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little-p-eng-engineering · 2 months

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Comprehensive Overview of Engineering Services by Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant

Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant is a highly reputable firm renowned for its expertise in providing a wide range of engineering services. With a dedicated team of professionals, state-of-the-art technology, and a commitment to excellence, Little P.Eng. serves various industries and clients across the globe. In this comprehensive article, we will explore the key engineering services offered by Little P.Eng., including material handling, seismic design, structural engineering, piping stress analysis, above-ground tank design, and pressure vessel design.

Introduction to Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant

Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant is a leading player in the engineering consulting domain, offering innovative solutions and technical expertise to address the unique challenges faced by industries such as manufacturing, construction, energy, and petrochemicals. The firm's success is founded on a solid reputation for delivering cost-effective and reliable engineering solutions.

The Core Values of Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant

Excellence: The firm strives for excellence in all its endeavors, aiming to exceed client expectations in every project.

Integrity: Little P.Eng. operates with utmost integrity, ensuring transparency, honesty, and ethical practices throughout its operations.

Innovation: Innovation is at the heart of the firm's approach. It constantly explores new technologies and methodologies to stay at the forefront of the industry.

Safety: Safety is a top priority, and the firm places great emphasis on designing structures and systems that prioritize the safety of personnel and the environment.

Now, let's dive into the detailed engineering services offered by Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant:

1. Material Handling Engineering

Material handling engineering is an integral aspect of modern industrial operations. It involves the design and optimization of systems and equipment for the efficient movement, storage, control, and protection of materials and products. Little P.Eng.'s material handling experts excel in creating tailored solutions that enhance productivity, reduce manual labor, and ensure the safe flow of materials.

Key Aspects of Material Handling Engineering by Little P.Eng.

a. Conveyor Systems

Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant specializes in the design and implementation of conveyor systems customized to specific industries and requirements. These systems facilitate the smooth and automated movement of goods within facilities, leading to streamlined production processes and reduced labor costs.

b. Automated Material Handling

Automation is a significant trend in material handling, and Little P.Eng. is at the forefront of implementing cutting-edge robotic and automation technologies. These innovations optimize operations by reducing errors and increasing efficiency.

c. Warehouse Design

Little P.Eng. ensures that warehouse layouts are optimized for maximum storage capacity and accessibility. Their designs enhance inventory management and expedite order fulfillment, resulting in improved overall operational efficiency.

d. Packaging Equipment

Packaging plays a crucial role in product protection and presentation. Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant designs packaging equipment tailored to handle various materials and products efficiently, enhancing the final product's quality and appearance.

e. Safety Measures

Safety is paramount in material handling, and Little P.Eng. prioritizes the design of systems that minimize risks associated with material movement and handling. This includes comprehensive safety measures and training for personnel.

2. Seismic Design

Seismic design is a specialized field focused on ensuring that buildings and structures can withstand the forces generated by earthquakes. As seismic events can cause catastrophic damage, Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant excels in designing structures that prioritize safety and resilience in seismic-prone areas.

Key Aspects of Seismic Design by Little P.Eng.

a. Seismic Hazard Assessment

Little P.Eng.'s seismic design experts perform thorough seismic hazard assessments by analyzing historical data, fault lines, and ground motion characteristics. This data informs the design process, ensuring structures are prepared for potential seismic events.

b. Structural Analysis

Seismic design requires an in-depth understanding of structural analysis to assess how a building or structure will respond to seismic forces. Little P.Eng.'s engineers employ advanced analysis techniques to ensure structural integrity.

c. Innovative Design Techniques

Little P.Eng. embraces innovative seismic design techniques, including base isolators, damping systems, and the use of reinforced materials. These approaches enhance a structure's ability to withstand seismic forces.

d. Code Compliance

Compliance with building codes and seismic design standards is paramount. Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant ensures that all designs meet or exceed the necessary regulatory requirements to guarantee the safety of structures in seismic-prone regions.

e. Retrofitting and Rehabilitation

In addition to new construction, Little P.Eng. offers retrofitting and rehabilitation services for existing structures, bringing them up to modern seismic standards and ensuring their ongoing safety.

3. Structural Engineering

Structural engineering is the cornerstone of designing and constructing safe, robust, and resilient buildings, bridges, dams, towers, and other critical infrastructure. Little P.Eng. excels in the design and evaluation of structural systems to ensure their stability and safety under various loads.

Key Aspects of Structural Engineering by Little P.Eng.

a. Load Analysis

Little P.Eng.'s structural engineers are experts in calculating loads, stresses, and deformations on structures. They perform comprehensive load analyses to determine the most suitable structural solutions.

b. Material Selection

Choosing the right materials is crucial for structural integrity and durability. Little P.Eng. considers factors such as the type of structure, environmental conditions, and budget constraints to make informed material selections.

c. Structural Systems

Little P.Eng. engineers meticulously design structural systems, including beams, columns, and foundations, to efficiently distribute loads and prevent structural failure. Innovative solutions are employed to optimize performance.

d. Computer-Aided Design

Advanced software tools play a vital role in structural engineering. Little P.Eng. utilizes cutting-edge software for structural analysis and design, allowing for precise calculations, simulations, and 3D modeling.

e. Safety Standards

Safety is a top priority in structural engineering. Little P.Eng. ensures strict compliance with safety standards and building codes to protect the well-being of the public and occupants of structures.

4. Piping Stress Analysis

In industries where industrial piping systems are prevalent, such as petrochemical plants, power facilities, and refineries, piping stress analysis is crucial. Little P.Eng. specializes in designing and evaluating these systems to ensure they can withstand thermal expansion, contraction, pressure, and other forces without failure or leaks.

Key Aspects of Piping Stress Analysis by Little P.Eng.

a. Layout and Design

Little P.Eng.'s experts work on the layout and design of complex piping networks, accounting for factors like fluid flow, temperature changes, and equipment connections. Their designs optimize performance and minimize energy consumption.

b. Stress Calculations

Engineers at Little P.Eng. calculate stresses and deformations in piping systems using advanced software. This includes considering thermal gradients, pressure differentials, and material properties to ensure structural integrity.

c. Support Systems

Proper support systems and hangers are essential to prevent sagging, vibration, and excessive stress on pipes. Little P.Eng. designs support systems that enhance the longevity of piping networks.

d. Material Selection

Selecting the appropriate materials is critical to withstand corrosive substances, high temperatures, and high-pressure conditions. Little P.Eng. engineers make informed material choices to ensure durability.

e. Code Compliance

Little P.Eng. ensures that all piping systems adhere to industry standards and codes, such as ASME B31.3 for process piping. Compliance is vital for the safety and regulatory compliance of the systems.

5. Above-Ground Tank Design

Above-ground tanks are widely used for storing liquids and gases in various industries, including oil and gas, chemical processing, and water treatment. Little P.Eng. specializes in designing these tanks to meet specific requirements while ensuring safety and compliance.

Key Aspects of Above-Ground Tank Design by Little P.Eng.

a. Tank Sizing

Little P.Eng. engineers determine the appropriate tank size based on the volume and characteristics of the stored materials. Their designs optimize space and efficiency.

b. Material Selection

The choice of tank material is a critical consideration, and Little P.Eng. selects materials that align with the type of substance being stored, whether it is corrosive, flammable, or sensitive to temperature changes.

c. Construction Methods

Above-ground tanks can be constructed using various methods, including welded steel, concrete, and fiberglass. Little P.Eng. evaluates the best construction method based on project-specific requirements and regulations.

d. Safety Features

Safety features are paramount in tank design. Little P.Eng. ensures that tanks incorporate features such as overflow protection, pressure relief systems, and leak detection to prevent accidents and environmental damage.

e. Regulatory Compliance

Design consultants at Little P.Eng. ensure that above-ground tanks meet all regulatory requirements, including those outlined in codes like API 650 for steel tanks. Compliance is essential for environmental protection and safety.

6. Pressure Vessel Design

Pressure vessels are critical components in industries dealing with pressurized fluids or gases, such as chemical manufacturing, energy production, and petrochemical processing. Little P.Eng. specializes in designing pressure vessels to safely withstand high internal or external pressures.

