#they were THIS CLOSE to being childhood frenemies

[avoteforme]

[white-fox-1415]

Late nights and soft saviors

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Genre: Comfort? Fluff?

Summary: Dean has a nightmare but a soft little something comes to the rescue

Warnings: none, has one curse word

A/N: somebody hold this man and tell him it’s all gonna be ok 😭

Dean and y/n had a bit of a rivalry going on to say the least. When she first moved into the bunker, on account of Bobby’s recommendation, her and Dean clashed almost instantly. She was smart and mouthy and absolutely loved correcting him and back-talking him. But Dean being the sassy man he is, often retorted with a clever comeback, building a small fued between the two hunters.

It wasn’t like they hated each other or anything. They were more like frenemies, though they’d never admit it. Some would even say there were other types of tension to be lingering between the two hunters.

It wasn’t long until y/n found out about Dean’s frequent nightmares, considering that their rooms shared a common wall. She would hear his mumbling late at night, or the sound of the tv he used to drown out his thoughts. She felt a bit sorry for him, even if she never let it show.

She was almost like Dean in that sense. Hesitant to show emotion, to show people she was vulnerable. Her heart was locked away, surrounded by a wall, just as fortified as that of the city of Jericho— impenetrable, or so she thought.

But unbeknownst to her, Dean was slowly chipping away at her walls, starting to weasel his way into her heart with every snide remark, or witty comeback, but especially the stares she pretended not to notice or return.

***

One night she was up especially late, trying to finish a book she had started a few days prior. She did in fact finish the book, and as she was returning it to the lofty stack in the corner of her room, that’s when she heard it— the pleas, the mumbles, the groans.

Dean was having another nightmare. A bad one. Y/n stood there of a moment, conflicted. She could pretend she didn’t hear anything, act oblivious, and just go to bed… or she could go try and wake Dean, maybe comfort him, make sure he was ok.

After one instinct won over the other, she began to head for her door, picking up a small stuffed teddy bear she had on her bed, one that had a lot of meaning to her. She padded over to Dean’s door and knocked. It wasn’t loud enough to wake him so she knocked louder. She heard groans and cusses on the other side of the door as the man woke from his sleep. She heard him make his way to the door so she quickly set the bear on the floor and rushed quietly back to her room.

When Dean opens the door he didn’t see anyone and was rather confused as he looked down the hall. That’s when he noticed it, the bear. “The fuck?” he mumbled as he bent over to pick it up. He recognized almost immediately, even in the dark, as he made he way back into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, just looking at the bear in his lap, playing with it a bit, moving its paws around, as he fell deep into thought.

Why’d she do that? Does she know about the nightmares? Could she hear me through the walls? Does she hear me every time? Does she pitty me? Does she care?

He sighed deeply and lied back down in bed, propping the bear up next to his face. He continued to stare at it for a bit before he hesitantly took it into his hold again, even going as far to bring it up to his face and smell it. Amber and vanilla. Smells just like her, He thought. And with that he closed his eyes pulling the bear closer to his chest, setting his masculinity to the side for a while and indulging in the comfort of a soft stuffie, something he seldom experienced in his childhood.

Before he knew it a single tear was sliding down the side of his face and dripping onto his pillow. Not long after he was reaching for his phone and typing out the simple message,

“Thank you”

before attempting to surrender himself to sleep once more. She read the message and smiled into her own pillow and she drifted off to sleep soon after.

[lionhanie]

myung jaehyun ; voodoo doll

academic rivals to... crush?, childhood friends turned frenemies, jaehyun has feelings and in SEVERE denial

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: i curse like twice lmao, reader is shorter than jaehyun, jaehyun goes thru insane internal conflict because he’s coping w/ his newfound crush on u

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: tbh this is one little self indulgent because i feel like jaehyun + this concept would respectfully Ruin my Life so…. voodoo doll fits the scenario well!

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

your families were close, having moved into the neighborhood around the same time. living next to a family with a son the same age as you essentially meant you would be seeing each other often; whether it was leaving the house at the same time to walk to school or being sent next door to return borrowed tupperware, it was safe to say that you were more than familiar with each other. 

it was sweet, really. the picture of you and jaehyun at your kindergarten graduation has been framed in the hallway outside your bedroom for as long as you can remember. jaehyun’s older brother used to treat you guys to ice cream after a test. hell, your families would take weekend trips together over the summer! even when you were young, your mothers always joked that it would be just perfect if the you two started dating, especially when your families trust each other already! and it would be so convenient too, being right next door and all. except, things didn’t work out as they had initially hoped. 

you were almost always competing with each other growing up -- who could get a better test score, who could get the most medals in a certain sport, who would get more votes at a class election; you name it. once, you made a bet on who would be taller than the other by the time you finished middle school; it’s a defeat that jaehyun never let you hear the end of when a routine check-up at the doctor told you that you were done growing. it was friendly competition for a while, until you both started taking the rivalry a bit too seriously. 

the tension at the dinner table was evident every time your families would join together for your monthly dinners. making sneer remarks towards each other, scoffing at the boasting of one’s achievements, ultimately resulting in a one-up battle that would always be shut down by the parents. it was just petty at this point. you really had no reason to feel so… negatively towards each other all of a sudden. 

“everytime you’re near me, suddenly my heart begins to race / every time i leave, i don’t know why my heart begins to break”

until one day, things are different for jaehyun. he catches himself looking at you from across the classroom longer than he normally does, eyes quickly darting away and cheeks slightly flushed when you address his very obvious staring. when it’s time for lunch, he finds himself sitting a little closer to your table of friends, his heart skipping a beat upon hearing your melodious laughter. when he sees you talking to another guy, he grips the notebook in his hand a bit tighter, a pang of jealousy ringing within him-- he dismisses the feeling and goes about the rest of his daily routine.

despite the apparent hostility in your friendship, you’ve never walked home without the other without good reason. making sure he got the both of you home safe was something jaehyun’s father encouraged him to do ever since you guys were in elementary school; it’s practically second nature to him. there’s not as much conversation exchanged nowadays, especially compared to how you two used to talk the entire walk home as kids, oftentimes having trouble stopping your giggles when you part ways to walk into your respective homes. 

he’s sitting on a bench outside of the school’s entrance, earbuds in as he waits for you to walk out the glass doors. a cool breeze flies by while he hums along to the song that had just come on shuffle. it’s a little strange that you weren’t out yet. it’s been over fifteen minutes since all club activities were supposed to end, and you never wanted to stay at school longer than you need to be. jaehyun contemplates going back inside to look for you, even going as far as getting up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder-- oh, there you are. 

“let’s go?” you finally walk out of the doors, fiddling with your tangled pair of earbuds. he feels a wave of relief wash over him, phew. he was worried there for a second. wait. why was he worried? it’s not like something bad could’ve happened to you; you were probably just talking to one of the teachers or something. he’s acting like you’ve never been a little late before. if anything, he’s probably made you wait even longer than he just did, and /you/ never seemed to think twice about it. what is up with him today? 

“give me those,” jaehyun says, referring to the earbuds you were currently struggling to take knots out of. he doesn’t actually wait for you to hand them to him, rather opting to grab them out of your hands, making you roll your eyes. he untangles the stubborn loops with ease, handing them back to you after. “wow, and no thank you? you’re feeling especially cold today, y/n.” he scoffs as he places his hands in his jacket pockets while he walks beside you. 

“and it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest and i’m having trouble catching my breath”

“myung jaehyun, thank you so much for helping me just now! what would i do without you?” you respond, very obviously sarcastic. “i’m exhausted, starving, and i’d rather not deal with your attitude again today, okay?” jaehyun watches as you plug your earbuds in and place both of them in your ears; you usually leave the one closest to him out to hear him better with the few sentences of small talk shared on the trip home. if he had puppy ears on his head, you would’ve seen them droop at the way you were completely ignoring him now.  he wanted to brag about the grade he got back on his english paper earlier, but it didn’t seem like a good time to do so. maybe you had a bad day. 

as you walk on the familiar route home from school, all jaehyun wants to do is crack a joke or make a fool out himself by doing something stupid-- anything that would possibly brighten up your mood a bit; except you’re focused only on whatever you’re listening to and the sidewalk in front of you. his mind is all over the place as he walks in silence beside you; what’s got you so upset? the exams coming up? surely not, you always seem to get higher scores than him with ease. is it the school festival? you’ve been stressing out over planning your club’s performance for a while... why does he want to know so badly? whatever it is, it’s hurting him to see you stray from your usual demeanor. 

“i don’t even like you / why’d you want to go and make me feel this way? / i don’t understand what’s happened, i keep saying things i never say” 

after dinner, jaehyun’s doing homework at his desk before he pauses to look out the window that faces yours, noticing your lights are off already. it isn’t too late, maybe around 11pm, but it’s definitely way earlier than your typical bed time, especially when finals are right around the corner. “i guess y/n had a rough week.” he rests his chin against his hand, internally debating whether or not to check in on you. it’s not weird to send you a text right? he’s just concerned, after all. 

to: my y/n sorry about earlier. are you going to sleep now?

“...are you going to sleep now? myung jaehyun, you sound like a freak, god. let’s just get to the point.” he mocks himself as he deletes his previous message.

to: my y/n i wouldn’t have teased u if i knew u were having a bad day :( need to talk about it?

“should i even bother apologizing?” jaehyun puts his phone down on his desk. why is it so hard for him to send you a text right now? picking it back up, he erases his message again.

to: my y/n u ok?  → sent!

“that should be fine, y/n can talk about what’s wrong if they want to. and i didn’t seem too needy… this is good, yeah.” he tries to convince himself that he crafted the perfect message literally 3 letters but okay lmfao, but he regrets making himself sound so nonchalant when, in reality, that is the last word he would use to describe himself right now. maybe he just needs to sleep on it. 

“tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll ‘cause i can’t control myself / i don’t wanna stay, wanna run away / but i’m trapped under your spell” 

jaehyun packs up his laptop and notebooks, arranging them haphazardly in his backpack before moving to wash up for bed. he’s a couple steps out his bedroom door, halfway to the bathroom, when he hears his phone chime three times. you’re still awake.  it’s almost embarrassing how fast he finds himself back in his room, eagerly opening his messages. 

3 new messages from “my y/n”! lmao yeah, life kicking my ass lately tell u more tmr if u want details :p  thanks for caring, jaehyun

thanks for caring, jaehyun. what? of course he would care. honestly, he’s offended; why do you think he wouldn’t care about you? he simply reacts with a thumbs up to your second message-- jaehyun hesitates momentarily, but he ends up reacting with a heart to your last message. he thinks you should get some sleep, you need it. 

now, myung jaehyun is having trouble sleeping. which is odd, because he normally knocks out the second he’s under the covers. his heart is practically beating out of his chest thinking back to your texts, even if it was only a couple words. it’s been a while since you two just… talked normally. it’s a sad realization, especially when jaehyun thinks about the years of history you have together. the thought of you laughing at his silly antics and hitting his arm playfully on your walk home, just like how you used to, gives him butterflies. it’s hard to ignore when he’s trying to rest. he’s searching and scanning every possible explanation in his head as to why he started looking at you differently now. he tosses and turns in his bed, even rearranging his pillows numerous times in a sad attempt to push his feelings for you out of his head and finally sleep. 

jaehyun could’ve sworn he hated your guts, but he can’t exactly explain why the “hate” started in the first place. could he have liked you this whole time? no, that doesn’t make sense… you know what, it’s probably some freaky magic manifestation stuff… yeah, that’s it. maybe a voodoo doll or something… because surely there’s no logical reason as to why jaehyun could possibly be falling for you after all this time. 

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

a/n: bye i think its so funny to think that jaehyun is just so unwilling to accept his own feelings that he blames it on LITERAL MAGIC looooooool silly boy i love him :,)

[kiztae]

warmth ― c.beomgyu x f.reader

wc: 4,1k. 

genre: frenemies to lovers, fluff (sometimes), suggestive, smut.

summary: you and beomgyu used to be childhood bestfriends, but you drifted apart and became more dismissive of each other. you both snicker and tease each other, but there's always a feeling of something more being there. perhaps a beach trip can manage to make you guys closer, maybe closer than ever.

cw: smut obviously, dry humping, masturbation (male), dry humping.

note: my second post! first post where i've written something with more advanced smut/suggestive content, hope you enjoy it. (not fully proofread)

──── ☆ ────

the ride to the choi family’s vacation home was long and tiring. your limbs were starting to feel numb after a ride filled with just sitting down and looking through the window.

when your mom told you that you’d be going on a road trip with the choi’s, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

you were squished between the choi siblings, uncomfortably moving around. with some of the luggage being placed on one of the backseats, the space back there was very little.

he was sitting by your side. his little sister next to him, as you tried your best to focus on the landscapes and not the uncomfortable position you were in.

“lily, stop moving around!” he scolded, trying to keep his sister from pushing him against you repeatedly.

“oh please, like you don’t move around twice as much.” you let out, looking back at him.

“why is it about me now?!” beomgyu shouted, then crossing his arms and looking away.

seconds later, the highway had more and more turns which made the car turn aggressively from one side to another. ms.choi wasn’t really the most chill driver. with each turn of the wheels beomgyu got thrown against you, making it harder to ignore the situation.

then, at one last turn beomgyu was done with being thrown around like a rag doll. once the car was turning again, he placed his one hand against the car door and the other one against the car seat, using them to stay in place. however, he didn’t predict how much it would close the distance between him and you. this new position made him corner you between the door and his side.

you were caught off guard to say the least. after doing your best at ignoring the turns, beomgyu's act woke you up right away. you looked up at him with confusion.

he refused to look at you though, feeling slightly embarrassed now. but it didn't stop you from keeping your eyes fixed on him, in an attempt to make him feel even more embarrassed.

that completely backfired though. soon enough, you found yourself trailing his soft features, surprised you hadn't realized how handsome beomgyu was. the furrows of his brows, the barely noticeable bite on his lips out of nervousness, his eyes looking to the side, all of it united in harmony.

finally, he met your gaze. the connection was enough to stop your daydreaming and realize it was him, annoying childhood friend beomgyu. he looked... irritated, and it made you irritated. because, why the hell would he be the one mad at you? he's the one invading your personal space!

he moved away from the door and you abruptly, sitting back down and grabbing his headphones quickly. after that response, you couldn't help but get annoyed. what's his deal?? you thought. you shrugged it off and decided to close your eyes and get some rest.

