your fingers. There wasn't a single movement from him, he slept so soundly as if there wasn't a world out here waiting for him to wake up. "I think I do too."
"But I don't think I'd stop you even if I could make the decision again, regardless of the consequence," You added on thoughtfully, considering your next words carefully before continuing on. "Mihawk respects you now, he respects your dream. He knows you now. If anything, you're one more step closer to getting what you've always wanted. I still think it was very impulsive, but I know you would've said it was worth it."
You still refused to look up, refused to acknowledge the slight shift in the air. You were too lost in your thoughts to even notice the way the man before you tensed, his jaw tightening while his eyes remained shut. You had yet to notice the way his relaxed expression shifted into a concentrated one, as if he was focused on every word leaving your mouth but didn't want you to know he had woken up yet.
"You have to wake up though, you can't just leave behind your dreams. You can't leave behind your crew or your captain," You bit down lightly on your bottom lip as your emotions began overwhelming you. The mere idea of Zoro never waking up was enough to surface the hurt you'd been trying to hide, the grief you refused to show while trying to console the others.
"You can't leave me behind," You finished, the last sentence a whisper that you couldn't say out loud. Your eyes began to blink slightly faster, a last ditch effort to stop any tears from forming as you kept your gaze held down, too afraid to look up at him in the scenario that he was truly gone and you were talking to someone that wasn't listening.
"Not even for a nap?" A voice above you grumbled, forcing you out of your thoughts. Your head snapped up, staring at the grass-haired man that had his head now turned towards you with a smug look. He seemed proud of himself for tricking you into thinking he hadn't woken up, but his face appeared soft in a way you hadn't seen in a very long time, not since the day he casually asked you to be his partner and you not-so-casually agreed.
You were at a complete loss for words, wide eyes staring back into his tired ones as he waited for you to speak. You took in a deep breath after all the wind had just been knocked out of you the previous second, "How long?" was the only question you could muster out despite the millions forming in your mind.
"Since Nami left. Speaking of Nami, I had this-" He started, only to be cut off by a loud voice announcing himself from the doorway. Before Zoro could even process Luffy's presence, the ecstatic boy jumped onto his wrapped body. You managed to hold him back from crushing the still recovering man entirely, while also allowing him to have his own moment of reunion.
For now, your questions could wait. All that mattered in this moment was that he was awake and the injury hadn't negatively impacted him in any way. He was still his exhausted and grumpy self.
You got out of the chair and stood a few steps back, allowing the captain to have a heartfelt moment with his first mate. A small, loving smile formed on your face as you stared at the pair. Outside, the others would be waiting to know the happy news themselves, to see the man that had put his life on the line for his dreams and made it out alive.
After a long and gruesome wait, the crew was finally back together.
HUSBAND! NANAMI KENTO X READER
an attempt at angst :P
i feel like an old woman whenever i try posting on tumblr, idk how to use this thing </3
Your husband had always warned you that marrying him would seal your fate as a widow, that he was bound to die eventually in his line of work.
You and him had always been destined to end up together. Since you two were kids, both your relatives would gush over how adorable of a couple you would make. You went to the same middle school and high school, nothing changed. Your classmates would catch you two simply having a conversation in the hallways and make weird faces as they passed by. Everyone, even the two of you, knew you'd inevitably end up with one another.
You were stubborn in your decision, you refused to believe his constant advice and married him nonetheless. Could you blame yourself? Despite all the warnings, he'd still selfishly gotten down on one knee to propose when the time came. He'd given you false hope of a better life far into the future.
On your wedding day, you could see flashes into how life would eventually be. You imagined the many lives you two would live, the many outcomes of marrying him. In none of those thoughts, did you imagine a life without him.
On October 31st, 2018, you didn't just lose your husband. You'd lost your future. You'd lost everything. You didn't even process the information when it first arrived to your doorstep in the form of a very depressed Yuuji. He cried, repeating how terrible he felt, and you consoled him as if nothing had happened until he left feeling lighter.
Because in your mind, nothing had happened. This was all a dream. Your overworked husband was still at work and late to dinner because the subway was slow. You texted him like you usually would,
'Will you be home for dinner?'
In your reality, he was still on his way home. Maybe the subway was too crowded and he couldn't take out his phone. Yes, that's why he hadn't texted or called. He was on his way. He was running late.
A month passed, then two. You were invited to the makeshift funeral the jujutsu sorcerers had so kindly made for Nanami. You didn't attend it. You refused to believe he was dead, you told them so. Yuuji argued that he'd seen Nanami explode into pieces with his own two eyes, that there was no chance of him being alive, and you still refused to believe him despite knowing he had never once lied to you.
You descended into madness and everyone was a witness to your grief. You never left the house, stating that you wanted to be home for whenever your husband came back. You wore his watch. You cleaned his glasses. You hung up his coats on the rack. You ironed his favorite shirt everyday. You never once took off the ring even when sleeping. Because Nanami would come back, and you wanted the house to look the same as it did when he left.
And each night, you set down two plates of his favorite meal on the table across from each other and called out cheerfully,