Key Aspects of Pressure Vessel Design by Little P.Eng.

a. Material Properties

Little P.Eng. engineers carefully select materials with the necessary strength and corrosion resistance to withstand the specific service conditions of pressure vessels.

b. Thickness Calculations

Calculations of vessel wall thickness are crucial to ensure structural integrity and safety under pressure. Little P.Eng. performs precise calculations to determine optimal thickness.

c. Welding and Fabrication

The welding and fabrication methods used in pressure vessel construction must meet rigorous standards. Little P.Eng. employs certified welding procedures to prevent defects and ensure vessel reliability.

d. Testing and Inspection

Pressure vessels undergo rigorous testing and inspection processes to verify their integrity. Little P.Eng. engineers conduct comprehensive testing to ensure vessels are safe for operation.

e. Code Compliance

Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant is well-versed in codes such as the ASME Boiler and Pressure Vessel Code. The firm ensures that all pressure vessel designs and constructions adhere to these codes and regulations.

Conclusion

Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant is a leading provider of engineering services that encompass material handling, seismic design, structural engineering, piping stress analysis, above-ground tank design, and pressure vessel design. The firm's unwavering commitment to excellence, safety, innovation, and regulatory compliance has earned it a reputation as a trusted partner in diverse industries.

With a dedicated team of experts and cutting-edge technology, Little P.Eng. delivers cost-effective solutions that prioritize safety, sustainability, and efficiency. Whether it's designing structures to withstand earthquakes or optimizing material handling systems, Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant stands at the forefront of engineering innovation, contributing to the development of safer, more resilient, and more productive industries worldwide.

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Engineering Services

Seismic Design

Piping Stress Analysis

Structural Engineering

Pressure Vessel Design

Material Selection

Regulatory Compliance

Little P.Eng. Engineering Consultant

Seismic Hazard Assessment

Structural Resilience

Engineering Innovation

Material Handling Engineering

Above-Ground Tank Design

Excellence in Engineering

Innovative Solutions

Safety Measures

Compliance with Codes

Structural Analysis

Automated Material Handling

Conveyor Systems

Warehouse Design

Packaging Equipment

Retrofitting and Rehabilitation

Load Analysis

Support Systems

Welding and Fabrication

Tank Sizing

Construction Methods

Pressure Vessel Testing

Welding Procedures

Engineering Services

Structural Engineering Consultancy

Pipe Stress Analysis Services

Located in Calgary, Alberta; Vancouver, BC; Toronto, Ontario; Edmonton, Alberta; Houston Texas; Torrance, California; El Segundo, CA; Manhattan Beach, CA; Concord, CA; We offer our engineering consultancy services across Canada and United States. Meena Rezkallah.

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constructionsafetynetwork · 4 months

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Handling Flammable Materials

In the dynamic world of construction, handling flammable materials safely is a critical concern. This article delves into why managing these substances with care is vital and how to do it effectively. Understanding and implementing these practices are essential for preventing accidents, ensuring worker safety, and maintaining a secure construction site. Understanding Flammable Materials In the…

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#construction industry standards #Construction Safety #construction site safety #emergency preparedness #fire extinguisher usage #fire safety #handling flammable materials #Hazard Communication #PPE in construction #risk management in construction #safe storage practices #safety protocols #Safety Training #ventilation in construction #Workplace Safety

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chemtrade · 1 year

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Mild Steel Chlorine Gas Cylinder Manufacturers

Looking for the Best Mild Steel Chlorine Gas Cylinder Manufacturers. Chemtrade International is a leading distributor of Mild Steel Chlorine Gas Cylinder, providing high-quality products and exceptional service to customers across industries.

#Chlorine Cylinder #Mild Steel Cylinder #Chlorine Gas #Gas Cylinder Safety #Cylinder Handling #Industrial Safety #Chemical Industry #Gas Storage #Pressure Vessel #Gas Handling #Hazardous Material #Safety First #Gas Storage Safety #Cylinder Maintenance #Corrosion Resistance #Industrial Gas Cylinder #Gas Cylinder Storage #Gas Cylinder Transportation #Safe Cylinder Handling

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Just hear me out,

Wild west outlaw König.

That's all ,please and thank you❤️

P.s I love love love your work and you inspire me so much more than words can express,so thank you so much

Wild West Outlaw König Headcanons

Warnings: Outlaw König, König Kills People, Obsessive König, König (DEEP) in Love, Looting, Kidnapping, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Dominant König, Submissive König, Mention of Ghost, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, my lovely ! Your kind words have touched my heart, and I hope your creative endeavours flourish <3

Man owns a pair of handcuffs and KNOWS how to use them.

Let’s work on the assumption that he kidnapped you.

Perhaps you were already partially romantically involved but your family would never let you marry someone like König, so he stages a robbery and takes you as part of the ransom.

One he has no intention of accepting any payment for because he’s never letting you go.

König’s monstrous proportions make it easy for him to physically overpower aggressors – other bandits, outlaws, authority figures.

However, he does pose something of a hazard to himself because there’s (much) more of him to hit.

Luckily, he’s straight out of a situation the minute it gets sticky – as if he just disappears into thin air.

Just one of the reasons why he’s called the Phantom Outlaw.

Not to be confused with Ghost, who is also an outlaw but never leaves a trace (or a witness), making his reputation far more ghoulish than König’s.

Though, König does excel in the fear factor, his sheer size and notoriety – his trenchcoat and mask the very visage of Death – forcing everyone who sees him to relinquish their goods in exchange for their lives.

Speaking of, König’s ability to swing thousands in cash makes for a happy home life, given how he spends much of his fortune on you.

Clothes, jewels, literature, instruments, automobiles: you name it, you’ve got at least a treasure trove of each.

Even if you try to resist these gifts, König refuses to let up.

“Can’t have my precious little Engel going without, can I ?”

So, in return, you typically handle all the chores, though König insists you don’t have to.

“It’s not like we can hire a maid to do it for us, can we ?” you tell him. “Especially not when there’s a handsome bounty on that even more handsome head of yours.”

Said bounty is what makes it difficult for the two of you to stay in one place for too long.

And whenever you move, you always try to make the house a safe space for König.

Blankets in his favourite chair, his favourite meal on the table for him whenever you know he’s going to have a rough day, a bit of fun before bed, etc.

You can tell whenever he feels really comfortable, because he takes up three quarters of the bed, just sprawled out like a rapidly growing infection.

And you always fit neatly against his side. Or on his chest.

König calls you his “Little bunny” (or “Bun-Bun”) because of how small you look when you’re nuzzled into his chest.

He never takes you, or anything you do, for granted.

You don’t know this (so keep this a secret between you and I) but König watches you when you sleep. More than you’d think.

Truth be told, the outlaw life terrifies him.

Sure, he has the swagger and the notoriety to make off with thousands in gold, jewels, and lavish material items, but, really, his greatest, most prized treasure is you.

There is only one of you. You cannot be bought, or replicated, or found in the wild like an ore of purest diamond.

Simply put, König’s success is entirely down to the fact that he can’t be caught lacking.

If he ever was to, he knows he’d lose you. Whether you’re taken by a stray bullet in a shoot-out or your town’s rangers come to tear you from his cold, lifeless grip, König takes every precaution to circumvent these tragedies by remaining the fastest hand in the west. And the most ruthless.

Even for an outlaw, his kill count is exceedingly high.

And it’s no coincidence that the numbers began to climb after he met you. Fell in love with you.

People who he’s seen giving you lecherous stares, or those he can sense have poor intentions, he’s taken them out the back and absolved the world of their presence.

And, at the end of every excursion, every execution, every haul, the weight of the world falls from König’s shoulders as he comes back to you.

He takes his mask down around you, hangs his hat upon the coat rack. You’re the only person who he shows his face to.

But, whenever you can tell a fragment of the day resides pinned in his mind, shrapnel of his self-inflicted lifestyle, you make sure to service him before bed.

How he likes to be serviced can change on a day-to-day basis. He’s not fussy.

The only thing that changes is whether he wants to be handled by you or if he wants to slam you into the pillows.

Possessive sex <333.

“Tell me you love me,” he rasps into your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his body, making escape an impossibility to you. “Tell me I’m the only one that will ever have you like this,”

As stated previously; he has a pair of handcuffs and knows how to use them.