"wake up guys, we're here!" beomgyu's mom said with enthusiasm as she started taking the bags out of the trunk in a rush.

glimpses of light and a blurry view of the car seats flashed as you slowly opened your eyes. as you were  gradually waking up, you felt some sort of warmness against your cheek. confused, you looked down and around without moving too much. then it hit you.

beomgyu's chest felt warm and soft against your cheek, heaving up and down slowly. the arm he had on your shoulder kept you comfortably in place against him. you had fallen asleep against beomgyu, and he was holding you.

how did that even happen? you asked yourself. unsure what to do, you started to slide off of him in silent movements, trying your best not to wake him up.

"just go, i woke up like five minutes ago." he sighed, keeping his eyes closed and sliding his arm off your shoulder lazily.

"oh" you looked down, hiding your face from him (even though he still kept his eyes closed). "um, okay." you got up and stepped out of the car hurriedly.

"he could've woken me up or something! seriously!" you grumbled while walking into the room to unpack.

you unpacked your outside clothes, skincare, technology items, underwear, and other needs and stored them in the closet and bathroom. you felt at ease now that you were installed and that you had cleaned up your space.

the overwhelming space of the closet and room annoyed you though, what was the closet so big for? why was everything in that room in pairs?  this room is for one, isn't it? i mean sure the queen sized bed is a bit big, but i've slept alone in a bed for two before! your thoughts were all over the place, starting to get worried. they wouldn't make me share this room.... would they?

"what are you doing here?"

the familiar voice interrupted your train of thought, making you freeze. you couldn't believe it, your worst fear had come through. slowly turning around, you came face to face with beomgyu.

"what do you mean "what are you doing here?", this is my room...?" you replied in annoyance.

"pretty sure it's my room and my bed you're sitting on" beomgyu retorted while dropping his bags, stepping closer to your spot.

"you're kidding..." you looked at him, your face exposing your confusion to him.

"oh you'd wish i were, but i'm not." he scoffed. "i believe my mom didn't tell you, or me, that we'd be sharing my room." he sat down on the other side of the bed and pulled out his phone to scroll on it.

after a few seconds of processing this new information, you sighed and looked around. "i'm taking the bed" you stated.

"hell no! this is my bed y/n." he replied looking up from his phone, shocked you even thought of doing that.

"oh yeah? too bad." you retorted while lying down to take more space up. "unless you want to sleep by my side, you're not sleeping on the bed." you added in amusement, while stretching your arms.

"okay."

"what?"

"i said okay. i don't care if you use it too, i am not sleeping on the damn floor." beomgyu concluded while standing up to go to the balcony.

"fine! but don't complain later!" you shouted as he walked away. you weren't sure how to feel about it. you and beomgyu were not the closest friends, hell, you were like enemies. but you guessed it wouldn't matter that much, it was just beomgyu after all. you could easily ignore him.

later at the beach, 3pm. 

the heat of the sun burning your skin felt warm and cozy, making your limbs feel heavy, your body relaxing completely. you didn't sunbathe that often, but it definitely was a good decision to make today. the sun was slightly strong, a nice breeze soothing the fiery rays of it. the sound of waves crushing nearby created a peaceful melody. you couldn't feel any better.

nevertheless, you knew it wasn't good for your skin to be this exposed, not like you wanted to get health problems from some little UV rays. therefore, you reached out your hand to grab the bottle of tanning oil infused with spf that was sitting in the sand next to your towel. it felt like you were moving weights with how much effort you put into reaching for it.

"mom!" you called "mom! help me with the oil please!" you kept shouting, but it was useless, she was playing with lily far away. 

"you really can't keep quiet, can you?" beomgyu's raspy voice came from another side. you turned, finding him sitting down near you, his arms placed on each side of his towel, staring at the sea.

"when the hell did you get there? i thought i was alone." you answered while frowning at him. you really can't get a break can you? although you had to say, it was nice to know you weren't left alone.

"i was in the water, can't you tell from the wet hair? or are you just slow like that?" he mocked as he ran his fingers through his wet hair.

you rolled your eyes in response, he was right tho. his hair was wet, the t-shirt he had on was soaked, outlining his toned abdomen and muscles- that wasn't important. "whatever. where's my mom?"

"she's with lily, i don't think she'll be coming your way for a while." he yawned as he started to stand up, making the sand around him go towards you.

"watch it with the sand!" you scolded.

"oh?" he said, flashing a malicious smile. "what if i don't?" he started to shake the sand off his body, making it land on yours.

"so that's how it is! okay choi beomgyu! come here!" you shouted as you stood up and grabbed a handful of sand.

"oh shit" he mumbled before starting to run away towards the sea.

"that's what i thought!" you yelled while chasing him and throwing sand at him, every landing of sand making his back arch.

eventually, you both ended up going into the sea, swimming around and fighting with splashes of water. your laughs and shouting echoed as you fought. that was until a big wave started to approach you both.

you always had a slight fear of waves, since you were a little kid. beomgyu knew it too, you didn't love going too deep into the sea. those big waves freaked you the fuck out.

"beomgyu..." you paused while looking at the wave "beomgyu..!" you screamed getting more scared as it came closer. you moved towards the shore as you panicked, but it felt useless.

just as you accepted your fate and closed your eyes, you felt someone come and hold you tightly. beomgyu took you into his embrace, pressing you against his chest and hiding your face in it.

"i got you." he whispered, comforting you. looking at the wave, he watched how it was now significantly smaller. he held in a chuckle, knowing you forgot how much they change.

the warmth of beomgyu's body reassures you, making you feel safe and protected. your cheeks burned a bit at the thought of having his chest against you like this, but it didn't last long as you heard him let out a small chuckle. he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"w-what. why are you laughing?" you asked, dumbfounded.

"that wave was so tiny y/n! you worried over nothing!" he laughed softly, separating you from him, and letting you look around to find the small wave that passed. but the wave was the last thing you were focused on now.

his smile. his smile was beautiful, he was glowing. the earlier burn of your cheeks returned with the sight of his handsome face and cheerful laugh. it was like he was charming you.

"just- shut up!" you mumbled, snapping out of it, completely embarrassed. you turned away from him in hurried movements, leaving to go to shore.

"hey! i didn't mean it like that!-" he stammered, feeling a bit guilty after that comment. he didn't mean to make fun of you, not this time. but you were already walking towards the house, with your bag in hand. 

"fuck.." he hid his face in his hand as he sighed. it's not like he wanted to make you feel dumb about it, he knew you were scared. he gave up and left to go back to the house as well.

at the beach house, 7:30pm.

there was nothing that soothed beomgyu more than a late night shower. the warm water hitting his skin felt heavenly, as it made all of his worries fade. he sighed in relief as he rubbed the citrus scent soap all over his chest.

all of a sudden (strangely enough), the memory of your body pressed against that same chest came to his mind. the shape of your breasts that pressed so cutely onto his chest. your waist that was radiating body heat against his hand. the memory of your curves in his hold clouded his mind.

"what is wrong with me..." he sighed while looking down at the semi-erection that was growing between his legs.

his hand reached down for his cock, softly holding it and rubbing it at a slow pace. the image of your plump ass and back as you laid on your towel showed up, making his grip on his hard member stronger. soft whimpers started to come out of the boy's mouth, resonating in the shower walls.

"ah.. shit.." his free hand came up to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle his sinful sounds. each stroke to his cock became more rough, intensifying his shame.

but honestly, could you blame him? you looked so cute. your hands grabbing onto his arms, your face hidden in his broad chest. and then, your boobs. god he loved them, loved how they felt against him, heaving up and down, wet by the salty sea water. he wondered how they'd feel in his hands, in his mouth, anywhere really…

the desperate tugs at his cock were turning frantic as he chased his high. he couldn't help but let out muffled moans, closing his eyes to picture you better. it was a sinful image, poor boy, touching himself desperately, while thinking of you. his shame was discarded to a corner of his mind, as he focused on the intense pleasure rushing through him.

"oh fuck- y/n-" he groaned as an intense wave of pleasure overcame him. hot spurts of cum painted his abdomen white, his cock twitching. the tiny rivers of water wiped the pearly stains off his stomach. and then, reality hit him. did he just cum while thinking of you? he turned off the shower and stepped out wrapping a towel around his waist quickly.

"finally! i started to think you'd just sleep in the shower." you stated, looking up at him from the bed. you had been waiting to use the shower for about 10 minutes now, and as much fun as scrolling through tik tok is, you were tired.

"w-when did you get here?" he questioned in panic.

"like... 5 minutes ago? maybe more. I don't know!" you replied nonchalantly. "do you shower with a shirt?" you joked. he was wearing the towel around his waist and yet he had a shirt on. what kind of outfit is that?

"huh? oh." he said looking down at the towel. "hey i might be a jerk sometimes, but i have modesty and basic respect. i'm not gonna carelessly flash you." he retorted while frowning.

"relax! i was just messing with you! god." you laughed and then got up to use the shower. "you better have not used up all the warm water choi beomgyu."

"guess you'll find out if i did!" he teased as he reached for the closet, looking for a pair of boxers to wear. he decided to put what happened in the shower past him, and to focus on other things.

late night, beach house, 11pm.

"this internet connection is seriously bad." you frown as you stare at the single bar on the wifi icon. "it's practically useless."

"you know where the connection's better? anywhere that's not my bed." beomgyu counters as he stands in front of the bed with his arms crossed, with a mediocre smile.

"stop being a bitch about it. either you share it or you bear it." you replied as you tucked yourself in bed, sighing in content as you felt the soft silk sheets. "huh, never knew you had good taste in sheets. or in anything for that matter."

"i'll have you know i have way better taste than you." he grumbled as he turned to get himself in the bed as well. he hesitated for a second, but he later climbed on the bed and covered himself with the same sheets.

"hey, um, if you really want your bed.. i could try sleeping on the couch.." you said softly as your back faced him.

he turned to be met with the outline of your figure in the dark. "it's late y/n. let's just sleep." he answered.

"i'm serious tho, i don't want you to be uncomf-" your words were cut off as you felt him get closer to you, his weight making the mattress shift.

"shut up and go to sleep y/n." he whispered against your neck, his voice low and deep. his tone was so intimate and yet it felt unfamiliar, it made you shiver. after saying that, he shifted again and turned his back on you too. were you going crazy? did beomgyu just make you blush with a single sentence?

your cheeks were flushed and you had a strange feeling in your stomach, but you shut your eyes and forced yourself to go to sleep. you shouldn't be feeling like that, not because of him.

the next morning, at the beach house, around 6am.

rays of sunshine came through the large window in front of the bed you slept on. you frowned as you struggled to open your eyes, not even sure you wanted to open them. everything felt so warm, cozy, safe even... you weren't sure what it was, but you never wanted to get out of bed. you finally managed to open your eyes, looking at the blurry light coming from the window.

you started to become more aware of your surroundings as you woke up, you tried to stretch until you realized something was holding you back. beomgyu's arms were heavy on your frame, trapping you between them. his mouth was slightly open, his eyes closed, his hair a ruffled mess. once it hit you that he was cuddling you, heat rose to your face. it's like he's some sort of magnet. you thought.

you couldn't quite see him, since your back was right on him. you weren't sure what to do, should you move away? should you just wait until he wakes up? what if he does and he sees you like this? no good solution came to your mind. and that moment, you stopped thinking at once.

something was definitely poking the end of your back, if not your ass. it can't be, can it? he's a man after all, you guess it would make sense. but still, you can't process whether or not it's what you believe.

trying to understand the situation better, you move your hips gently in an awkward attempt at feeling whatever was there. yeah, it's definitely what you think it is. it makes sense though, men can wake up with it. however, you don't know how it got to the point in which you guys cuddled, and it ended up pressing against you like that.

you figure it would be best to move away from him, so you start squirming and moving around as gently as possible. but the outcome is something you didn't predict. beomgyu's hands travel down to your hips and grab them, pressing them against himself further and stilling them.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're trying to do something else." beomgyu murmured against your neck, his morning voice raspy and deep. his hands on your hips caused you to let out a soft whimper, which you abruptly covered with your hand.

"it's not like that- i- we woke up like this beomgyu.." your words came out rushed, you could try to explain yourself, but really what good would it do.

"i know, im fucking with you." he softly chuckled as he opened his eyes to look at you. it was annoying how good he looked, he really did glow in the morning sunshine.

"um, your hands. they're still on my hi-" you commented and tried to squirm away from him again. but just as you did that, beomgyu felt a flash of pleasure go over him, letting out a groan.

"oh fuck-" he groaned as his eyes closed. his hands gripped your hips even harder, making you feel a certain pressure that made your mind spiral. "im sorry, shit, sorry." he mumbled, now a bit ashamed. he was about to move away from you, until he noticed how red your face was, and how erratic your breath was. were you enjoying this..?

"i-it's okay, it's only natural.." you said with your cheeks flushed. you didn't want to admit it, but his bulge was pressing right against your clothed core, his every movement making you more sensitive to him. you could feel a small patch start to form gradually, it was embarrassing how easily he was unconsciously turning you on.

"y/n.." he said quietly, his mind starting to get lost on how good you felt on him. "you feel really good.." he sighed, making you shiver by how his hot breath fell on your shoulder. his hips thrusted up into you unconsciously, making his breath hitch.

"ah- gyu!" the childhood nickname you had for him came out of your mouth in instinct, as you felt him rub himself against your (now wet) core. you couldn't help but buck your hips against his in return, letting out a small whimper.

"fuck, c-can i?" he whimpered, his hips moving by themselves in slightly faster movements. his grip on your hips was starting to feel bruising, but it only made you more excited.

"please don't st- mphh" you said until you were silenced by beomgyu's lips on yours. his kiss was hot and feverish, making you dizzy. he started teasing you with his tongue, threatening to come in. and you let him, you tangled your tongue with his and started to kiss him like it was your last kiss ever.

"gyu-" you moved away to gasp for air, but beomgyu leaned in anyway, eyes closed, lips parted, absolutely wanting more. he didn't want to waste any second of this. he kept thrusting into your soaked panties, creating a delicious friction that made you gasp with each thrust of his hips.

"if i'd known you felt so amazing i would've done this way sooner." he growled while moving his hands to your waist, grasping it like his life depended on it. he then turned you around to lay you flat against the mattress, climbing on top of you shortly after.