Or, if they’re too far out of reach and he needs you bound now, he’ll use rope. Or even just his hands.

Eye contact. The whole time.

It’s as if a different person inhabits him when he gets like this; something dark and jagged, no mere demon, possesses his form. And, by extension, yours.

König’s not stopping until you’re full, he’s empty, and he’s confident you’re not leaving the house for the next few days.

But, when König is feeling fragile, he lets you take the lead.

Just lies back while you’re on top of him, calling him your “Good boy”, “my Prince”, “my protector,” – anything that reaffirms that he holds a great deal of importance in your life.

More often than not, he ends up with tears in his eyes.

Nobody has ever been so gentle and loving towards him as you have. And coupled with how you’re taking him slowly, taking the time to make sure you’re hitting all bases and he’s thoroughly loved, sends him over the edge.

Kiss his tears away and his soul leaves his body.

It’s times like these that, more than anything, König wants a simple life. A paroxysmal desire to lead an ordinary existence where the two of you can live together happily, without the threat of being chased out of town every few months.

And, maybe, one day, even have a family together.

Until then, König will continue to dream, to give you a lifestyle of sapphires and gold and every delicacy the human mind can conjure.

And whenever he looks at you before he leaves, he sees his good luck charm, the light at the end of his tunnel. And, most importantly, the embodiment of love itself.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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fawnpires · 1 year

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LOCKED AND LOADED. — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: ghost loves two things the most; you and his pistol, but there was nothing better than the two combined. (AKA - ghost fucks you with his pistol.)

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: gunplay, weapons, gun kink, slightly mean!ghost, oral sex (female receiving), pussy-slapping, dirty talk, edging, use of pet-names, mild degradation.

"You're fuckin' depraved you know that, don't you, sweetheart?"

His voice heavy of an accented tone sends a shock down your laid spine, your body quivering with tiny non-visible motions. The only lasting separation from your bareness and his lingering eyes were your bra and panties full of lace — with his difference, he had been fully clothed, draped in his military gear and tactical cloth considering his return from a month-lasting expedition a long couple of minutes ago. Through the front door and trudging towards your shared bedroom; your body laid already half-naked on the mattress — as if you in preparation for him — the view causing him to practically drop everything from his hold — duffel bags and a few of his more heavier rifles.

In the band of the utility belt, only a single rifle and a pocket of ammo to it — which is how you ended up with his much more towering, heavier frame suspending over you; the muzzle of said pistol to your clothed cunt, circulating in small and sensual gestures. He squints his eyes at how your panties leave a stain where the gun traces, a smirk pressed to his lips at the sight from underneath the skull of his mask.

"Gettin' off on my gun, huh?" he rasps to your ear, "You take anythin' I fuck you with, don't you, love?"

Your thrown-back head lifts itself from the pillow, staring right into the sockets of the mask. "Mmhm — waited so long for you, missed you s'much."

"I know, baby, I know," he said while his free-hand caresses the flesh of your clammy stomach, "Missed you too. Couldn't stop thinkin' about you and this pretty pussy." his eyes drift to your stimulated cunt, the confines of his tactical jeans growing tighter at the erection that bulges through the material.

"Please!" you whine, "Fuck. I need you so bad, can't wait anymore, Simon."

His edging maneuvers latch onto you, but they just weren't enough to your liking. For the duration of his absence away from you, you had craved more than just a gun running at the exterior of your cunt; some fleshy, physical portion of his body — not just the solid metal of a weapon running into you. It had just seemed to lack your needs — not to be demanding, but there had just been some missing addition that would peak up to your arousal. Your bottom lip was teared from the constant bite of your top teeth, nearly broken of the skin at the repeated sensations at the front of your panties; needy hips grind against your only source of pleasure, the muzzle of the unpredicted pistol — it could've been loaded, a hazard to your safety, or unloaded due to the amount of care that Ghost holds for you.

"Don't worry, sweet girl," he straightens himself back up and holds his stance between your bare legs which he spreads for you, resting them at both sides of his kneeled figure. "Won't torture you that much."

Your mind is left to ponder at his phrase, slightly curious and wanting to poke more at the topic of 'torture' he has in mind.

With his pistol still clutched at the handle in his right hand, he puts his left hand to use and wraps his fingers to the waistband of your panties, tugging at the elastic before slowly ragging it down your thighs. From your knees, and down to pool at your ankles until they were eventually shrugged off to be abandoned somewhere on the floorboards of the bedroom's ground; you were almost unconditionally bare, minus the lace of your bra cushioning your breasts that were nearly spilling out from the position the man above held you captive in.

The embarrassment of your cunt stripped of its fabric finally hits you, causing you to press your thighs together in an attempt to give some shielded cover. It had possibly been the span of time he had left you all alone but his usual superior disposition had left you a bit intimidated, meek to his eyes. He strips himself of his tactical jacket, then the black of his thinned shirt — somewhat equivalently bare to you.

"What'cha hiding from, baby?" he aims the point of the gun to one of your thighs, one hand brushing to a single side of your waist. "Seen you naked so many times for me, no reason to be so shy."

His words label an impact on you — warming up to his characteristic nature and steadily parting your legs wider for him, situating them back to the sides of himself. He can't help but bring himself to smirk at the act, pinning the bottom of his balaclava to the end of his nose and folding the blemished material for it to stay in place. "That's a good girl, openin' all up for me. Just like how she always has." he praises, his hand no longer at your waist but brought down to between your thighs — landing a flattened slap on the puffy lips of your glossy cunt.

Your body jerks at the impact, vibrations sent straight to your stimulated clit as a muted whine draws from your throat. You feel yourself pulsating from the cruel action, just about swollen and pigmented red. Ghost elicits a shallow, stifled chuckle at the reaction in which he extracts from you; directing the muzzle of his forgotten pistol to your cunt, nudging at the lips and placing it still there — no movements, motionless in place. Body engulfed in shame, yet you left yourself to do the disgraceful; revolving your hips at the muzzle, grinding onto the object much like the first time he set it into place — only more needier, more faster and desperate in each circular move. A shiver comes down onto your body at the cold of the firearm, but immediately warming up once the metal bumps at your swollen clit.

"Are you going to take this, huh?" Ghost graces your ears with the inquiry, watching as you hump yourself against his gun, slick drooling down the muzzle and all the way to the barrel — glistening and shined down to each portion of the weapon. He reaches a hand to your face, his large palm fondling at your features with fingers kneading into the skin. "You gonna let me fuck you with my gun, baby?"

"I- I dunno," you whine out, loudly and more extended, "but, Simon-"

"C'mon, don't be like that," he said, grim in tone, "don't'cha wanna be my good girl like always? Takin' what's given to her?"

You gasp as he presses the the gun further against you, prodding right at your clit; the new sensation of cold, hard metal causing your lips to part and your body to instinctually press yourself harder on it. Your left no choice but to nod swiftly — the only way you could really get further into the pleasure he edges you with. He feels his lips curve into a small grin, the grasp on the handle of the gun tightening.

He doesn't hold himself back anymore, no boundaries to stop him from slowly pumping the cooled pistol into the entrance of your drippy cunt. Your breath hitches, body squirming as one of his hands is pressed down onto one side of your waist; preventing you from breaking free of the stimulation. A shattered sound — something between a squeal and a moan — forces from your mouth at the operation of insertion. Your back arches, body tensed and moderately uncomfortable; still getting used to the feeling of a literal gun being shoved into your cunt.

"There you go," he said, eyes widening at the sight in which he gives power to. The abnormally loud squelching of your cunt while taking his gun and the released whines of your mouth were placing him into a personal paradise. "See? I knew you could do it, honey. Just for me."

Your body no longer writhes under the gun when it is at the limit which you can only take it in; right to the bottom of the barrel, slick painting the material.

"M' gonna start moving now, stay still for me honey. Just like this." he warns, leisurely pulling the weapon out of you before thrusting it back in a more quicker maneuver. Your hips lift themselves before being pushed back down into the mattress with the hand at your waist, a whimper pulling from past the teeth and tongue. "Love this slutty pussy s'much, sweetheart, you likin' this?" he questions, "You like — no, — love bein' this much of a slut for my gun?"

Through the continuous whines and towed moans, you can only manage a non-verbal response — another agreement from the nod of your head. He only grins, leaning down to your face to press a sloppy kiss to your forehead, kissing down the soft expanse of your chest and stomach before settling where his gun quickens in pace at your cunt, a delicate kiss from his lips places at your clit. The object pumps up into you more quickly now but is joined with his tongue giving one long, wet stripe up your lips past the gun. A high-pitched moan is plucked at the new sensitivity, back curved off the creaking bed, hips bucking and pressed down onto his face.

"Simon, fuck!" you moan, nearly coming out in a scream.

He smirks against your cunt, surrounding his lips around your clit and sucking on the bud. Ghost continues to thrust his gun into you, the rate of it violent and in carnal. With the supplement of both his pistol and mouth at your cunt, your mind is invaded of a stupefying cloud of haze. The muscle of his tongue repeats long, prolonged stripes at your puffy lips; occasionally putting time into lapping at your clit. Your brows furrow, collecting beads of created sweat as your chest rises with each heavy breath you take.

"Doin' so good for me, pretty thing." Ghost murmurs, his fingers wrapped at the handle for more leverage and pounding his gun to the warmth of your walls with that same violent pace.

His saliva coats your inner thighs, as well as the thrusting pistol; piling with the surface of your slick. Drool dribbles down the structure of his chin, using his utmost stamina to put strength into both fucking you with his gun and tongue. Your vision is blurred of tears, head in spirals while your left to leave your mouth expanded — no longer giving attempts to even muffle any of your noises, or suppressing right at your throat. An organization of heat begins to birth in your abdomen, threatening to spill of itself any second; any move of either his tongue or gun would be the root of that release.

"S'close, Simon!"

"Go on, then, love." his eyes flow to arching anatomy then to your fucked-out face, "I know how badly you were waitin' for me to come home, take care of this achy lil' cunt of yours," he cooed, "Want you to make a mess of my gun, of me."

The hastened blend of a pistol and his tongue vitalizing your cunt was enough for your head to be fully sent into a stage of dumbification and the birthed heat at your abdomen to be overturned; streams of rapture flood every crevice of your body as you gushed all over both the the gun and his tongue, covering both parties. The hand at your waist caresses your skin in gentle gestures, one last press of his lips to your clit before he lifts himself up — his mouth left to hang open, catching breaths. His gun positions still inside you for a minute longer before you feel the now-warmed metal of it being withdrawn from your sticky cunt.

When it's pulled out from you, almost the entire thing was submerged in your arousal; the liquid glinting from the illuminance of the bed-side table lamp. Your head leans up the pillow, staring at the stained object; then to him, with his alluring lips now smeared of all you.

"Shit, baby," he breathes, words ending in a chuckle while he stares down the slick-painted weapon, "You really did stain my pistol."

You dumbly smile up at him through your remaining orgasm, all lips, no teeth. "Don't you want a reminder of me when you're away?"

"Yeah," he replied, moving to your side and "and you were so desperate to make it happen."

You bite at the fleshy wall of your cheek with tearing teeth, more warmth rising to your face at his statement.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing, honey," he confirms while taking note of the silence you leave, bending himself down and caging you in with his body and two arms; one holding the pistol right above your head. His lips press to yours in a deepened, messy kiss before smaller ones are peppered to your face in comfort. "I like when you're desperate anyways, you get all pretty and fucked out."

#. ˚ ʚ — ꒰ simon riley. ꒱#simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x female reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #drabble #female reader #.୨୧ fawnpires

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companionjones · 1 year

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The Beginning of Us (1/5)

Pairing: 36!Joel Miller x 23!Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Last of Us (could be applied to the video game or TV show)

Summary: You get new neighbours. One of them, a man very much your senior, might just be the most perfect man you have ever met. Where will this take you?

Warnings: Age gap, cursing, eventual smut

Author’s Note: Hi. Have you heard of @dbnightingale24? If you haven’t, I highly recommend checking out her page, especially if you’re into Chris Evans and the characters that he plays. She is an amazing individual, inside and out. I would not be posting this story without her much-needed help and support. She even came up with the title! Thank you so much. Happy reading!

(1/2/3/4/5)

*******

What got your attention was a loud and gruff “Shit!” and the sound of a box tumbling down the staircase in your apartment building.

You got off your couch and went to your door to see what was the matter. Opening it, you saw a girl disappearing into the apartment across the hall from yours, and another girl, slightly older than the one before, following her into the same space.

“Howdy stranger! We’re your new neighbours!” The girl still within your sight let you know. She then followed in the other girl’s footsteps in disappearing behind the door in front of you.

There was a man at the end of the hall, you noticed. He had his eyes peering down the staircase, but then he turned his vision toward you. “Hello,” he greeted and started to approach you with the two boxes he was carrying, “My name’s Tommy. Sorry if we were disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” you assured. “Are you and your daughters moving in?”

Tommy smiled as he shook his head. “Oh, no. I couldn’t handle those two 24/7. Those are my brother’s girls, Sarah and Ellie. Joel?” He called down the stairs.

Leaning into the hallway, you spotted a man one flight down, putting books into a cardboard box. Seeing that Tommy already had his hands full, you went down to help the aforementioned ‘Joel.’

Apparently, he didn’t notice you until you were knelt on the floor with him, helping him gather the books. You looked up the same time as he did, and the two of you locked eyes for the first time.

Joel had the deepest brown eyes you had ever seen in your life.

You gave him a shy smile, which Joel returned quickly, and you asked, “You didn’t go down with these books, did you?”

He must’ve said no, but you didn’t hear him because you were taking notice of the books. They were all war related, more specifically World War II. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the material.

“What?” he wondered with a smirk.

You shook your head. “Nothing. It’s just very on brand for a father like you to have books like these, no offence.”

Joel smiled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told you; nothing,” you teased.

“Right…” he chuckled, and the two of you finished gathering the books.

Moving everything in took the rest of the day, and it was night by the time everything was out of the U-Haul and into the Millers’ apartment.

“Finally!” Ellie celebrated, “Let’s have more pizza!”

Tommy groaned, “Seriously? You already had it for breakfast today.”

“Come on, I’m hungry too!” Sarah complained, and the next thing you knew, Joel was ordering over the phone.

Tommy (reluctantly) offered to pick it up, and you said you’d stay back with Joel to start on the organisation of things.

“You really don’t have to stay,” Joel told you while Tommy and the girls were on their way out.

“Really, no offence Joel, but this place is a hazardous zone. I’m going to stay until there is at least a feasible way to get from room to room.” You were glancing around the space until you looked back at Joel. He was looking at you with a soft gaze that honestly made your heart flutter.

Joel softly let you know, “Help like yours…it’s extremely hard to come by these days.”

“You get it from Tommy, right?” you wondered.

He shrugged, “I do…Really, I do, but it’s not the same. He’s my younger brother, y’know? Half the time, it feels like I’m helping him way more than he’s helping me.”

“That makes sense,” you nodded, then took a chance and pressed on, “...Is it alright if I ask what happened to the girls’ mother?”

Joel nodded, “It’s alright. It all happened some time ago…Sarah’s mother left…five years ago now…? And Ellie’s mother, well…she died in childbirth.”

“Oh my god…Joel, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”

“It’s alright. It happened a long time ago.” Surprisingly, Joel chuckled. He was looking right at you.

You grew self-conscious. “What?”

“You didn’t say, ‘I’m sorry,’” he pointed out.

“Oh. Oh my god. I’m sor–” you tried correcting.

Joel cut you off, however. “No, it’s fine. I promise. It’s just…whenever I tell someone about the girls’ mothers, they take pity on me and say sorry. It got a little annoying after a while.”

“I would think so,” you relayed softly.

Not wanting an awkward silence after that conversation, you turned on your phone. “...Now, I don’t know about you, but I can’t keep doing this work without any music. There we go.” You turned on your playlist and put your phone down on the entertainment centre.

Joel seemed surprised. “80s? Seriously?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Miller?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that. It makes me feel old.”

You chuckled. “Okay, Joel it is.”

Tommy and the girls came back with the pizza sooner than you expected. Sarah and Ellie were whispering and giggling about something that you could tell Tommy had been over with for a while. The girls shared another look when you sat next to Joel on the couch, and Tommy just rolled his eyes at them. You tried not to think about what that could mean.