"yeah?" you grinned. "then make up for the wasted time, gyu." you said between heavy breaths. he started to pick up his pace, his new position hitting you perfectly, bringing you closer to your edge with every snap of his hips.

"you know, i always tell you to keep quiet. ah-" his words came out broken, his hips stuttering "but the sounds coming from you right now are fucking heavenly."

you wince and grip him at his nape, a handful of his messy hair in your hand. he immediately reacts to it with a loud whimper, his cock can't help but twitch at that, and you feel it. every single thing this man is doing, is spurring you on further, you feel like you're insane.

"i'm close" you whisper as you close your eyes in anticipation.

"fuck no, open your eyes." he says as he lifts your chin up to face him. "if you cum, you do it while looking at me." he commands.

your eyes struggle to remain open, but your gaze never leaves his. you feel the knot in your stomach is about to snap, and you grab onto the sheets on top of your head.

soon enough, you feel the knot in your stomach snap,  all while staring into beomgyu's eyes, feeling like he's put you in a trance.

he followed suit, his orgasm washing over him like a big wave. his cock twitched as it stained your underwear with numerous white threads. you felt every one of them as they left a warmth on your pulsating core. beomgyu managed to partly muffle his last moan by hiding his face in your neck, his ears red and his cheeks burning.

you closed your eyes, coming down from your high. your chest heaved up and down, trying to gain air back into itself. you two just did that, it felt unreal.

"gyu.." you called out as you stared at the ceiling.

the boy didn't move from your neck, still breathing into it as he tried to come down from his high. however, he nodded and rubbed his nose against your collarbone as a way of acknowledgement.

"does this mean we won't annoy the shit out of each other anymore?" you asked.

"of course not dumbass, where's the fun in that?" he answered with heavy breaths and a little smirk.

you chuckled and then brought your hand up to play with his hair. it didn't need to be said, but you both knew that this was something bound to happen for a while now. you guys couldn't stay enemies forever, after all, you got the best of both worlds now.

"i thought so." you whispered before moving yourself back into his hold and falling asleep.

part 2 is posted here!

© kiztae 2023

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 4

Source for pic

Firestarter 4

Word Count: 6856

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: And so the angst begins! If you wish to be added to a tag list, say so! Thank you!

Tag List: @rosidaze

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter| | |Next Chapter|

Saturday comes and it’s very uneventful. Your father says he's got some plans with his friend Mihawk and you use the free time to clean up the rest of your room - there were still a lot of trophies and books from when you were a child, but now it finally resembles a grown-up room. 

Your initial plans for the afternoon included a marathon of trash TV and plopping down on the couch like a parasite, maybe even gobbling up some junk food. But it's such a nice day outside that you decide to do some sunbathing. 

And you do. You dress in a simple red two-piece bikini and lather sunscreen on your body before heading outside armed with your headphones, a book and a towel. The backyard has a little wooden deck with two sun chairs and a small pool. The pool is closed but you're not really interested in it. So you get your little setup and sigh in relaxation. You never had moments like these in the city. Ichiji liked the fancy parties and clubs, there was barely any time the both of you spent together like this. 

In retrospect, you should've seen the end of the relationship coming. You barely had anything else to give each other. It was only a matter of time. 

You cosy up on the chair and stretch. It feels really nice. 

The view of the property is relaxing and the only house you can see in the proximity is Mr. Garp’s. The houses are only separated by a small path and you can see the windows perfectly well. You know which one was Luffy’s old room, you have been there a bunch of times, but you don't quite know which one is Ace's. 

You try to guess based on the knowledge you have of the inside of the house. It's either the one to the right of Luffy’s, or it's the one that faces the side of the house. 

A small smile creeps its way to your lips as you remember your time together at the firestation. Being with Ace felt really natural. You didn't have to force any conversation, he made you laugh and, damn, the chemistry. The sexual tension was crazy. 

But there is only a slight problem. You aren't looking to be just another one. You are no longer in that phase of your life when you're just looking for fun. You want something actually meaningful. And Ace is not meant for meaningful relationships. He isn't capable of it. 

You exchanged some texts with Nami last night saying that you had fun and she had probed you so hard that you caved and admitted you feel very attracted to Ace. But then you probed her, and every assumption you had about him was correct. He is a player and leaves behind him a long trail of broken hearts. He's all about the chase and the conquest. Once he gets the kiss, the girl, the fuck… It's over. 

And you refuse to be just that. 

The afternoon rolls by lazily and you have already rolled over on your back and on your front, just like a happy kitten. Until you see a movement in Ace's house. 

It’s him. 

You were right, his room is next to Luffy’s. He stands in front of the window - shirtless - and unaware that you are there, apparently, since he’s staring somewhere else, his signature cheeky grin in place, and you smile. Damn, he’s cute. 

Off-limits, player, just a crush! 

Can he see you? Could he be tempted to join you in the sun? 

Immediately your head starts to create interesting scenarios for both of you to play out. 

Ace arriving with his cocky smirk and telling you that you look gorgeous. 

Ace setting a knee in the middle of your legs to pry them open as his hand cradles your neck to pull your face up. 

His other hand clutching your hip for dear life. His tongue licking the sweat from your body, from your belly to your chest. 

The hottest kiss you could ever dream of, eliciting all kinds of choked noises and mewls from your mouth. 

You take a deep breath and fan your hat over your face. Maybe it's time to get out of the sun? You're getting pretty hot! 

You gather your book and start to get up when you take another look at Ace's window. And then instantly freeze and regret having looked at all. 

There is a young brunette girl in front of the window, grinning while she closes the curtains. 

Your breath catches for an instant. And then the dread in your stomach spreads its icy tendrils up to your heart. 

It's nothing short of a surprise. It's what he does. His modus operandi. But the realisation still stings. Just last night he told you that he's always thinking about you. Your mind told you, at that moment, that it was a line he used on every girl, yet, your heart thought differently. 

But today, not even 24 hours later, he has a girl in his room. 

You refuse to cry. Even if the tears are more of frustration and about how gullible you are, more than anything else. 

Yet, you should've known. You were warned. 

-*-

Ace keeps sending you texts asking how you are and if you want to hang out. You keep leaving him unread. You're still pretty pissed at him, even though you know you have no right to be. He's not your anything. 

Then you get another text. It's Nami this time, so you open it.  

You miss Luffy! Ace told you he also works at the firestation, but since he no longer lives with his grandfather, you still haven’t gotten the chance to hang out with him. You’ll definitely go to this party. Even if you’re sure to run into Ace and whatever girl he’s with right now…

This triggers Nami, so she instantly calls you. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Forget it, Nami. It's nothing new. I just saw him through the window of his room with some girl.” You force out a laugh. “Nami, it's just a silly attraction. Nothing else. I just think he's really hot!”

“Babe, if you keep thinking about him I think you should just ride that cowboy… Scratch that itch… You get my drift? Take it out of your head and then that's it!”

“You sound ridiculous.”

“Yet no wiser words have ever been spoken.”

“Maybe, but I'm not interested in being just another notch under his belt. I'd much rather be just a friend.” You reiterate. 

“From what I hear, I’d say it's your loss!” She chuckles. “But you're still coming to the party, right?”

“Yes, obviously.” You agree with a chuckle. 

“And if Ace's there with his bimbo?”

“Good riddance to both. I just want to be friends with him, anyway.”

You can almost hear the eye roll on the other end. But to her credit, she doesn't say anything. 

“Deal. We'll meet at your house to get ready. It's closer. I'll tell Robin.”

You agree and after hanging up, there's still a small smile pressed upon your lips. Nami is a friend and she makes you happy. Ace is also a friend. You shouldn't be mad at him. 

Therefore, you open his texts and finally answer him, claiming to have been busy. Forgetting all about the brunette bimbo and simply focusing on your friendship. 

Just like Nami, he gets tired of texting and calls you. 

“Hey gorgeous. I thought you were ghosting me.”

You lie back on the bed and roll your eyes. “Don't call me gorgeous. And I could never ghost you. I've just been busy.”

“Yeah, I get it. I've had a busy day as well.” He chuckles and the cold in your stomach spreads. 

“I bet…” You mumble. 

Friends! Friends! Friends! 

“I can't call you princess and I can't call you gorgeous, what do you want me to call you then?”

Why is his chuckle so damn sexy over the phone? 

“My name, genius! What else?”

“I'll get back to you about that.” Another chuckle. “Have you heard about my little brother’s party?”

“Nami is my friend, how could I not?” You chuckle. 

“Right, right. Are you going?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Me too, obviously.”

Then he proceeds to tell you about the busy day he had helping his grandfather with some affairs at the house and about some paperwork he still had to do from this week's occurrences at the firestation and you tell him about your day. 

He doesn't mention the brunette. And neither do you. 

Somehow, the time goes by and you end up talking with Ace for almost two hours straight. Just like you were musing earlier, he's so easy to talk with. So natural, so fun. 

Shanks knocks lightly on the door and pokes his head inside. “Bug? Dinner's ready.”

You rise immediately, sitting on the bed with wide eyes. Dinner already? You didn't even realise it was already dinner time, and you had meant to cook it. Shanks must have realised that you were taking too long on the phone and did it himself. 

“Oh! Right. I'll be right down, dad. Ace I've got to go. Talk to you tomorrow, bye.”

Shanks bites his cheek, his brows scrunched. It looks as if he wants to say something, but he's considering that it's not his place to do so. So he smiles at you and begins to walk downstairs to the kitchen and you follow. 

The first minutes of the meal are spent in silence until you start telling him about your day. Then, abruptly he talks. 

“Bug… Is your relationship with Ace advancing?”

The fork stops midway to your mouth and you feel your cheeks burn. 

“I know it's not really my place. You are an adult and I was not a present father in your life. Believe me, I regret it most days. Maybe if I had tried a little harder, you and your mother could still be together and you'd have grown up with me. Maybe I had more right to butt into your business. But I worry… and… well…”

“Dad, Ace and I are just friends. Nothing else. He's really easy to talk with and we have a lot of the same interests. He's fun. But that's it. Don't worry.”

You can almost see the relief in Shanks’ face. And you almost feel bad about the way Ace really makes you feel. Because your father's worry is not at all misplaced. Ace is dangerous for impressionable hearts. 

“Friends? Okay, okay. That's good.”

You just have to make sure your heart is not impressionable and that friends are all you and he will ever be. That's all you want to be. 

-*-

The next morning passes by pretty fast as you help your dad with the chores and get the horses and the ponies ready for the Summer Jubilee. Shanks is going to have a horse riding station, mostly for the kids, but sometimes adults like to join too. 

“How's your back, dad?”

“I'm managing. I'm still taking the pills.” 

“Don't overdo it, alright? Are you sure you don't need me there to help you?” 

“No, baby, Beckman will be there to help me. You know he loves these horses. You go and have fun at your party.” 

Benn Beckman is one of your dad’s oldest friends. They used to play some sport together in school and they both never left town, so it’s a natural friendship, like yours with Nami and Robin. The festival only starts on Monday, but the vendors and concessionaires that will have their businesses at the fair are going to use Sunday to set up and you feel as if you should be helping your dad instead of going to a party. 

Shanks winks, and you laugh. “I will, dad.”

“Just not too much fun…” He grumbles, beneath his breath and you roll your eyes as you climb the stairs to take a bath and wait for the girls. 

-*-

“Ohhh, I've got the perfect dress for you!” Nami claps excitedly and you roll your eyes to the back of your head. 

“I have my own clothes, Nami! What is it with you and trying to get me into your clothes?”

“Funny, she always tries to get me out of them…” Vivi muses and you laugh out loud. 

“Honey, don't take this the wrong way. You're beautiful, but your clothes are a bit… plain… don't you want to dress to impress?” She winks. 

“Not really, no.”

“Too bad. This dress is perfect. Vivi and Robin already agreed and I won't take no for an answer. Ace will be blown away!”

You sigh and let Nami dress you up as if you were a barbie doll. There’s no use in fighting her, really. And you hate to admit it, but she does own some sexy clothes. And you do want to blow Ace away.

Though you’re having a hard time admitting it.

-*-

As you cross the tiny pathway to Mr. Garp’s house - turns out ‘at Luffy’s’ means there because Luffy’s flat is too small to fit his many, many friends - your heart starts to beat faster. You know Ace will be there. And you know there will be girls all over him. But you should also know that you can't be jealous, because you're nothing but a friend to him. 

And that's all you'll ever be. 

Still, you feel as if an army of tiny ants are crawling on your insides because everything is moving and squirming in there and you are actually quite nervous to meet him. You guys had a wonderful chat yesterday, but you also knew he had been with another girl before speaking with you. 

And Nami has already told you: Ace is a chaser. He likes the difficulty in seducing women - not that it's difficult for him, you bet. You need to keep repeating in your head: you don't want to be just another girl! 

Are you obsessing? 

Shaking your head, you try to steady your heels on the uneven path. Why did you listen to Nami? You tried to put on sneakers, but after she dressed you in the most shockingly slinky, short red dress with a draped cowl neckline and thin gold chain straps, she almost had a heart attack when she saw your feet. 

She screamed sacrilege and almost hit you in the head with the gold heels. You kept repeating that it was too much, but none of the girls listened to you. To be fair all of them look equally stunning and sexy, so you don't really feel that out of place. 

Still, it's hard to walk in these things and you're pretty sure you’ll be taking them off at one point or another as the party progresses.

As you pass the threshold of the front door, you get immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. It smells like sweat, pot and booze, and the mixture makes you wrinkle your nose. 

“Who are all these people?” You ask Nami, screaming over the loud music. 

“Luffy has many friends!” She answers with a laugh. 

Right. He has many friends but they're definitely from out of town because you're pretty sure that he has more people inside this house than the entire population of your hometown. 

Robin wanders away saying she saw Sabo and she wants to say hi. Nami winks suspiciously at her and the raven-haired girl blushes and giggles. Then, Nami does a little crowd check and smiles. 

“Oh, I see my friend Lola. Will you be alright by yourself or do you wanna come?” She asks with concern and you nod vigorously. You are already seeing some familiar faces, and you won't mind mingling for a while. She smiles and saunters over with her girlfriend, also ready to mingle. 

Sighing, you set out to find a drink, first. You're in the right mood to get wasted after thinking about Ace sucking face with half of the pretty girls at this party! And free booze is just the right way to do it. Sanji is there and you take the cocktail he effortlessly makes for you with a big smile but you don't get to chat much as his drinks are in high demand and he excuses himself to go cater to another beautiful lady. 