The five of you watched a movie as you ate dinner, and Tommy was quick to leave after it was over. It almost felt too quick.

The girls didn’t waste time either.

“I’m exhausted!” Sarah yawned.

Ellie joined in, “Me too. I think we’re gonna head to bed, Dad. That alright with you?”

Joel was just as taken aback as you were. “Yeah. I guess so—”

“Okay. Goodnight!”

“Thanks for coming over, Y/n!”

Sarah and Ellie almost ran to their newly-set-up rooms.

“What was that all about?” you wondered out loud to Joel.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But it’s not all the time that Tommy is let in on their antics.”

You chuckled, “Well, anyway, I think that’s my cue to go home. Lord knows it’s late enough.”

Joel followed you out into the hallway. “I really do appreciate your help, Y/n.”

You did your best to copy him. “It really was no problem Mist--Joel,” you corrected yourself.

Joel had been leaning against his door frame, but he took a step forward, which all but closed the space between the two of you.

The movement caused you to silently gasp, and you were so shocked that you barely got a hold of yourself in time for when Joel started leaning down--

“Joel, I’m 20,” you got out just before his lips would’ve touched yours.

Of course, Joel backed up. “Oh. Oh my god. Y/n, I am so sorry for putting you in that position–”

“You didn’t put me in any position. I should’ve told you earlier–”

“When? I didn’t ask. Shit, I didn’t ask. I just assumed ‘cause you’re living alone–”

“I know. I know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Joel. Okay?” You reached out and put a hand on his arm. Then, you realised what you were doing, and took your hand away. “I-I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight.”

The last thing you saw were his shame-filled eyes as you closed your door.

(1/2/3/4/5)

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#joel miller #sarah miller #ellie williams #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader age gap #the beginning of us #troy baker #ashley johnson #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #nico parker #companion jones

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fatehbaz · 9 months

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Seventy-five years after two nuclear bombs were dropped on Japan — killing hundreds of thousands of people in the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki — one small community in the Northwest Territories is still haunted by its connection to the blasts. Across Great Bear Lake from the 533-person hamlet of Délı̨nę sits the historic mining site of Port Radium. [...] [T]he Canadian government quietly called for uranium production as part of the country's involvement in the Manhattan Project. That uranium was sent south to help the United States with the race to build a nuclear bomb. [...] [N]ear Great Bear Lake, workers would eventually wonder about the risks they took delivering sacks of ore on their backs as they sent it south — without being told what they were about to be complicit in. [...] Days after the blasts, the Canadian government announced the country's role in the explosions, citing the Great Bear Lake mine's uranium as a key ingredient for the project, said Geoffrey Bird, a professor at Royal Roads University in Victoria who studies tourism and the history of remembrance. An English-language sign connecting Port Radium to the atomic bomb was photographed in Délı̨nę in December 1945. [...] While the Canadian government hasn't apologized to Délı̨nę, the community has apologized to Japan. [...] Locals in Délı̨nę say many ore workers and their family members developed cancer later in life. [...] In the book If Only We Had Known, which tells the story of Port Radium from the eyes of the Sahtúot'ine, elders remember workers' clothing covered with dust, windy days when ore was caught up in the air and children playing games in mine tailings.

Text by: Katie Toth. “Spectre of atomic bomb still looms over N.W.T. community 75 years after Hiroshima.” CBC News. 5 August 2020.

---

[O]n 6 August 1998, 10 members of the small Sahtugot’ine Dene community of Deline (Fort Franklin) in the ‘Northwest Territories’ apologized in Hiroshima for the atomic destruction of that city – and the death of over 200,000 civilians – exactly 53 years earlier [...]. Eldorado Gold Mines Ltd. [was] placed under state control during World War Two. They [the Dene] were allowed only to help it [uranium] on its long and winding way, 3,000 miles by river, lake, road and air, from Port Radium on Great Bear Lake to Port Hope on Lake Ontario, where, from 1942-45, the suddenly precious ore – the ‘new gold’ of the atomic age – was, together with ‘Belgian’ uranium from the Congo, refined and dispatched to Los Alamos, the desert lab in New Mexico secretly building the new, city-smashing Superweapon. [...] Beginning in the 1970s, and spiking sharply in the 1980s, many of the men who had handled and carried the ore – and the men who had mined it – began to die from cancer [...]. The “Dene,” the CBC ‘revealed,’ “were never told of the health hazards they faced, even though the government knew … as early as 1932 that precautions should be taken in handling radioactive materials”. Instead [...] “workers [were] dressed in casual clothes and uranium dust [...] covered the men like flour.” [...] [A]s detailed in a December 1998 article [...] in First Nations Drum: [...] [T]he mine was kept running at a very high pace [...]. The Dene were employed as ‘coolies’ packing 45-kilogram sacks of radioactive ore for three dollars a day, working 12 hours a day, six days a week. This at a time when the ore was worth over $70,000 a gram. [...] In 1998, the Déline Dene Band Uranium Committee released a 160-page [...] report, “They Never Told Us These Things.” In a 2011 article in Maisonneuve, Salverson recounts a community meeting in Deline to discuss the report, “where [non-Dene] lawyers delivered a year’s worth of uranium-impact research from the archives in Ottawa,” revealing that in “the mountain of papers we dug up … there is not one mention of the Dene, your people.”

Text by: Sean Howard. “Canada’s Uranium Highway: Victims and Perpetrators.” Cape Breton Spectator. 7 August 2019.

#because of the movie about oppo and making of the bomb #port radium ultimately mined over 13 million pounds of uranium #ecology #landscape #abolition #colonial #imperial

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magnolia-among-the-stars · 11 months

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Undrunk [hangman PT. 7/12]

PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: 18+ Smut ahead!

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

Want to be added to the tag list for this character, all stories or another character? let me know here :)

PLOT: Penny Benjamin's niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

A growl rasps through the man in front of you and the delicious pinch of the flesh on your hips tightens. Jake punctuates his words with nips along your jaw, his perfect teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I won’t be able to stop myself. I won’t be able to come back from this,” he admits heavily, his voice dripping with desire in your ear.

“Fuck me,” you breath, rutting against his hips under the glow of the streetlamp. And just like that, the crumbling dam breaks. Jake’s hands are gone from your waist, now a vice grip on your wrists as he all but drags you down the streets of North Island until you can see his truck parked in front of your home. As you slide through the gate with a rapid haste, you can’t help but yank the broad man against your front. Your back slams against the metal of the truck door, handle digging into your shoulder blade as you kiss passionately.

Making out for a moment, Jake’s fingertips slip passed the lacy material of your skirt until he’s skimming along your warmth. A loud, high pitched whine bubbles out of your glossy, swollen lips as he begins rubbing slow circles over your clothed bundle of nerves. Your skin is on fire, thighs cramping as you try to spread further to allow his touch. You moan against his mouth, oblivious to the notion that here you are – being nearly finger fucked in your driveway for your neighbors’ viewing.

The thought finally breaks your dazed mind, shattering your reality as you pull back from him. Your chest is rising hazardously as you press against him for some distance. His motions stop immediately, blazing green eyes searching your face for signs of mistrust or horror. “Inside,” you breath out, “We need to go.” You swallow down a shaky breath when the crease between his brows dissipates.

Jake follows you up the path, up the stairs to your porch and you can feel his heat against your back as he waits as patiently as possible for you to key the door open. It takes seconds but feels like forever until you finally turn the doorknob and shove the door open. You spin quickly, wrapping yourself around the pilot as he pushes you against the door. The weight of your bodies slamming it shut as you again kiss each other with a fervor, mouths moving rapidly as your fingertips begin to unbutton his shirt.

The material is ripped from his waistline and dragged off his perfect body as he shoves the pure white from your hips to expose your supple thighs. His nails scrap gently along the skin as he rubs up and down, mouth devouring yours as you shove the cotton down his bulging arms. His torso is toned, his abs marbled perfection as you begin to press your lips along each section of his skin in admiration.

“Lift your arms,” he groans against your collarbone, and you follow Jake’s command, raising your arms to allow for him to tug your dress from your body. When he gets the material over your hair, he can’t help but let his jaw go slack. You’d forgone a bra tonight, the tight sculpting of the dress you wore enough of a support to not need a dreaded extra piece of material.

His eyes are trailing along the exposed skin of your breasts and the world stands still. “You’re fuckin’ perfect,” Jake murmurs before he goes to work, suckling one plush nipple between his lips. Your fingertips comb through his short and fluffy blond locks, nails scratching along his scalp aggressively as pleasure washes over you.

You press your knee forward, connecting between his legs to graze his growing length trapped beneath his black jeans. Against your naked thigh, you can feel the stretch and tightening fabric against his bulge as you begin to press further and further into him until he can’t take it. His mouth pops as he pulls away from your swollen bud, hand coming up to twist and tug your other nipple.

At his straightened height, you can pop the button on his jeans and snake your hand beneath the fabric to graze along his thick length. Another groan escapes his mouth as his forehead nuzzles into the column of your neck. Jake begins sucking on the skin there, distracting himself as your hand squeezes him and begins to nudge his tight jeans down passed his ass.

“Fuck Sunshine,” his voice is deeper than you’d ever heard it and you feel the wetness between your thighs, beneath the silky fabric of your panties. You shove against his chest again and he cups the back of your neck, heaving you along with him until the back of his knees touch the soft fabric of the couch. He falls back, quickly tugging his jeans and briefs down to his ankles to reveal the entirety of him.

Your mouth runs dry, the length of him delectable and throbbing. His head is a swollen red, begging to be touched; to be relieved as he is wound too tight. “See something you like?” his teasing tone pulls you from your daze and you lean down to take him in your mouth. “Uh uh,” Jake’s voice stops you, fingers twining in your curly locks as you climb on his lap.

“Not interested in head?” you crack, a wide grin washing over you as you settle onto his thighs. His length is at the perfect angle against your clothed core, and you can feel the dripping of your wetness. “Didn’t take you as the type.”

“There’s nothing more I’d love to do than fuck your pretty little mouth,” Jake seethes against your bottom lip, tongue grazing. “But I need to feel your wet cunt before I nut like a teenager on their first date.”

“I’m honored I can bring you to your knees so easily,” you kiss him fiercely, hips grinding against him for more friction. He bucks up against you without control, grunting at the contact. He kisses you back with an aggression that caused shivers to run up your spine. His strong hands clench the sides of your flimsy underwear, giving it one strong pull as the ripping sound fills your living room.

You didn’t think that the feeling of him rubbing against your bare cunt could cause stars to appear in your eyes, but you’d never fucked Jake Seresin before. You whimper at the feeling, rising up slightly so that Jake can pump himself a few times, his cock sliding between your soaked lips with ease. “Who goes easily on their knees?” he taunts, as his head swirls along your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you gaze down into his eyes. He looks so soft and yet so devious in the same breath, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It’s like all your nerves are on fire as you beg again. “Please fuck me, Jake.” And it’s the vulnerability in your voice, the quiver of your lip that should’ve pulled Jake away. Should’ve been the indication that he should stop this, that he shouldn’t take this step and ruin all you both had worked toward.

This eating guilt rang one final alarm in the back of his mind before taking out the batteries and laying silent. The eating guilt that told him he wasn’t enough for you, that he wasn’t the man you deserved.

But Jake Seresin was weak. And so, he pushed his cock up into your entrance with the ease of greeting an old lover, up against your g spot as you meet his hips. You sink down on him with a light moan, your mouth opening as he stretched you out. You pause momentarily as you hit hilt, letting the feeling of fullness wash over you as your hot breath mixes together with his. It feels like heaven.

“You alright,” he peppers kisses along your collarbone as you adjust to the feeling of him, the sweet pressure between your legs soothing as you begin to rock slowly.

“Uh huh,” the noise the only thing falling off your lips as you begin to move against each other deeply, chasing a blooming pleasure within your stomach. You ride him with intention, hands gripping the back of the couch to set a rapid pace.

“God, you feel like heaven,” Jake grunts, pushing up to meet your intensifying movements as waves of pleasure continue to roll straight to your core. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He cups your cheek as he stares up at you, the goddess you are. His green eyes are sparkling, hooded as he nears completion too early in the night as his thumb pulls at your bottom lip.

You don’t think about it, sucking his digit into your mouth slowly and swirling your tongue around it while you fuck him. When he feels satisfied with your work, he pulls away and his hand comes between your legs to rub along your clit to help you finish. Loud moans and slapping skin fill the space as the coil in your tummy finally snaps and you’re falling over the edge.

He picks up the pace for you, rolling you both so that his left foot grazes along the floor. Jake begins to drill into you with tension, his hips whispering a magic unknown as he works you through your orgasm and driving deeper into your cunt. “Fuck, you feel so good Sunshine,” he grunts as he pulls on of your legs over his shoulder, pumping himself in and out of your wetness as your eyes fall shut in an afterglow of pleasure.

You look beautiful, taking him so well and it doesn’t take long for him to finish, pulling out just in time to finish on your thigh as his hand takes over. His forearm is flexing when you open your eyes, and your fingertips wrap around his cock to drain him. A stream of cum paints your skin as he moans and grunts, until your hand slows and his fingertips cease your movements.

Jake’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he calms his heartrate. You take a few deep breaths too, sweaty body shivering from the AC air blowing on your sweaty skin. “Well, that was hot,” you say slowly, leaning up on your elbows to stare up at him. Jake grins, a naughty gaze still present as he pumps himself, leaning down to tug off his briefs and wiping his seed from your skin.

He tosses the material across the room slightly and wraps his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing a few times. He’s already half hard again and his other hand is beginning to tickle up your thigh. You jump when his fingertips slide through your soaking wet folds, nerves ablaze as he lays himself between your thighs. “Think you could cum again Sunshine?” he laps at your juices, humming against you. “Want to watch you fall apart on my tongue.”

You eventually make your way to your bedroom and between the sheets, wrapped up in one another so deeply that you were unsure you were on Earth anymore. You fall asleep in a naked heap, glowing and sweaty in the early hours of the morning.

When you wake up, hours later to the blinding sun seeping in through the curtains, you moan in delight. Stretching slightly, your hand skims across the mattress looking for the warmth of your lover but your fingertips come up empty. “Morning,” you groan, eyes peeling open to see an empty spot beside you. A pang of pain runs through your chest but you hold it down, wrapping the sheet along your torso as you sit up in the quiet of your bedroom.

Jake must be in the bathroom, you think to yourself, calming your nerves as you groggily rise from the bed and make your way down the hall. Only to notice the bathroom door open, empty. The same with the kitchen. It isn’t until you peer out your window that a sob racks through your body, your empty driveway staring back at you.

You wheeze, your breath leaving your body as insecurity rolls in waves down on top of you. He’d left. Jake had done the deed and ditched, not even bothering to leave a note – something you would spend all day looking for. He wouldn’t send a text, wouldn’t give you a call. He’d taken all you had and left you broken in his wake, sobbing against your front door in the quick aftermath of the Halloween night.

A/N: My deepest apologies for the trauma of this ending! We needed to ruffle some feathers and cause some pain...Jake's not the best partner yet!

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@ceilingfann

@rosiahills22

@child-of-sunshine

@callsign-scully

@hopefulinlove

@cevans-winchester

@double-j

@blue-aconite

@callsign-hummingbird

@romanoff13-blog-BLOG

@rosiahills22

@kajjaka

@sylviaes99

@chaoticassidy

@child-of-of-the-sunshine

@memoriesat30

@seresinsweetie

@genius2050

@mayhemmanaged

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin smut #top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #hangman imagine

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aidgc2023 · 11 days

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Exploring Toxic and Infectious Substances: Understanding Health and Safety

Introduction to Toxic and Infectious Substances:

Define what toxic and infectious substances are.

Explain the difference between the two.

Examples of Toxic Substances:

Chemicals found in household products (cleaning agents, pesticides, etc.).

Hazardous materials like lead, mercury, arsenic, etc.

Discuss how these substances can enter the body (ingestion, inhalation, absorption through the skin).

Effects of Toxic Substances:

Short-term effects (nausea, headache, dizziness).