You chuckle at his ways and take a sip of the drink he made for you. Perfect. 

You hear your name being shouted and turn around with wide eyes. It's Luffy. You hug him and he hugs back, introduces you to some of his many friends and both of you speak as if you never stopped talking at all. 

“I'm so glad you're back in town again! Ace can't stop talking about you!” He grins and you blush. 

“Right. I bet.”

But, even though you wouldn't mind knowing what Ace has to say about you, Luffy is also in high demand and gets summoned by a man with a long nose and curly black hair, who's smiling at him. Excusing himself, Luffy promises to find you again and you promise to hold him to that. 

You take another look around the room, trying to find old friends amidst the sea of new faces, but your eyes are immediately drawn to him. In all his shirtless glory, obviously. And, even more obvious is the way there's a brunette sticking to his side. An arm draped around his waist and dreamy eyes on her face. 

It figures. The party has just started and already Ace has chosen his catch of the day. Or maybe it's the catch from yesterday?

It irks you so much! Why does he have to be such a player? No, screw that! He can be a player all he wants, he just needs to stop giving you attention and making you feel special! He needs to back off! So you can move on! Geez, you look like a teenager with her first serious crush. 

Chugging the cocktail in one go, you cringe at the aftertaste and quickly ask Sanji to make you another one. You've made up your mind. You just need to avoid Ace all night. If he doesn't speak with you, there's no chance for him to enchant you with his deceiving words. There. You're a genius. 

With this happy resolution in mind and a new tasty cocktail in hand, you decide to leave this room. First step to avoiding Ace, don't be where he is. 

Swaying your hips to the beat of the song, you make your way to the backyard so you can breathe some fresh air and though there are many people outside, the open makes everything better and you inhale deeply. 

“Heeey beautiful.” A slurred voice echoes near your ear as a grimy hand moves your hair away from your shoulder, from behind. “Is that dress on sale? Because it's 100% off at my place!”

You cringe as you turn and slap the hand away from you. “First of all: eughhh! Secondly, don't touch me, creep.” The man looming near you smirks and licks his lips as his eyes rake your body from head to toe, drinking you in, and he further invades your space. 

“Come on,” he snorts and you realise he's clearly inebriated or high, or maybe both. “Dressing like that, what were you expecting?” He reaches and tries to touch you, but a large hand, coming from a presence behind you, wraps around his wrist and stops him. 

“Respect, obviously.” A low voice rumbles over your head as you turn your head around and meet the cold gaze of Ace, boring his dark eyes straight into the boy in front of you. Because in the face of Ace, he's nothing but a scared little boy. He steps in front of you and smirks. “Now apologise and beat it, before I kick you out of my house.” You're impressed with how he managed to speak such menacing words with a smile and still sound threatening. 

The boy mutters a hastened apology and escapes, tail between his legs. 

You face Ace with a frown still upon your lips. So much for avoiding him. Your plan failed and you're not a genius. You're actually an idiot. “Why do you insist on being my knight in shining armour? Especially since you're never wearing anything other than shorts!” You reply deadpan as you point at his naked torso. 

He's checking you out. His eyes linger suggestively on your exposed legs - Nami, once again, knew who she was dealing with when dressing you - and a cheeky smirk curves his cheeks upwards and makes his freckles dance just for you. “I know you like seeing my muscles.” He flexes and guffaws as you roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, me and all these young, impressionable college girls. Smooth, Ace.” You muffle a snort by taking another sip of the amazing cocktail and close your eyes in bliss. “Thank you, but I know how to defend myself from creeps. You can go now. I see a lot of lonely girls ogling you. I'm sure you have better things to do.” You mention suggestively. 

It still stings to know Ace is a player. And that you almost fell for his act. Because how can you not fall for the hot, freckled, funny and helpful fireman who compliments you and pays attention to you? Until you realise you're just another one. And you're not special nor ever were. Not to him, not to anyone. You're just… just… 

You. 

Sighing, you finish your drink in one gulp and turn inside to get another. Maybe this time you'll bring a bottle with you. 

“Woah, easy there, tiger. Don't chug your drinks like that. They taste sweet but they pack a mean punch! Sanji doesn't go light on the alcohol unless you specifically tell him to.”

You eye his drink and, honestly, don't even care what's in it. Locking eyes with him and burning him with your gaze, you snatch the red cup from his hand, ignoring his protests and warning words. “Well, boo-freaking-hoo!” With a mock toast gesture, you chug the whole thing in one gulp.

And regret it immediately.

You cough and wheeze, eyes brimming with tears as you try to breathe through your nose to calm the burn in your throat. Ace just stares at you and crosses his arms over his bare chest. The drink was nasty! It was like pure alcohol. 

“What the hell?” You sputter. 

“I told you, you couldn't handle it.”

“Shove off, Ace!” You drawl as you turn back inside in search of a bottle. God, this man infuriates you. He doesn't follow you inside and you don't care for the empty feeling that leaves in your stomach. You'll soon fill up that spot with some booze. 

Securing a bottle, you make your way back outside, expertly avoiding the place where Ace was, and start mingling with some old school friends. Time flies in an instant. Either that, or the vodka you snatched is really good, because suddenly everything seems to be spinning around you. 

You make up an excuse and try to find your way back inside, ready to find Nami and tell her this was a terrible idea and you are going to go home. But, instead, you take another chug of the bottle and wince. The numbness of the alcohol is quite refreshing, maybe a bit more won't hurt. 

But your steps are uneven and you keep bumping into people and apologising. Someone grabs you and pulls you into a dance and you can't quite tell if you know the person or not. It looks like he has spiky green hair and a loop for a nose ring. His teeth seem really sharp but that might be just the alcohol talking. He starts to get handsy because you're losing your balance, but soon, his hands go from your waist to your hips and try to get lower. 

Your brain clicks and you shove the man away but you are even dizzier from the dance and ready to fall or pass out until a strong pair of hands grabs your waist and sets you over his shoulder unceremoniously. 

Before you protest, you realise it's Ace just by the smell of him. That darn smokey wood and fresh pine! A freaking punch in the gut just as you were having fun. “Let go!” You slur into his back as you start to kick your feet in the air. 

“Stop it! Your dress is riding up! This thing is freaking short.” He hisses. 

“I don't care! Let go of me, Ace, I mean it!” You keep kicking and sure enough, your dress is almost exposing your butt, so you feel him pull the fabric down and settle his warm, big hand over the gap of your thighs and your butt so it doesn't ride up again. 

That action stops your squirming immediately. 

You start to take notice of your position: breasts are squished against his back and bare legs feeling all of the heat emanating from his chest. And his smell… God, his intoxicating smell is making your head spin. Or perhaps that’s from all the alcohol. 

Why is he with you? Shouldn't he be sucking face with some bimbo? 

You realise you still have the bottle in your hand, so you take another sip as Ace carries you up the stairs. You've been upstairs at Luffy’s house before. In his room, never in Ace's. Because that's definitely where he's taking you. So in with another sip. 

“Stop drinking!” He hisses again and sets you down at the top of the stairs. You stumble and hit your back against the wall with a low whine. At least you're steady now. 

Grinning, you raise the bottle, your eyes never leaving his harsh stare. “Make me.” You taunt and take another sip. Ace grunts as his hands tousle his dark hair. 

“You're infuriating.” 

“Hmm, hmm.” You chuckle. “As I thought. You're all bark and no bite.” You take a step to the side to descend the steps, aiming to get another bottle, or to find Nami, or leave. Whatever. Anything to get away from Ace's intoxicating presence. 

But the stairs move! Or the floor does. You're not certain. What you do know is that you're about to fall. 

But, obviously, you don't get to fall, because your knight is right there for you, holding your waist and pulling your body against his. Ace’s head nuzzles against the crook of your neck while his arm circles your waist, protectively. You feel pressure on your hips just as he digs his digits firmly against your flesh, his hip fixation driving you crazy once more as your toes curl. 

A gasp leaves your parted lips as he inhales your scent and then you moan softly as he exhales hot breath against your neck, trailing goosebumps with his lips and grunting near your ear. 

He lets go abruptly and wraps a hand around your wrist, tugging and pulling you towards his bedroom. Is this going to happen? Are you going to fall into his trap? 

Because you're drunk? 

Opening the door he throws you onto his bed with a growl and turns. You hear him breathing heavily but you can't do anything as everything is spinning around you and, even if you wanted to, you couldn't quite get up yet. 

After a moment you hear his feet shuffle as he turns back to you. “Sleep.” He approaches and snatches the bottle from your hand. “And enough of this.”

He turns to leave the room but you grab his wrist. Were you going for the bottle? Or was it really his wrist you meant to grab? 

“Stay.” You whisper against your will. 

You can almost hear his internal battle raging outside. You're drunk, and you know he doesn't want to take advantage. But you do. 

Do you? 

His jaw clenches and he sits by the foot of the bed, away from you, his face turned as he's assaulted by a grim look. 

You can't think too much about this or it will never happen. You're drunk. So you should just go with it. You're sure it'll feel good. It will help you process whatever it is you think you feel for him and then, finally, forget him. What did Nami say? 

Ride that cowboy, scratch that itch. 

Damn, riding him does sound good. Who cares about the dumb bimbos he has downstairs waiting for him? Who cares if he'll just find another girl to chase after you?

Sex sounds pretty damn appealing now. 

“So how does this work, exactly?” You start, getting on your knees and approaching his body, one hand caressing his naked shoulders and now he can't help but stare back at you. “You seduce the girl, or barely do anything because you have all that!” You point at his body with a snort. “And then after you've fucked her, you move on? It's like she never existed, nothing happened, just another notch under your belt?”

You ask while he keeps staring at you. You can't read anything in his dark eyes. His freckles seem lifeless, his smirk is gone and he doesn't seem amused at all. 

“Because if that's how it works, maybe we should have a go at it. You just fuck me and we both move on. Because I can't take this anymore, Ace.” Your voice is barely a whisper. You move closer and straddle his lap. Your dress rides up and you buckle your hips against him, feeling his hardness against your achy, needy core as he muffles a grunt against his pressed lips. His hands twitch as if he wants to grab you but they remain planted firmly against the bed. His eyes never leave yours, yet he remains silent. “I can't be this hung up on you anymore, Ace. So just get this over and done with, will you? So we can both move on.”

Tilting your head to the side and digging your nails into his scalp, you lean in for the kiss, ready to take his lips, his tongue, his hands and his dick. And then his rejection, his aloofness and the hurt of seeing him with someone else. 

That is the whole Ace package. 

But maybe that's what it takes to stop obsessing over him. 

Except you don't take anything because he stops you. Two strong hands on your shoulders push you back as his gaze falls down, facing your bodies where they are close. Would be connected, even, if not for the clothing between you. Ace is breathing heavily and you can feel the tension oozing out of him in hot waves. 

“Stop.” He says your name firmly. And you know a ‘no’ when you hear one. Even though this one hurts like hell. 

Nodding, it takes you a few turns to swallow the hard lump that formed in your throat. As you get off his lap and fix your dress, you notice that the world is spinning once again and this time it's almost unbearable. 

“It's not that I don't want you. Trust me.” He groans. “It's just… you're not even going to remember this conversation tomorrow, let alone be of sane mind to consent to sex.” He snorts and shakes his head. “When-... if we do this, I want you to remember all of it.”

You roll your eyes at him and scoff loudly. “I would rather forget.” You mumble and lie back, curling to the side and closing yourself off. As if you would like to remember the time when Ace used you and dumped you - if it happened. Forgetting is much easier than getting all of his attention. 

He sighs and gets up. Then he takes off your shoes and tells you to close your eyes and sleep. You close them, with a heavy heart and a heavier conscience. You do hope you don't remember this tomorrow. The way you threw yourself at him and the way he swiftly rejected you. 

Which one is worse, really? 

Covering your body with a blanket, he puts the trash can near the bed in case you need it later - you’ll probably need it. There’s a heaviness on top of your eyes, the beginnings of a throbbing headache, and a moment passes but Ace doesn't leave. His presence still fills the room, still fills you and makes your heart ache. But you don't open your eyes to acknowledge him - or your pain - and your breath starts to even out. 

You hear him sigh and sense him leaning above you, his head hovering near yours. “You would never be just another notch under my belt…” He murmurs and kisses your forehead gently before leaving you alone in his room.

-*-

You’re woken up either by the bright sun shining directly on your eyelids, or by the throbbing headache in your temples, you’re not quite sure.

Either way, your body says that it’s too early for this, and it’s too freaking hot. When it gets this hot, you usually lean against the wall on the side of your bed to absorb the coolness from the bricks. So you turn to the side and scoot over to mould yourself against the cool wall.

Except there’s no wall. 

And there’s no more bed.

So you fall with a soft yelp, dragging the blanket - which is rolled around your torso, arms and face, for some reason - and fall onto the hard floor.

Wait.

You fall, alright, but not onto the hard floor. It’s firm. And it’s a body. It’s grunting.

Huffing, you try to stand up but the blanket makes the job difficult and the room is still spinning from all the alcohol you ingested yesterday, so you sit, on top of the body, stradling the man below you, and trying - in vain! - to either get up or to get rid of the blanket, all the while muffling apologies for the minor ‘inconvenience’. 

In the middle of your desperate plight to escape your situation, you hear another low grunt and feel two strong hands grab your hips and pin you against his body, making it impossible to move.

“Stop. Squirming. Please.” 

It’s Ace. You stop immediately, your free hand grasping at the surface in front of you - his abs. Feeling your face burn up at the touch you realise the reality of your situation: You’re both on the floor, with you straddling him and fondling his perfect six-pack - maybe stop touching him! - and he’s very hard between your legs. 

“I-I’m sorry. It’s… the blanket…” You start, your face hidden by the thrice-damned blanket. Ace grunts again and you wince at the loss of contact when he removes one of his hands and rips the blanket off you with one swift motion. 

The pull disrupts your balance, and you dig your nails into his stomach - that’s sure to leave a mark - and tighten your legs around him to try and steady yourself. You know he doesn’t mean to, but Ace bucks his hips up with your squirming and you barely bite back a whine at the friction that creates in your core. 

“Fuck.” He mutters with a desperate exhale, lifting his torso up and facing you.