Long-term effects (organ damage, cancer, neurological disorders).

Prevention and Safety Measures:

Proper storage and handling of toxic substances.

Use of protective gear (gloves, masks) when handling toxic materials.

Importance of reading labels and following instructions.

Introduction to Infectious Substances:

Define what infectious substances are (viruses, bacteria, fungi, parasites).

Discuss how infectious diseases spread (direct contact, airborne transmission, contaminated food/water).

Examples of Infectious Diseases:

Common cold and flu.

Foodborne illnesses (Salmonella, E. coli).

Vector-borne diseases (Malaria, Zika).

Effects of Infectious Diseases:

Symptoms (fever, cough, fatigue).

Complications (pneumonia, dehydration, organ failure).

Prevention and Safety Measures:

Personal hygiene practices (handwashing, covering mouth when coughing/sneezing).

Vaccination.

Avoiding contact with sick individuals.

Q&A Session:

Encourage students to ask questions about anything they didn't understand or want to learn more about.

Review and Summary:

Recap key points discussed during the lesson.

Emphasize the importance of being aware of toxic and infectious substances for their own safety and well-being.

Throughout the lesson, use interactive methods such as demonstrations, videos, and group discussions to engage the students and reinforce learning. It's also essential to tailor the content to the students' age level and ensure that the information is presented in a clear and understandable manner.

#dangerous goods consultants #hazardous materials management #hazardous materials safety #handling dangerous goods #toxic and infectious substances

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inaflashimagine · 7 months

Note

Did someone say a Nagumo fic? I would like to see it 🤲🏽

ask and you shall receive (pasting 2k below bc i'm unhinged)

–

You’re considering poisoning the vice principal of JCC.

It’s still in the planning phase, of course. But the true challenge, if this impossible task were to ever be achieved, would lie in the execution portion. Before leaving the airtight rooms of the laboratories, all students in the poisons department must properly discard any concoctions they’ve made in the fume hood (and any other chemicals that require extra care in their disposal are handled by the 24/7 toxic waste team). As many faculty in the department often repeat during their classes, the greatest poisons a student could ever make are arrogance and ignorance. For that reason alone, anything made for off-campus assignments is safely stored by lab managers in the school’s securely locked freezer until they must be given out.

Not to mention that every poisons professor also practices their due diligence by constantly updating the school chemicals inventory, which includes keeping track of the approved materials and poison recipes that students can take out of an extensive library of hazardous reagents, toxic substances, and highly coveted venoms.

That doesn’t mean that students haven’t tried to outsmart faculty or find a loophole in the system. Third-year Tanaka Kaito thought sneaking out with the tiny glass bottle containing his newest poison inside his mouth was a smart choice; and it might’ve been, if he hadn’t tripped over the lab assistant’s foot, which, coincidentally, happened to be in his way. Peers smarter than him have managed to avoid ruptured intestines or chemically burnt mouths, but considering these individuals–of which there are many–still fail and end up being expelled, stealing such precious items is not a risk many in your department are willing to take.

You understand the delicate position JCC is placed in when students break the institutional rules; since the JAA requires any poisons that are used by assassins or during non-educative assignments to be manufactured by those with a toxicology license, it makes sense that the JCC would adopt the most stringent guidelines to avoid a bad reputation.

Still. It doesn’t hurt to dream–or at least, you can’t get expelled for wishful thinking.

Besides, you have to find some way to pass the time in this dreadful class.

“Who are you thinking about killing this time?”

You blink, your eyes falling on the person who interrupted your delusions. The one who makes this class even more agonizing than should be tolerable.

“What makes you think I want to kill someone?” Flipping over the pages of your notebook to a blank one, you begin to scribble today’s course topic and can’t help but note the irony of you desperately wanting Ito-sensei to enter the room so he can start your least favorite class.

The Art of Espionage: For Intermediate Learners

From your periphery, you can see your dark-haired classmate leaning back into his desk chair as he deftly twirls a pocket knife in his hand, unfazed that all of his weight is balanced by one precious metal leg. He laughs lightly at your question, but it’s difficult to catch any mirth that follows it. “I always assumed only assassins carry bloodlust, but you proved me wrong. Though I guess I should’ve seen it coming.” His smile widens, a hint of smugness tugging the corner of his lips as he points the blade toward you like he’s just pointing a finger in your direction and not a potentially lethal weapon. “The ones in the poisons department do love holding grudges.”

You don’t know what others see in Nagumo. Sure, he’s objectively attractive–it would be stupid to argue that fact, and you’re not blind. And yeah, he’s one of the top second-year candidates in the intelligence-gathering department (though there are rumors of him wanting to transfer to the assassin program)–that’s not a surprise for someone who comes from a prominent family of spies, even if it is quite funny that the tidbit is well-known despite everything else about him being shrouded in the largest cloud of mystery…

…but any of those appealing characteristics seem to be thrown out the window the moment he begins to talk. And boy, does he talk.

“See, if I didn’t know any better,” he speaks up, yet again, eyes closed into half crescents as he cheerily jokes, “that annoyed look on your face says you wanna kill me!”

“Well, if you must know, you’re the third on the list. The first person is the vice principal for not switching me into another class.”

Each semester all JCC students must enroll in one class that falls outside the curriculum for their major. This is to ensure that their graduates are competent in all skills that they may need to succeed on the field or in the lab, even if it is unlikely they’d employ every skill on a daily basis. Since the best assassins, spies, weapons makers, and poison experts in the world are adept at rapidly adapting to different situations, it makes sense that the JCC would implement such a rule for their students. But that doesn’t mean you have to enjoy following said rules.

Your first semester at JCC wasn’t too bad. Technically, only third years can matriculate in poisoning classes–though there are a few introductory courses and practicums you can take starting your second year–so you’ve grown well accustomed to enrolling in classes that are beyond the usual chemistry and physics gambit. And since all students are allowed to rank their top choice electives, you were fortunate enough to get the History of Weapon Craft and Creation (considered one of the easier electives for those outside the weapons fabrication department).

The semester after, you barely passed Firearm Handling & Defensive Training, but at least that class improved your aim with the laser guns in the cafeteria, meaning getting less of those horrid JCC bowls. Yet your luck quickly ran out at the start of the second year, as this semester you now find yourself to be the only poisons department student in a room filled with good-looking, downright intimidating, and incredibly sharp intelligence-gathering students.

You have no idea how you were even allowed to take a class with prerequisites that are nested in the intelligence-gathering department, but your grievances fell on the deaf ears of administrative staff who didn’t even apologize for the scheduling mishap. (Then again, these are the same people who don’t bat an eye when students in the assassin department are gravely injured and even die during an assignment or in the middle of class. It’s no shocker that the second-year class size has considerably dwindled from last year.)

With all other courses being full, your choice was to stick to this option or switch to Martial Arts & Tactical Hand-to-Hand Combat for Advanced Learners. Even if you can’t avoid your fear of looking like an idiot in front of Japan’s future spies, you can at least evade the terror of literally dying by the hands of the country’s strongest assassins-in-training (you heard Sakamoto Taro was a killing machine, a fact you would be happy to simply believe rather than test out for yourself).

However, your earlier fears have now evolved into a living nightmare after Ito-sensei announced that everyone would be assigned a partner to work on assignments together throughout the semester. You didn’t know who Nagumo was until your roommate Aimi gasped at the mere mention of him (which isn't even his full legal name! What is he, Prince?). Banging your head against the wall might be a more pleasant experience than having to hear her complain–for the umpteenth time–that you get to learn from such a ‘genius’.

Admittedly, it's only been a few weeks into the semester, but you're still having trouble identifying the genius part.

“Wow, how scary! I’m terrified!” Nagumo sounds anything but after hearing your empty death threat. “Who’s the second?”

“None of your business.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! Do I know them?”

You think about it for a second, drawing the potential lines forming the network before shaking your head. “Well, actually, yes. Because congrats, you’ve just been bumped up to #2.”

He grins at that, big eyes crinkling. “See, now that’s a better response! But wait, am I third–”

“Second, now…”

“–right, second on the list because I forgot to do my part of the presentation? I swear I meant to get to it, but I got carried away with an outside mission.”