This is dangerous territory. And now you’re free, so you should get up. Why don’t you? 

Ace’s fingers grip your hips tighter. When did his hand return to your hip? You didn’t notice it, it’s like it belongs there. And why are you now grabbing his shoulders? His eyes are all pupil and he doesn’t blink while he drinks you in. You know you must be a mess. Hair all over the place, smudged makeup, dress straps off your shoulders… yet the look he’s giving you makes you feel like you’re the only girl that matters in the world. 

“Don’t do that…” You whisper. You want him to stop looking at you like that, to stop making you feel special and wanted, because you can’t take another heartbreak, and there’s no way that something you start with Ace won’t end in heartbreak. So you need to nip this in the bud even before it blooms. 

“Right.” His voice is hoarse and ragged as his hold tightens around your waist, lifting you with ease and setting you aside, removing himself from the situation. He grabs a discarded shirt from the back of his chair and leaves the room cursing and tousling his hair. 

You only meant for him to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t want him to leave completely. Right? Because now there’s a sudden emptiness inside and around you and you’re not quite sure how to be complete again. 

Sighing, you massage your temples with both hands. The tension between the two of you is becoming unbearable. Should he just fuck you and get it over with so you could each go your own way?

Why does this line of thought feel so familiar?

Lowering your head, you inhale and almost gag at the smell of your dress. At some point yesterday you must’ve spilled an entire drink on yourself, because it smells like the back alley of the town's dingiest tavern. 

You test your stability by slowly lifting yourself with the help of the bed, and it works. Then you look around and, sure enough, there’s a half-crumpled t-shirt lying on the chair, the same place he took the other one from. Grabbing it, you take a tentative sniff. It doesn’t smell bad. If anything, it smells like him.

It smells amazing.

Even though Ace closed the door when he left, you turn your back and quickly discard your dress. You curse when you realise you’re not wearing a bra because the dress didn’t allow for one, but you still pull the shirt over you. It falls to your thighs, almost at the same height as the dress.

“Hmm, hmm.” Ace’s grunt startles you and you turn swiftly to the door. Did he see you change? “Here.” He extends a glass of water and two pills. His eyes are locked on the ceiling and there’s a slight blush on his cheeks. He saw you.

You choose not to acknowledge the fact.

“Thanks.” You take the pills and almost inhale the glass of water because you’re so thirsty. Then you sigh in satisfaction and set the glass on his desk. “I took your shirt, I thought you wouldn’t mind… seeing as you barely wear them.”

That elicited a very small chuckle from him, but the curl of his lips didn’t even reach his freckles. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“No. Not much. I think I remember you bringing me here, but then, nothing. I must’ve blacked out immediately, right?” You chuckle and miss the pained grimace on his face.

“Yeah, that was it.”

“Sorry for taking your bed and making you sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. “Sorry for falling on top of you… I thought I was in my room, you see, there’s usually a wall there and-...” You stop your wild gestures and chuckle. 

Why does this feel weird all of a sudden?

“I guess I should get going. Shanks might be worried.” You know your father will never say anything about you spending the night away or drinking, you’re no longer a kid, but he will still worry.

“I texted him last night to tell him you were alright and spending the night.”

You flush as your eyes meet his. “You told him just like that?” He nods and you groan. “Great, he’s going to think we have something.”

“Who would want that, right?” He sounds sarcastic.

“What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem!” He grunts again and you somehow pick up on the fact that he’s angry at you, or frustrated at least. 

“Clearly you do!” Taking a step forward, you try to approach him with your hand extended, but he turns his face away from you with a ‘tsk’ and steps back. For some reason your heart sinks and you feel cold. 

“Got it. I’m the problem. I’ll get out of here, no worries.” Maybe he wanted to spend the night with some girl and you being in his bed got in the way of that? That had to be it. Why else would he be so upset?

Grabbing your shoes from the floor and your crumpled, smelly dress, you make your way to the door, brows knitted together and lips pursed. 

“I’m so sorry for getting in the way of your lay. Maybe you should’ve just dumped me in Luffy’s old room instead of your own. Then you would’ve been able to fuck whomever you wanted.”

You stomp past him and you don’t know why you have tears stinging in the back of your eyes. Might be because of the hangover? It has to be.

“So sorry for the inconvenience.” You shout before running down the hall, down the stairs and to your home.

[togenabi]

throwing pebbles because I love you

megumi fushiguro x reader (royalty au)

♡—Whenever the night is clear, and the wind blows softly, Megumi throws rocks at your window.

word count♡— 2.3k words

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— childhood frenemies to lovers, megumi throws rocks, no use of y/n, mc is a bit of a snob, very fluff, secret codes, confessions, not really proofread, megumi is ooc I'm sorry TvT

author's note♡— I really didn't mean to make my second royalty au to also be related to windows, but here we are. (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠) no windows were harmed in the making of this fic.

The first time it happened, it was an accident. You were both eight.

Their royal highnesses, prince Megumi and prince Yuji, were staying over at your family's estate as guests. Your mother was a royal through and through, having descended from the greater empire then married into a neighboring kingdom's duchy. After your father passed, she never remarried; choosing instead to focus on serving the kingdom as the perfect duchess.

She never forced you to take on too many responsibilities, despite her own workaholic tendencies. Your mother had simply let you be a child. Eventually, you learned to be extremely grateful she let you grow into your own person.

For now though, you were eight. And some kid just threw a pebble at your very pretty window.

You throw it back at him.

“Ow!” The kid cries as he rubs his forehead, on which a mark has begun to redden. “Hey! Mine was an accident!”

“You still did it!” You say, pointing at the dent he caused while looking down at him from the windowsill. “My response was your consequence.”

The both of you glower at each other until you realize how far he is. “What were you doing throwing rocks at my manor anyway?”

The kid suddenly looks sheepish as his eyes turn to anywhere but you. “My friend needed rocks for some game he made up, and he bet he could catch all of them.” You notice he starts glaring ahead of him at the ground level, so you lean down—out of the window, to follow his gaze. Your eyes catch a head of pink hair before it runs away.

Realizing these two were the royal guests everyone was fussing about, you scoff. “That's hardly very princely of the two of you.”

He bristles. “Is that how you act towards the prince of the kingdom you serve?!”

“I'll greet you properly when our interaction doesn't begin with a pebble being thrown.” You say as you begin closing the window, throwing on a smile just to mess with him more. “Have a pleasant evening.”

You got terribly sick not long after that, and you never saw him for the rest of that summer. The duchess had forbidden visitors unless absolutely necessary so that you could recover quickly.

Prince Megumi fades into your memory, turning into one that you recall only when you spot that dent on your window frame.

You never made the effort to have it repaired, for some reason.

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

You're fifteen, hiding in your room as a ball rages downstairs. Your maids would be distraught if they caught you, donning your best clothes, yet curled up on the couch with a book. No matter, this was the perfect way to spend an evening, in your opinion.

When a pebble glides through your window and lands on the floor nearby, you look at it incredulously.

‘This feels strangely familiar...’ But you decide to ignore it, your position on the couch is much too comfortable to leave. You resume reading.

But another rock comes in. Then another.

“Tsk!” Snapping your book shut, you spring up and finally look outside the window. Your eyes meet a certain familiar prince, holding even more rocks in his hands.

You frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “This time's deliberate, then?”

“I'm sorry but I need to hide! Please help me—could I come up?” His voice is urgent, and it's only then that you notice the state of his clothes. They were filthy, and part of his coat sleeve blooms red.

Without thinking further, you push a mechanism hidden beneath a flower pot by your window. A rope ladder immediately falls to the ground outside. Megumi is stunned for a moment before reaching for it, and you wonder if he had planned to climb the vines painfully when he asked to come up.

You assist by pulling him once he's within arm's reach, and he collapses into your room with a loud groan. You slam your hand on the mechanism again, and the rope reels back into place.

He looks exhausted, but you have to make him get up. You're not sure how you would move him to the couch if he fainted.

“Stand up for me, please.” You plead with him. “At least to the couch.”

Megumi's breaths are labored as he glances towards the couch. He closes his eyes and groans louder as he gets up and walks slowly, leaning on you the whole time.

He's out like a light once he lies down. Your first instinct is to go get help, but it hits you that you have no idea who Megumi was running from. It dawns on you that if he could ask help from a professional, especially one nearer the palace, he would have. It could be dangerous for anyone else to know he's here.

You purse your lips as you think, and reach for a medical journal on your shelf. You must do your best to tend to his wounds on your own while he rests.

Megumi looks so peaceful as he sleeps. He looks the most relaxed you've ever seen him, and you're thankful he's at least comfortable. While his wounds weren't that deep, he was probably running for a while, which had exhausted and strained him further.

You're cleaning up the medical supplies you used when Megumi regains consciousness for a moment.

“...Thank you.” Megumi's eyes reflect how truly grateful he is. He croaks out the words despite the toll on him. He even grasps your hand dearly.

You clear your throat and look away, but your ears clearly turn red. “If you ever need my help again, just throw a rock. I'll be here.”

That brings a sleepy smile to Megumi's face. “What happened to ignoring me if the encounter starts with a pebble being thrown?”

It takes you a moment to respond. You're not sure what surprises you more, that he remembers your exact words all those years ago, or that he has the gall to crack jokes in his condition.

You stutter out a response lamely to cover up how flustered you are, “I—there can be exceptions, even if it's for you.”

Megumi laughs quietly, and lets out a soft sigh before falling asleep.

You drape a blanket over him as he rests, pausing only to brush his hair away from his eyes.

You don't notice, but the gesture makes Megumi's breathing still for a moment.

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

When you're eighteen, your window is severely banged up with dents and scratches. The glass had already broken on more than one occasion, and while of course you had that replaced, the frame stays strong from all the rocks it's been hit with throughout all these years. And, on the day it finally breaks and shatters into spikes, you think you'll make a picture frame out of it.

‘Megumi and I don't have a single nice portrait together, though.’ The thought makes you laugh softly. Both of you weren't exactly exemplary at the frivolous details that come with being nobles, you often helped each other out to skip balls and escape from dreadful hours posing for portraits. But neither of you ever minded.

You bought the most wonderful chair when you were sixteen, you simply melt into it while reading. The best part of it, however, was that you could put it by your window; with the ladder mechanism easy to reach nearby.

Megumi visits less often these days, though. His responsibilities are becoming far too great to leave the palace for too long. He even leaves for other nations and kingdoms sometimes.

But you keep waiting, and he always comes back to you.

A rock clatters into your room and you smile absentmindedly at the sound. You continue reading as your hand moves to trigger the ladder down.

Megumi enters through the window. You'd look at him, but the novel you're reading has suddenly taken an interesting turn, and you're absolutely absorbed into it.

If you had looked up, you would have seen the softest of smiles on Megumi's face.

He approaches and kisses your forehead. By the time you process what happened, he's already walking away as if that was the most normal thing to do. You blink at him in surprise. Megumi only sits on your desk, as he's done so many times before, and begins to do some paperwork he's brought with him.

“What was that?” You ask, still stunned.

“What was what?” Sounds of paper shuffles as he sifts through documents.

“That kiss.”

He pauses.

Your heart seems to rattle in your chest. Were you too blunt? Was it really a normal thing that people like both of you did? Both of you? What were both of you? Does he—

Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Megumi smiles, and you finally see that soft and caring smile he saves only for you.

His next words, however, make you throw a pillow at him.

“I'll give you another one later if you liked it that much.”

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

It's late into the evening after Megumi has left. You don't speak of the kiss again, and he doesn't either. Though you already had an inkling of your feelings for Megumi, you've never spoken of or acted upon it.

But tonight suddenly made you question if you should start to.

As you retrieve it, your fingers trace a rough texture on the rock Megumi threw earlier. Turning it over, you read something that seems to be etched into it.

‘TWK—p.402, q.1'

Is it some sort of code? What could this be? Surely Megumi was the one to carve this, but how do you decipher it? You stare at the rock and return to your chair. Before you sit down, however, your eyes catch the cover of the book you were reading...

The Wicked King.

The puzzle pieces click into place. A title, a page number, and a quote! Your fingers flutter to get to page 402, not caring that you haven't actually reached that part of the book yet...

The first line makes you gasp and your heart stutter.

“You are my daylight.”

As you trace the line delicately, you wonder if he's always been doing this. But you would have definitely noticed if he was. The jagged texture of the letters are obvious no matter what way you hold the rock. The others before were always perfectly intact.

Your heart skips a beat again. ‘Then... Does this mean that this is the first, and that he'll leave another code next time?’

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

A month passes, and Megumi has visited you exactly three times since the first rock with a clue.

Though he's visiting less, you're certainly thinking of him more. The messages you decoded all engraved into your mind at this point, with how many times you've read them.

“You are my daylight.”

“May your day be filled with happiness and warmth, as much as you have given to me.”

“My mind has not forgotten how you smiled at me so.”

“Thank you, for being my home.”

You never let on that you cracked the ciphers, however. He hasn't ever mentioned their existence either, but you suspect he knows that you're aware. Especially since he's been acting so much more dearly during his visits.

After writing all the messages down on a sheet of paper, you realize you should give Megumi a reply. But, how should you do it?

Your eyes find the four small rocks on your desk...

Ah, of course! Of course that's the most perfect way!

Your mind whirls with excitement as you rush outside to find a rock. Once you find one, you realize Megumi is the only person you would do this for...

Because you love him.

And that's it, you've decided. That's what you'll tell him, no code needed.

You love prince Megumi.

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

‘Is this how he felt, all those times before?’ His window seems so far and almost out of reach. ‘Was he ever this nervous? Nervous that I wouldn't respond?’

You tighten your grip on the pebble. Megumi never had to worry about that. You'd always respond to him no matter what.

And yet, you're nervous as hell, and shaking like a leaf. If you weren't so anxious, you would have laughed at how baffled the palace staff were when you arrived but didn't enter the palace at all.

The head butler looked so confused when you asked to be led to Megumi's window, but you assured him your intentions meant well.

The pebble suddenly feels heavy in your palm, but you hold yourself firm. You blow a kiss on it softly, before beginning to aim.

The pebble flies from your hand. It was a perfect throw that collides with his window loudly before rattling along his balcony floor.

Megumi peeks out carefully, but then brightens up the moment he sees you. He laughs as he waves at you. “It feels so strange to be on the receiving end of the rock.”

You smile shyly up at him. “But, you haven't just been giving me rocks recently, haven't you?”