Genius? More like a lazy piece of shift, you think bitterly, eyes squinting at him to scrutinize what he’s hiding under those large dark eyes and that apparently innocuous grin. Of course, because you suck at intelligence-gathering, you come up with nothing other than a pathetic, “Stop lying, you sucky liar.”

The corners of his lips droop a bit further down than usual, but he still manages to adopt that customary smile of his and waits for another beat. Fully aware that the silence and staring make you uncomfortable.

“About the mission or getting the work done?”

“Both.”

“You’re funny!”

“See what I mean about the lying?”

The chair he’s sitting on instantly lands on all four, the harsh sound of pegs scratching the linoleum floors making you startle against your better judgment. One hand rests on his chin as he raises a brow at you, clearly amused. “But really, why would I lie about either part? If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make sure we get top marks on today’s presentation.”

You only have enough time to offer your exasperated sigh as an answer, since Ito-sensei finally walks in and announces the start of today’s presentations.

“Good afternoon everyone, apologies for my tardiness as a meeting went over. In preparation for your first exam next week, each group will be reviewing a different fundamental skill for carrying out espionage. First tactic: seduction.”

When you hear your name and Nagumo’s being called out, your suddenly heavy legs slowly drag their way to the front of the room, already anticipating to make a fool of yourself with your half-assed presentation on how to seduce a target, a skill all these students staring at you in boredom more than likely have performed a thousand times before.

Straightening your posture, you’re ready to begin your long unnecessary speech on the purpose of seduction until Nagumo yawns. Loudly.

The action has you momentarily pause, soft tittering spreading throughout the classroom until you narrow your eyes at your beaming partner, clear your throat, and continue.

“Seduction can be used as a weapon when the person employs the technique to obtain an objective, as seen in–"

“This demo we’re about to show!” Nagumo cuts in, waving his hands animatedly as if about to introduce a mesmerizing performing act. Your confusion only continues to grow as he sharply turns on his heel to face you, bewildered to see that his usual bright smile has been replaced with a more coquettish expression on his face.

“What are you–”

“The word seduction means to ‘lead astray’ in Latin. Doing such a thing means you have to observe your target’s every move. How they move. How they look at you. At others. At their surroundings.” Every step he takes forward means you take one step back. Until you find yourself hitting the wall, your eyes widening with how cold it feels against the back of your neck. “How they react. How they respond to you.”

He doesn’t even have you pinned, his arms laying idly by his sides while you dumbly acknowledge you can easily escape right now. But for some reason, you feel trapped under that curious gaze, the upward quirk of his lips sending a weird shiver up your spine.

“Catch the changes in their body language.” He tilts his head, and when strands of his shaggy black hair tickle your cheek you fully realize the distance–or lack thereof–between you two. “Are they fearful? Or are they open to receiving your advances? Do they approach you just as eagerly?”

Since when did he get so close?

You gulp when his hand dances over your hip while the other outstretched one reaches your face, and you hate how your head instinctively leans toward the motion. It becomes harder to stand your ground while your gaze flits back and forth between the inked numbers on his fingers and those half-lidded eyes, a darkness so rare with how inviting it seems.

As he delicately brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear you wonder if he can hear the frantic hammering of your heart against your chest. Even if he can’t catch it, you can tell by the slight way his eyes glisten that he certainly knows, and maybe even relishes, the effect he has on you–the way you’re futilely trying to snap out of the reverie you’re currently in, drunk in the smell of whatever woodsy fragrance he decided to wear today mixed with the sickly sweet scent of that caramel candy he was chewing on earlier.

Well, fuck.

“And it’s in that moment, when their mind is distracted and more focused on you than their own thoughts”–his nose brushes yours, and your breath hitches as all you can do is close your eyes–“is when you make your move.”

You feel your lungs deprived of air the second he presses you deeper into the wall, one hand still on your hip as he uses the other to swiftly grab a piece of paper tucked in the back pocket of your pants.

A sharp inhale is what returns you to reality, your jaw slackening upon seeing him retreat and wiggle the neatly folded piece of paper he stole from you.

“Nagumo,” you nearly growl as you feebly attempt to get it back from him, which only seems to get him more excited as his face breaks out into a full-blown grin and he waves the item higher with that freakishly long arm.

“Should I unfold it? Reveal to all the secret recipes?”

“Do it and you die!”

“Is that a joke or a threat?” As if he’s some film actor breaking the fourth wall, he turns his head toward your classmates and winks at them. “You can never tell with poisons students.”

The room erupts into laughter.

If only you did lace that paper with poison! You’re mentally preparing to fight (and definitely lose) to him when Ito-sensei’s booming voice keeps you two in check.

“That’s enough, I believe we extracted the main point of your presentation. Either return to your desks or report to the staff room after class for wasting more of our time.”

Both of you don’t need to be told twice–you practically sprint to your desk while an elated Nagumo hums a merry tune from behind, your mind still reeling from what just happened while the chaos in the room dies down and the next group begins their presentation on deception.

How the hell was Nagumo able to do all of that? A presentation you conducted research and rehearsed for around two hours was something he easily accomplished in less than five minutes. And with you as the guinea pig! The thought makes your cheeks burst into flames, but you refuse to hide your face for fear of appearing weaker.

“What did I tell you?” He tosses the paper into your lap–still folded into its original position–as he sends you one of those big smiles that used to give you the creeps but now seems to evoke some other inexplicable feeling. “Top marks!”

The urge to spit out “No thanks to you” is so strong that you have to bite your itching tongue, because that would be a fat lie. So you let out a spiteful ‘hmm’, twitching fingers creasing the folded paper even further.

“Wasn’t it fun teaming up?”

He’s still a bit too close for comfort when he whispers the question, so you lean forward into your desk, trying your best to ignore the buzzing coming from the pest.

“You and I have different definitions of fun.”

“And how would you define it?”

“Not being near you.”

“Guess I’m not the only sucky liar on this team!”

That earns him a glare as you plot several ways to wipe that pleased look off his face. You cross off a few bad ideas that you’re embarrassed your mind even conjured.

“The silent treatment, huh…Didn’t peg you to be the type who does that.”

The eye roll you offer him appears to be a sufficient answer as he lets out a small huff and pretends to listen to his classmates’ project, his bored yawn louder than whatever is being presented. You naively think you’ll be able to endure the remainder of the class without his yapping.

And then he turns to you once again, an impish spark in those large, curious eyes.

“But I just need to ask–what’s written on that piece of paper anyway?”

You press your lips firmly into a straight line and stare at him, bemused that he hasn’t figured it out. He matches your stare, looking at you expectantly. Maybe he’s pretending that he hasn’t read it–with how fast he is, you wouldn’t be surprised if he only needed one or two seconds to skim over the writing.

Then again, you’re the idiot for having a physical copy of your plan to cheat and steal from the school chemicals and rare toxins inventory.

“It’s my formula for a poison that I’ll use to kill you.” Like a psycho, you grin triumphantly upon seeing the way his mouth turns into a tiny shocked ‘O’.

And like the maniac he is, he’s quick to return your smile, though it doesn’t quite reach those indecipherable eyes. “Looking forward to it!”

You’re too proud to admit that you feel the same.

#reader is a psychotic raging bisexual who is obsessed with making poisons and is in love w rion and nagumo what about it #nagumo annoys the hell out of reader esp when reader becomes the poisons expert for the order #(while they also run a perfumery as a front lmfao - the side hustle if you will)#once sakamoto retires reader is so sick of having to now be the one to listen to nagumo #and heavily considers shutting up nagumo by 'poisoning' him (but only so he passes out for a bit)#in the meantime reader just gives meds for nagumo's carsickness but tbh they just make him more violently ill as payback for whatever #shenanigans he pulls on mc #bc no one in that school is sane everyone there is mentally ill and they def get more unhinged leaving it #sakamoto days is such a good read too i need it animated expeditiously so more people are exposed to the goodness that is that series #again this fic will one day be fleshed out once i get more info on my beloved rion #nagumo x reader #the chokehold nagumo has on me #still thinking about him in that ponytail...yeah...

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jordyn-degas · 1 year

Text

Never again.

Characters: Trafalgar Law x fem! reader

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

italic font - past; regular font - present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I promise to stay safe until you come after me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He never had to. You knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never again, right?

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