He suddenly looks nervous, and starts to search your face for any sign of rejection. When he finds none, he looks cautiously optimistic.

“Pick up that rock now, would you?” You say, acting impatient, but your heart is beating eagerly to see his reaction.

He turns this way and that looking for it, and you stop breathing when he finally finds and reaches for it. Once he reads it, he looks at you with a dazed expression. The rock falls from his hold as he quickly jumps over the balcony edge, and lands safely in front of you.

You're about to nag that he nearly gave you a heart attack when he slowly gets on one knee. Your words die in your throat.

Megumi laughs at how stunned you look. “I'd throw this rock at your window, but my family might actually kill me.”

His smile widens as he jokes, “I don't suppose I need to write a code to express what this one means...” He opens a small box to reveal a stunning ring that suits you perfectly.

“Will you marry me?”

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[weirdleeenough]

Drabble, Frenemies

Choji's friends are not friends with each other.

He's not quite sure, but he thinks its a lot more than that.

Childhood Enemies! Frenemies to Lovers! Young Love, SFW.

Shikamaru Nara / You

When you're young, it's easy to think the world revolves around you.

Your toy, your snack, your mom, and most importantly, your friend.

Maybe as you grow older, some things would change. You'd learn compromise, and what it means to be tolerant if not welcoming. Skills necessary for being a kind and reliable adult.

Yet for some reason, you had to learn these skills way earlier than most.

Why?

Because your friend wasn't just your friend.

He was Shikamaru Nara's friend too.

Shikamaru who was lazy, who cared for nothing more than staring at clouds and counting how much seconds it would take to hit REM sleep.

He who was so blatantly two-faced and a slob, and way smarter than you to boot. Shikamaru always got his way.

And that meant Choji Akimichi would have to be a friend to you both.

It wasn't a trio. God forbid! That fate was saved for some narrow minded tradition with the name Ino-Shika-Cho attached to it. Where they'd tickle the bottoms of each others feet in a random deer forest, whispering secrets in each other's ears.

Whatever!

Shikamaru Nara was not your friend. Not even close. He was the plus one, an add-on, buy one get one if you will.

He pulled your hair, and sighed, and rolled his eyes, and called you names! He just complains and complains, "Oh, why is she here? What a drag!" Yes, what a drag! Shikamaru Nara was that kind of guy.

Unambitious! A laidback loser! No-good slacker! He pinched you during the middle of third year exam! He slept through your 12th birthday party! He told his dad, and your dad, and Choji's too about your super, super, SUPER secret sleepover party! He, he..., he...

He kissed you!

He kissed you...

Today.

On the hill.

He just held the back of your head, gave you some weird look that made your heart stop, pulled you close.

It's warm, but the sun isn't even out yet. It's soft but he's barely touching you. It's breathy but you're not even sure if you're breathing.

And he sighs. Relieved, like he's been waiting years. He clings onto you so suddenly, grappling at your hips, pressing you into the grass. In a whisper, he calls out your name, then kisses you again.

Shikamaru Nara tastes like rice and mint.

He smells earthy. His hair is soft. His eyes are brown, and they're staring right at you, eating you alive.

Just looking at you like he loves you. As if you both weren't just stupid sixteen year olds. As if you hadn't spent the last ten of them bickering like the worst enemies. As if it was only natural, set in stone, aligned with a distant future.

"Say something," he says to you.

But you don't.

You simply lay back down as you were before. Nestling into his shoulder and the grass, head facing down the hill. You pretend you're waiting for Choji, scoff and tuck your hair behind your ears.

Hiding your joy, your smile, and the blossoming of your first love in the grass.

He smiles too, but he doesn't care to hide it.

Definitely not friends.

[sophswritingthings]

PART 8 MATERIAL

(Back to the present where we're at the brothel and Mizu is about to go kill a girl I forgot abt)

So Mizu is about to leave to go Assassinate the girl and had Akemi tied up leaving behind Ringo and the Reader. Reader tells Ringo to keep an eye on Akemi while reader goes to go find herbs to refill on medicinal stuff and runs into an old friend. More like frenemy if you will.

The frenemy is from her childhood and the frenemy starts go taunt reader for her horrible childhood and reader being a mature doctor she is, she leaves the frenemy behind and goes to another shoo for herbs but the frenemy is really persistent like she's inlove with the reader. (Probs is ngl)

Then reader somehow slips that she has a husband and frenemy goes like "I could probably have him second's." in a very condescending tone and reader gives her a warning by throwing one of her signature poisoned Kunai near her and pinning her against the wall before saying something along the line like "You couldn't have jack shit." before purposely prying the Kunai out of the wall and slightly slicing her cheek. Knowing the Kunai was poisoned.

Reader goes back to the brothel and finds Mizu and Ringo talking to Akemi (more like listening to her threaten Mizu) and reader ofc gets pissed and throws a very sharp hair pin near her head and again warns her about threatening her husband (wife 🤨).

Mostly abt reader and her temper because it's all I can cook up for part 8 😊😊😊😊

pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader

warning(s): swearing, blood, poison yknow the usual shit

a/n: reader said “bitch you couldn’t have my man if you tried” and honestly I love that for her!

summary: you run into an old “frenemy” and you two have a little chat while you’re out.

word count: 815 words / 4,354 characters 

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

“keep an eye on her,” mizu gestures toward the tied up akemi; hauling herself to her feet. she flips her hat onto her head, sliding open the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

“husband,” akemi scoffs. “why.. him?”

“simply because I love him,” you raise to your feet, standing over akemi with your eyes narrowed. “is that not reason enough?”

“where I come from—no,” akemi shifts her gaze downward. “it isn’t.”

“hm,” you hum, glancing at ringo. “ringo—keep an eye on her, yeah?”

ringo nods, “I’ll keep close watch.” he smiles.

you smile back at him, “and don’t listen to what mizu says. you don’t have to kill her if she moves,” you chuckle, partly because of how rash your wife could be at times. “just make sure she doesn’t do anything.. stupid.”

you grab your basket and head out the same sliding door mizu had left from, not long ago. you slide it shut behind you, walking past the women of the brothel and out the door.

you spot a shop, down the street. an herbalist is exactly what you needed to restock the medicines you took for travel.

with a smile, you head toward the shop, the bell ringing as you push open the door.

heads flip onto you for just a moment—and when they see it is no-one of interest—go back to what they’re doing.

“excuse me?” you approach the counter, “do you happen to have shisho? I am in need of it.”

they man working behind the counter, looking lazy as ever, nods and disappears into the back of the shop. he never looked at you once, never spoke.

it wasn’t how you ran your shop, but if he got you what you wanted, it didn’t matter.

“oh. how nice it is to see you here,” a voice, a weirdly—familiar—voice piped up from behind you. you turn to see who it is, and your eyes immediately narrow. “oh, what, you didn’t miss me?”

“I didn’t happen to,” you hiss, turning back to face the counter.

“well.. based on what you did, I haven’t missed you quite a lot, either.” their eyes narrow, “running my fiancé out of the house, killing your own siblings! and your poor mother had to take it all because you were a little pussy and couldn’t handle it yourself.”

you’re nails were digging into the counter, the anger bubbling up inside you. It was like an erupting volcano, at this point, one you thought was bound to burst any minute. 

you sigh, receiving your herbs and paying for what the shopkeeper was owed. without a word, you slip out of the herbalists shop and start down the street.

you weren’t picking a fight with someone you didn’t need to; mizu would probably be pissed if you got hurt, somehow.

“are you too afraid to talk to me?” they laugh, striking up behind you.

“I am not afraid of you. I just don’t want to pick a fight with some prick if I don’t have to,” you narrow your eyes. “and lay a hand on me, and my husband will have you dead in seconds.”

you smirk a little, feeling confident of mizu’s protection.

“husband?” they scoff. than a devilish smirk crosses their lips, “I’m sure I could have him in seconds if I tried.”

finally having enough, you grab one of your poisoned kunai’s and tossing it toward their waist. it nipped their clothes, pinning them to the wall of a shop.

“you couldn’t have jack-shit,” you grumble,  gazing at them with fire in your eyes. 

“hmph,” they scoff, smirking. “my, what a temper. you’re the same as your father; I doubt this mystery “husband” of yours won’t stay for long.”

the comment made your heart drop.

just.. like your father..

being compared to that abusive asshole made your blood boil.

“I am nothing like my father,” you remove the kunai from her clothes, stabbing it near her head. “and I never will be.”

gently, as if not to cut too deep, you drag the kunai against her cheek. she squirms and groans in pain, the poison dripping into the cut.

you knew it was poisoned; a strong poison. It wouldn’t take long for it to set in.

you slip the kunai back into your kimono, and stride off. you make your way back to the brothel, greeting the women at the doors with bows and soft smiles.

after doing so, you make your way to mizu and ringo, settling down beside your wife on the floor.

all you could hear was a princess threatening your husband.

you quickly slid the wave motif hairpin out of your hair, launching the pin at the princesses head. 

akemi gasps, her eyes wide and her breathing heavy.

“don’t,” you raise a finger at her. ringo hands you your pin back, “talk about my husband ever again, do you hear me?”

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

a/n: mizu gifs killin’ me again 😭😭

[e-nonsense]

HI!! This is my first time requesting something specific in a long time, so forgive me if it's all over the place😭

Basicallyyyy almost the same as the reader being Selina's protoge- But minus the badass and crank up their weirdness and patheticness to a thousand

A childhood frenemies to lovers scenario 😝

Reader as a kid pretty much settled at the fact that they were "different" from other kids— and they didn't wanna conform to what society considered normal bc uhhh that's not them!!!! Maybe they even had a good chat about the Joker with it

Reader was more of a trouble maker than a villain, really. Throwing eggs at politicians, managing to stick gum on Dick's hair or Bruce's cape, stealing Jim G. glasses for the millionth time, scaring random civilians at night with shadow puppet/illusions/inventions they plant on the yard or walls..... nun too crazy! And with this, formed an odd friendship with Jason during his glory days as Robin

Though Jason was just doing his job as a vigilante, reader felt like he was the only one who understood them sometimes. And because of that, reader would sometimes do good deeds for him to see but still do their silly chaotic things😋

Until Jason died, that is

Because of this, reader didn't consider stirring up trouble when Jason isn't the one stopping them anymore and eventually uses that big brain of theirs to do random tech stuff for good use

Reader by this time is gonna be the "Smart but weird sleep deprived loser" type... chat do you see my vision...

when Jason comes back and pays them a visit, reader is so lost at first

"It's me, [name]"

"Oh whar.... ok ok uhm....."

Mf thought they were going crazy and was gonna laugh but when they realize it was real they immediately broke down— kneeling and hugging his knees as they poured pent up love confessions OUTTTTT there... y/n you crazy bitch!!!!!

(And for nsfw if you want, maybe this happens months later. Reader would be SO eager to be good for Jason, but maybe too good that Jason slowly starts to bottom as reader showers him with love through keen whispers and needy touches.

Asking, "Can I touch here?" "Can I remove this?" "Does this feel good?" Bc consent is hot asl yall missing out🙏

Reader would hold him so close, as if afraid he would slip away again and would babble their sad I love you's, his name and other praises and Jason is praying not to cum immediately because holy fuck?? You want him HOW BAD????)

Sorry if this was a lot to read😭 The voices in my head are odd like that

—☁️/ w the help of my friend♟️the og idea is from him❗️❗️ he just let my ass skedadle with this to your blog 😭

here you go anon i hope your and your friend enjoy!

[izzyspussy]

@fanficfanattic you will regret this

okay so. it wouldn't be the revenge specifically because that is its own story and i think the whole general Thing is really dependent on the characters in it (as it should be! most of the time) and the shameless characters really don't mesh well with it (as it also should be! most of the time). HOWEVER. if the characters of shameless were put into a plot/setting framework of a golden age pirate romcom with a defining theme of self actualization especially regarding gender expression and/or trauma recovery...

the milkoviches would be the ranking crew on one ship, with terry as the captain. the gallaghers are also the ranking crew on their ship, and frank is the captain. very early on in "canon" or perhaps pre-"canon" they mutiny and elect fiona as captain instead. kev and vee own a bar at a pirate port. i wouldn't pick nassau because like. that is reserved for real life and black sails. to me. maybe tortuga or maybe port royal. anyway one day the bar was owned by some guy. the next day the bar was owned by kev and vee. nobody knows how that happened. every "episode" the bar features in there is a new version given. none are ever confirmed.

i like the families knowing each other/having close enough experiences that a main relationship conflict with any of them is each not understanding that their circumstances are actually not the same (i.e. how ian can't quite grasp that being gay is a much bigger deal for mickey than it is for him; they live in the same town, they went to the same school, they're in the same tax bracket, they both have a shitty dad who hates them personally and no mom, ian was in the closet too, etc, so there's kind of this disconnect there where i think ian expects mickey's experiences of homophobia to be at least similar enough to his that it shouldn't make that much of a difference - but of course there is actually a huge gulf between a shitty dad who hates you because you were conceived through infidelity and shows it by insulting you but mostly is absent anyway and a shitty dad who is. a fucking neo nazi and organized crime boss who regularly beats you blue. and i think the same is true for other members of each family, like how fiona judged mandy, and i guess in later seasons i didn't watch [insert gallagher] says some kind of something implying gallaghers are better than milkoviches and mickey points out if that's true it's only true by an insignificant margin. not that any of that was ever textually explored because the writers weren't actually interested in exploring anything. who said that).

and also! i always love a character or characters that are famous, or infamous as the case may be, in-universe. EveryoneTM knows who the milkoviches are. EveryoneTM knows who the gallaghers are. and they each have a distinct reputation that comes with their name. and! i also like the knowing Of each other for a long time before getting to Know each other dynamic that the canonical milkovich and gallagher kids have via having gone to school together and buying (or bullying) goods and services from each other. love childhood Ugh This Guy Again to lovers waaaaayy more than childhood friends to lovers. personally. not to mention the capulet and montague vibe.

anyway so i'd want to preserve that as much as possible. so idk maybe frank and terry used to be whalers for the same company or even on the same ship, and the kids lived in an isolated island whalers' families ghetto (which would also preserve frank's and terry's frequent long absences). wait wait yes. okay. here it is i've got it.

they are employed/indebted to the same company but actually work on different ships, and they generally dislike each other because they are both supremely dislikeable, but there are limited socializing opportunities in a whaling community so they are extremely bitter frenemies because it's either that or nothing. and obviously they hate whaling because who doesn't, but terry hates it out of anger toward the company (reasonable) and frank hates it out of laziness (also reasonable tbh). anyway so at some point they start talking about mutinying and going pirate, and frank thinks they're talking shit but terry's serious. and terry's also scary and frank's a coward, so alright looks like he's going to mutiny and go pirate because he said he was going to and terry said yes he sure was.

so terry starts (drunkenly) strategizing, and his strategy is the very peak of violence. and frank is not exactly a paragon of compassion, but violence is pretty high risk and you know once you kill a guy you can never get a loan from him again. and maybe a little tiny itsy bitsy weensy ickle part of frank just doesn't want to do murder because it's murder. so for once in his pathetic little loser life he puts up a fight, kind of, and argues with terry that all that isn't necessary and it's possible to unlawfully secure a ship through other means. and he actually manages to not back down about it until terry gets too annoyed to keep the discussion going, and because he's already piss sloshed and frank is the only man he's spoken to outside of work in like twenty years, terry doesn't kick the shit out of him for being an annoying pansy or whatever and instead makes a bet with him that terry will get a ship his way and frank's way will fail. they obviously don't have any fucking money or literally anything the fuck else because they are fucking whalers, and anyway it's more to their style to bet years of service on the other's ship instead. so if frank fails to take over his ship, he and his family will be indebted to terry instead. and if terry fails to take over his ship (or doesn't have enough survivors left to sail it back), he and his family will be indebted to frank.

unfortunately, they both successfully mutiny and take control of their respective ships, so the wager is void. frank doesn't press the issue for real but he constantly bitches and moans that technically he didn't lose so terry owes him. terry makes it Well Known that if he ever runs into frank off neutral grounds and not on a job he will kill him extremely dead since, you know, technically he didn't lose so frank owes him.

anyway fast forward. the milkoviches and the gallaghers both become Big Name pirates. they make port at the same place and frequent the same bar and do business with each other, but they are ENEMIES. (i think i like port royal for this, because it was not quite as definitively a pirate port for a lot of the age, so it's more believable for the bar to be neutral ground that terry would actually honor since offending the colonials that also hang out there would ruin it for everyone - and most importantly would fuck up his business in addition to putting a black mark on his reputation.)

okay so. positions. terry is the captain. they don't have a quartermaster at all because terry is a tyrant and won't allow it. mickey is the closest they've got, as the only one who is brave, angry, and informed on everything enough to occasionally challenge terry. don't get it twisted, it's definitely not often. the general rule of the ship is that everyone is subservient to terry and nobody looks out for each other in a way that might get in terry's way. but just. every now and then, mickey will make a fuss about something or redirect terry's anger (sometimes he ends up as a whipping boy in the latter case, but never intentionally. yet! ☝️). mandy is also brave and angry enough to challenge terry, and she does sometimes, but she's at an extra disadvantage because she is not informed or (pseudo-)respected like mickey is. yet.

his official position is bosun, but really mickey is a jack of all trades. he does a little bit of everything, and is the understood second in command despite terry not allowing for a real quartermaster or first mate. mickey keeps the inventory, ensures that everyone gets their correct percentage of rations and loot shares, assigns whatever duties terry couldn't be assed to, and carries out discipline for whatever offenses terry doesn't take personally (sometimes obeying terry's orders including the method/severity of the punishment, sometimes punishing someone terry said to but didn't give specifics on how so mickey can decide that for himself, and sometimes completely of his own volition; usually the latter is either for neglecting a duty, endangering one of the milkoviches in some way, or of course something mickey took personally lol). (compare to izzy hands)

iggy is the navigator/pilot, has good control of the boat, can read currents, winds, and stars, but mickey reads the maps. he's happy with this position and is one of only two brothers who never enter into the power struggle. he likes sailing, he likes the frequent semi-solitude, and he likes not having to be involved in on-ship discipline or in making any hard choices. (compare to fang)

in what i watched the other brothers really didn't have much personality so idk about them, but they each have some level of rank/leadership over the non-milkovich crew members. one is in charge of commanding the gunners, one is in charge of commanding raiders, etc. mickey will give them a general "this is what terry wants" guideline and mostly leave them to it unless what terry wants is something particularly (and needlessly) dangerous, in which case he does his best to give them more specific orders that will hopefully lose less crew without them getting pissed off he's stepping on their toes, which would of course make them make the situation worse out of spite/power display.

mandy is the cook/surgeon when terry is around, but she's a strategist and raid leader when mickey's in charge (compare to roach) - which happens because the milkoviches have a fleet, mostly just due to their reputation and the fact less established pirates and sometimes merchants will surrender once the flag goes up and bargain to be annexed into terry's command rather than slaughtered (which works maybe. 30% of the time), and terry is so power hungry and paranoid that he can't stand to let any of the other captains in the fleet actually captain one of his ships for too long at a time. he's always going from ship to ship just to undermine his captains and exert his own power over each crew, leaving mickey to head the flagship.

mickey ends up with all the responsibilities of a captain but not much respect; everyone knows he's not the real dad boss and he has to fight for every single order he gives. the real reason(s) he's the understood second in command is because 1: nobody else wants to be that close to terry (again, compare to izzy hands lol) and 2: none of his brothers are as (realistically) ambitious as he is (they want power but aren't aware of or willing to put in the work to gain/maintain it + they don't jump on opportunities as fast, etc). so nobody ever calls mickey 'captain' or 'sir' or anything else that denotes or implies a higher rank, both to keep him cut down and out of superstition that terry will somehow Know and take offense to anyone except him being given even that much authority.

and of course all of the milkoviches including mandy are general enforcers of the milkovich rule on the flagship. they all participate in mutiny-busting, routine intimidation, etc. and they all give unofficial punishments for insults or just for pissing them off. manny, who i assumed is an uncle and have no interest in being corrected on if i'm wrong, is a fence.

sveta (and yevgeny) would be included Later as a prostitute working at a brothel near port, with the same general Circumstances of Meeting mickey (and ian) as in canon, marrying mickey for financial/social status reasons while he's forced (which i kind of assume is the canonical situation since she seemed genuinely happy on their wedding day), and then the same plotline of mickey having a problem with her madame but instead of the madame turning all the girls out she gets killed by definitely mickey for sure ("i kill, you take credit." "why the fuck would you not want credit?" "don't want precedent you kill boss get promotion when i will be boss." "..." "you should be happy, this give me good reason to not kill you." "...jesus, you fit right in with this fucking family.") and svet buys the brothel property under mickey's name (since she can't legally own it herself) and becomes the new madame while he keeps pirating, so now he (and mandy) has somewhere to go separate from other milkoviches while at port where he can actually fucking relax for once in his fucking life. & ig if you really want sandy to be here she can be a fence too, but tbh if i ever do write anything in this fandom again i have no intention to include her or any other characters introduced past season four :)

on the gallagher ship frank is captain for a while, at least in name. he is usually both drunk and seasick in addition to his natural laziness and inability to work with others, so a lot of the time he doesn't even try to captain and lets fiona handle it without interference. every now and then he gets some kinda fucking bug up his ass and goes banging on about his rightful authority or whatever and sends them on some deeply stupid and pointless farce and/or will say they're doing something and then give orders that absolutely will not accomplish that thing. for a while, the gallaghers follow along with this, then they start just not obeying him/quietly belaying his orders to other crew, then they start telling him directly they're not going to do what he wants, then actively preventing him from giving orders in the first place (usually fiona locks him up, or lip knocks him out, and debbie got to knock him out once too, but if it ends up being left to ian he'll do something more creative and lowkey humiliating like shoving a gun rag into frank's mouth or dunking his head in the pickle barrel), and then finally they officially commit mutiny and kick him off the ship entirely.

the gallagher ship doesn't include any extended family. no aunt ginger, no uncle clayton, no whoever the fuck else was in there. their non-gallagher crew is all the mentioned neighbors and etc that they're friendly with in canon, minus kev and vee.

fiona is captain, lip is quartermaster, ian is navigator and he likes to correct and expand maps and has big dreams of going straight (ha ha) and becoming a chartered cartographer/expedition leader. lip and ian also lead raids. carl is the master gunner. debbie is officially bosun but has a pretty in between job. she assigns shifts and chores and supervises and all that, but she doesn't ever handle discipline, and she also does the more i guess administrative is the best way to put it quartermaster duties that lip is too bored by to do. she also is always on the up with the rumors and can typically be relied on to know who's who and where they are (*mickey mouse meme* this is a tool that will help us later).

liam is the surgeon. several non-gallagher crew members think he's a witch because he is way ahead of his time wrt medicine (simply because he treats based on evidence lol) and because he so very rarely talks. he has no strong opinion on this perception as it usually doesn't interfere with his ability to do his job and often keeps strangers from approaching him uninvited (the boy. is autismal. and also has selective mutism. which really should be called something else by now but i digress).

ian knows all the myths and legends, though he doesn't really believe any of them, and frequently regales the crew with them. lip doesn't really like the stories because he suffers from a whimsy deficiency, but when he has the patience for it he'll back ian up on the lute (Later, mickey will play for ian too, or sometimes for his girls to sing/dance to).

so the milkoviches and the gallaghers both use port royal as their port of call, and they both spend a lot of time in kev and vee's bar. kev and vee are personal friends with the gallaghers, but as said their bar is neutral ground so they keep civil relationships with literally anyone who abides by that neutrality, including the milkoviches, other pirates, merchants, fishers, pirate hunters, naval officers, natives, colonials, anyone as long as they pay their tab and don't cause trouble.

sheila and karen are merchant class but seem like gentry to ex-whalers, especially since actual gentry nearly never deign to go somewhere so close to the docks, and even tho technically after a while being quite successful pirates they are richer in terms of material wealth (but still not in social wealth). karen loves to come to the bar whenever she hears pirates are in town. she loves the thrill of the baddest boy a bad boy can be (and also the thrill of bad girls who are proud about it), and she loves the attention she can get when she dresses up in something classy just to go slum it with a bunch of society-fringe sailors. lip is her favorite, sure, but he gets it in his head that she's his shore wife or whatever and that she'll eventually tearfully beg him to retire and stay on land with her (extremely loud buzzer noise).

jimmysteve is a fence. and a drug runner. and a semi-pro snitch. he (in some ways, much like frank) thinks he is much cleverer than he really is and that he can play multiple sides at whim. he gets himself in trouble with the pirates for breaking neutrality, and gets himself in trouble with more than one royal navy for thinking he could snitch but only when he felt like it lmao. he somehow always manages to weasel his way out of trouble and back into good graces (again, much like frank, except frank gets his hundredth chances through pity or trickery and jimmysteve mostly just uses daddy's name and plantation money).

kash and linda are also merchant class and have a little curio shop and bakery. ian likes to do basically the opposite of karen and 'sneak' away from the lowbrow area of town that caters to sailors to shock and impress all the not-poors with how Just Like Them he is, which is how they meet and start hooking up.

but of course it IS a romcom about self actualization and. you know. comedic romance. so the Main Plot is actually just gallavich and not as much of an ensemble here.

the Plot in question happens because mandy gets sick of shit and decides she wants to just fuck off. she just has to figure out where to fucking go instead. she doesn't want to just run away. she doesn't want to be alone. the gallaghers just kind of seem like the only real choice. she knows them by reputation to be damn good pirates but as kind and generous as pirates can reasonably be. they don't torture, they don't rape, they don't hurt young kids or pregnant people, they don't kill unnecessarily (and yet all of them are still alive, so like. for Real they must be fucking good pirates), etc. she figures if she seduces one of them on the last night of their leave, they'll take her back to their ship to fuck her and then in the morning the chaos of making way will make them forget to make sure she disembarks.

she picks ian because fiona is busy with jimmysteve, lip is busy with karen, and the other three are too young for her. and also. she thinks ian is cute, and she's seen him act like a whole gentleman with her own eyes more than once. she like. actually kind of wants him. and he's sitting alone. so she goes over. at first he seems into it. he's not intimidated by her even though she knows he knows who she is. he listens to her when she talks and has relevant things to say. he's funny. he's charming. he doesn't treat her like a whore. it takes like half an hour before mandy's goal has changed from "seduce him to get onto his ship" to "fuck him so much forever and maybe have an epic romance or something". but of course when she starts really putting the moves on, he just flat out rejects her. he does it gently, but still. just a straight-up full-stop no.

so then. mandy's plan changes to "get mickey pissed off enough at this guy that he ends the stalemate and kills his whole family and then convince him to give the damn ship to her". and well, the best way to do that is to make mickey think ian hurt her (which also will later provide them all an excuse to give terry as to why they blew up his legendary status's structural support rivalry from his backstory - they started it).

so she makes a scene in the bar, and she uses some very skillful body work to make ian look like he's aggressing her - which only works on him despite him also being very skilled in that area and usually very tactically observant because he's unnerved to have been hit on so boldly by a woman.

as it happens, at least two of her brothers (notably NOT mickey himself) are in the bar when she does this, and she kind of thought that would be enough to at least start a fight if not the war she's planning to work them up to. but. they don't really do anything. maybe they cuss at ian or throw something at him or whatever to warn him off or let him know it's time to leave if he knows what's good for him, but like. they don't even get up. so now mandy is humiliated from being rejected by ian AND humiliated to have made a scene, to have publicly positioned herself as a victim, and nobody caring enough to put down their fucking grog.

so now she really doesn't know what to do. she's upset, she's embarrassed, she doesn't want to go back to her own ship almost doubly as much as when she sat down at ian's table. in the end, mandy makes it onto the gallagher ship regardless, by stowing away. she does recognize that it's their ship when she carefully tucks herself away in the farthest corner of the hold, but really... where else could she go? on any other ship she'll be treated even worse than on her own, at least in a day-to-day sense, and that's only if she manages to convince someone else to take a woman crew member in the first place. and if she's caught as a stowaway, which she inevitably will, any other crew would put her to death. when she's caught on the gallagher ship they might whip her and put her in the brig, but they won't hang her or toss her overboard, and she thinks she can probably plead her case to them given enough time. she'll just have to try to stay hidden until they're well out to sea to buy that time in distance back to port.

the only problem with this is that terry is off on another ship just now, and mickey is in charge-ish. and unlike terry, or even like some of the other brothers, mickey 1: notices when mandy doesn't board and 2: cares. he makes them wait for her, getting increasingly pissed off until he seems almost as scary as terry, until finally one of the brothers who was there steps forward to fearfully admit he saw ian gallagher mess with her.

first, mickey punishes that guy. he gives up the other brother who was there pretty easily, so mickey punishes that one too. they are both expecting a terry-level It's Personal punishment - everyone knows mandy is mickey's favorite - but it's not even quiiiiiite on the level of a mickey-level It's Personal punishment. he's not holding back on purpose, and he absolutely is taking this so fucking personally, but. they're family too. he wouldn't torture them unless they tortured him first. or made too credible of a threat that they were going to.

anyway, when that's done mickey immediately assumes ian has kidnapped mandy and is certainly forcing himself on her at this very moment, or else he murdered her for bruising his ego last night and mutilated her body so no one would know to tell mickey someone needed to be return-killed. so uh. well. mickey is officially pissed off enough that he orders the ship off course to hunt down and kill ian's whole family. and for once he's not contested on it, even though it's against terry's preceding orders, because first of all. he is so so evil right now and no one wants to breathe too loudly at him, let alone argue. and also secondly... mandy's family. none of them would want her dead unless she killed them first.

so the milkovich flagship hunts down the gallaghers, and they make no secret of it. terry catches wind, but the teller includes mandy's presumed fate at ian's hands, so he's pissed at being disobeyed and double pissed at mickey for daring to take initiative, but he approves of the reasoning enough that he decides not to catch up with them and crush them back underneath his thumb until after they've razed every last gallagher from the earth. insert atla book one style imminent redemption arc anti-villain misadventures here (perhaps even complete with manny purposely giving mick bad intel to keep him sailing around in circles lmfao).

meanwhile. mandy gets caught as a stowaway. luckily, it's ian who finds her. like in canon, he impulsively confesses that he's gay - or whatever euphemism or obsolete term they were using for that back then - and asks her to pretty please call her brothers off. mandy, having been hiding in the bowels of a ship at sea in the 18th century, had no idea that her brothers were on. whoops! together, she and ian explain a severely abridged version of what happened to fiona and convince her to let the milkovich flagship catch up to them. mandy swears up and down that her brothers won't sink the ship while she's on it, and she can convince mickey to board so she can explain before leaving the gallaghers without her presence's protection. (fiona had never had any personal beef with any of the milkoviches, beyond just thinking poorly of them as people as a whole and having a particular distaste for many of terry's best known atrocities, but now mandy is definitely on her shit list and mickey is on the thinnest of thin ice.)

so the milkoviches catch up to the gallaghers. they do some damage to the ship before they notice mandy on deck, but it's just warning shots anyway. they had every intention of exploding them into a billion pieces, but a warning shot is just the proper thing - even if you've got no plans to accept a surrender or give any time for return fire before you obliterate them into viscera and sawdust. but then it turns out mandy is right, and mickey orders an immediate (slightly panicked) ceasefire, and thoughtlessly boards when mandy asks him to even though that's objectively tactically very stupid.

as privately agreed, mandy tells mickey it was a misunderstanding. that ian hadn't actually menaced her. he'd just been clumsy with his words and actions and she'd taken offense, but he'd apologized and then she perfectly willingly went back to his berth with him where they spent the whole night thoroughly and consensually enjoying each other's company. they simply slept through the morning bells, and by the time they did wake up it would have been such a horrible inconvenience to take mandy back to port, and she'd figured mickey would have left without her by then anyway. she didn't realize it would cause such a hubub, and btw she and ian are courting now.

mickey is pissed obviously - not least because now he's going to have to face biblically apocalyptic wrath from terry - but mandy is really really his favorite, and he's relieved she's okay, and maybe he's a little bit relieved he doesn't actually have to vaporize like twenty people too but that is for absolutely fucking nobody to know up to and including mickey himself fuck you very much. so all she gets is the milkovich pirate captain version of Go To Your Room Right Now Young Lady. she is unconcerned, and offers her hand to ian so he can make a small production of gallantly kissing the back of it before she goes over the gangway.

mickey stays just long enough to give ian the milkovich pirate captain version of a shovel talk, which involves a lot of disturbing kraken imagery (it's kind of homoerotic too, but surely that doesn't mean anything haha. unless...). for some totally unknowable fucking reason, ian seems to be entertained by mickey's uh. way with words, more than he is threatened. at the end of mickey's speech he's even smiling. he offers a reasonably chilling rejoinder, and then fucking bows like he's some kind of bougie rich fuck seeing a guest out of his big bougie fucking house. fucking... dickhead. fuck.

anyway so yeah. it's so over for mickey. cooked! and soon to be stuffed and basted ;)

[killersfool]

You Might Get What You Want | ROBERT KEATING

PAIRING: robert keating x original f!character

GENRE: childhood frenemies to lovers

SUMMARY: lucia (luz), nieve ella’s keyboardist, has an estranged history with inhaler—especially with the band’s bassist, bobby. their fiery hatred for eachother rapidly blossoms into something sweet, especially when she learns that he wrote a song about her.

WORDS: 5.8k

WARNINGS: kissing, swearing, alcohol use, mild sexual content

Being Nieve Ella's keyboardist has completely altered the course of my life. Only eight months ago, I was doing my second year of uni, trying to get through a Music course and completely regretting all of my life choices. My favourite part of the day would be getting home and sitting at my piano, writing songs and posting them on Tiktok. Views racked up, followers kept coming in and I think I realised how well everything was going when Laufey commented on my cover of 'Like The Movies'. Then about two weeks later, an email shot through my phone—literally like a bullet to skin. I dropped the rectangular device to the ground mid-lecture, hand on my mouth, teeth in my lip. 

Nieve Ella had asked me to join her on tour. With Inhaler.

At first I was laughing, then I was bawling with endless tears of happiness and now I'm on my final show still feeling woozy and adrenaline is banging through my brain. The whole band have become my best friends. And, quite shockingly, me and Inhaler have a weird shared history. I've known them since I was really young. I used to watch their first gigs at tiny venues where they'd run around in the crowd and hardly anyone knew the lyrics. I went to the same school as Bobby, Eli and Ryan who were a bunch of madmen. They'd let me hang out with them backstage or at practice and jam before they finally found a 'proper' keyboardist (Louis). To be honest, I'd always been slightly salty that I never got into the band. But I guess we were never close enough and I could be quite horrible to Bobby — but honestly, he deserved it. He was a whiny, teenage nightmare. Still is. Except he's not a teenager anymore.

Thankfully, Nieve Ella and the band take a train separate to Inhaler. I don't have to hear Bobby's jests 24/7.  Today we're heading to Dublin. The final stop of the Cuts and Bruises tour. It's been a long ride but it's all been worth it. I've had the best time ever. I'm listening to the Strokes, a song Bobby recommended to me a few weeks ago. It's been on my mind ever since and I can't stop hearing the same chords and riffs over and over. Even when my headphones leave my ears. The song is 12:51 and funnily enough Bobby has a tattoo right on his bicep with those exact numbers. The lads gave us a rather enjoyable tattoo tour with reasons for each of their inked designs. 

I lay back my head against the cushioned seat.  I like this, I prefer it to what I was doing before. The constant stress, the exams,  the structure. I like the freedom of doing shows and seeing new people and travelling to new places. Never sure what you're in for. Crowd after crowd with all different energies and enthusiasm. The adrenaline rush is the best part of the day but when you wake up the following morning, it's like the life has been sucked out of you. You feel like nothing. Human. A person with legs and arms. Flailing around with no thoughts in your head. A billion times worse than a hangover. Post concert depression.  The lull after such a powerful high. It's nice to go through that hell with a group of friends who all feel the same way. Becomes a strange group therapy.

For the past hour, I've been begging Josh to tell me what is on the set list. I'm praying they'll add some different songs. Older ones. Seeing as it's the last show of the tour. Something to surprise the fans. Maybe 'Falling In' or 'There's No Other Place' or even my favourite 'You Might Get What You Want'. That was one that was written when Rob was the lead singer of the band. When I'd bang the keys in that garage. When we'd sing the lyrics together and sound like an awful church choir. I never got the chance to listen to it live, performed properly by the band. I'm still heartbroken they didn't leave it on the track list for the album. I have to resort to listening to illegal Spotify versions. 

I feel like crying everytime I remember this is the last show I might ever do with Inhaler. The last time I might see the lot of them. They'll surely disappear off into the shadows once tour is over, making their next album, cutting off all contact to focus solely on their music. After spending so much time with a group of people, then completely losing them from your life, you just feel so very empty. Like a swimming pool with no water. Or a mug of tea left hollow after spilling it all by accident. Last night — I would never dare to admit this to anyone — I cried for two hours straight into the pillow of my hotel room. Tour is a glorious thing. Fun, exciting, terrifying all at the same time. But the thought of finality is what split me into pieces, broke me up and squeezed tear after tear from my eyes.

Fran keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows like she's about to ask a question. She's scribbling on her set list, making sure she knows exactly what's happening and when. Her earrings twinkle as she tilts her head, her eyeliner sharp and perfect. Her mouth parts the slightest bit to reveal white teeth, a small smile. "You alright there, Luz?"

God, anytime someone asks me that, it makes me want to cry ten times more. I look down the train compartment, stare at the bathroom and decide whether to make my move. Do I run and hide in there for the duration of the trip, two hours of crying into mouldy train toilet paper? Or do I try to brave it and tell her how I feel? Or just lie through gritted teeth? She's good at reading me. She'll know that I'm not telling the truth.

"Don't tell Nieve this but I feel like absolute shite." There it is. I said it. Fire sinks into my skin, blood rushes up to my head. I squeeze my cheek to make sure I am actually sitting here and that I'm not hallucinating. Lack of sleep had made me seem some weird shit. I need caffeine. Quick.

"We all do." Fran puts her hand on top of mine. "Look, one more show, then we can sleep for as long as we want."

"That's the thing. I don't want this to end."

Fran gets up from her seat and swivels around the table. She sits down beside me, arms opening up and embraces me until I think I see stars. No one has ever hugged me so tightly. My bones seem to audibly shift. 

"Nieve's doing a few shows in February, remember? And I'm sure next time Inhaler tours, they'll be on their hands and knees begging for us to come back." She strokes my hair. "Although, Bobby might be telling us to bugger off instead. You two need to sort out this drama. It's driving us all mad."

"He started it." I sound like a three-year-old irritated at my brother. 

Fran laughs to herself. "Fucking hell. I bet he did." 

—

Arguing. It's happened again. Our last day together has gone to a great start.

First stop of the day—a random restaurant that Ryan dragged us to. Hugs were shared, kind words uttered, teeth glowing under dim lights. I sit down on a wooden chair, peel my jacket from my body and place it on the back. The cool wind is slamming against the windows. I'd forgotten how cold Dublin was. Especially in November. Some Christmas lights adorn the streets and pubs are lively with masses of people. We were stopped a only once on the way there by a group of fans—even our attempt at scuttling through empty alleyways didn't work when five friends with Inhaler-themed cowboy-hats impeded our trail. They were lovely. Photos taken and compliments exchanged. Sadly, Bobby was in a bad mood. When I say a bad mood, I mean a 'I want to kill everyone on this planet and throw myself on a train track' kind of bad mood. He hid away from the fans, behind me and Nieve. His height wasn't particularly helpful in that instant. The blonde, 'Amelie', had said in her thick French accent, "Is that Bobby? I was wondering where he was."

Caught. Found. He thought staying there for a while longer would make them think he wasn't there at all. Amelie was persistent, however, and said softly, "Please could I take a picture with you?" 

Her friends all started whispering. Eli was tapping his friend on the shoulder to get him to move. He was frozen. Eli frowned and shook his head. 

"Sorry but Rob's being a bit weird today," Josh explained. "I don't think he wants any photos."

Amelie nodded, but the sadness in her eyes was apparent. "That's okay."

I felt bad for the girl. I turned around, looked at Bobby. He was on his phone. Scrolling through Tiktok still crouched down. A quick look at his phone screen showed me that he was watching edits — edits of himself. I had to take a double take to actually believe what I'd just seen. He was staring at clips of himself, smiling, and wouldn't even stand for five seconds next to a girl who'd paid to see his band. He continued to swipe his thumb against the screen, blue eyes lit up by his bright phone.

Then his eyes caught mine and he closed the Tiktok tab. "You didn't see that, did you?" He worriedly spoke so unbelievably quickly, I had to scramble my brain to decipher the words. His smile flipped upside down. Shock written all over him. Blush rising right up to the tips of his ears. 

"The hell is wrong with you?" I muttered. Nieve heard. She stepped away. She did not want to be involved in whatever the two of us were plotting. 

"What's wrong with me?" He breathed. It's like he was asking himself the question but there was an unyielding harshness to his voice, raspy and agitated. I was sure that this argument was going to be just as bad as the Sid Vicious incident, or worse. Halloween Bobby was on a different wavelength — bordering on depravity.

"You're watching fucking Tiktok edits of yourself. Didn't think you could be that self-centered—"

"Can we not do this now? Please?" Bobby tried to get me to calm down. Amelie and her friends were still only metres away, asking Josh about the tour, about the next album. Fran was listening in. She was smiling to herself. Part of her definitely enjoyed the beef between us. 

"Show me your Tiktok."

"No."

"Now."

He sighed. I grabbed his phone, opened Tiktok straight away. His whole 'For You' page was edits of himself. The account he was on was a fake user account. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"What the hell..." Was all I could manage to say.

"I can explain."

"Can you? Go on then."

He didn't say anything. Took his phone back and kicked the brick wall beside him. He shook his phone around like he was going to throw it as well. That wouldn't change anything. I'd seen the worst of it — at least I hoped I'd seen the worst of it.

"Take that photo with those girls and I'll shut up about this." I gave him an option. A way to let him get out of the hole he'd dug for himself. 

He was so tall. Sometimes I forgot that. But there, back straight, no longer slouched and his neck craned to meet my eyes. I couldn't hold eye contact. His clenched jaw was making me nervous. 

"Fine." He finally concluded the argument with a single word. His index finger then pointed towards me, just beneath my neck. "But you don't tell anyone about this."

I grinned. "I promise." 

Stepping over towards Amelie, he smiled widely, put an arm over her shoulder and allowed Fran to take the picture of the group. Moments later he was complaining about his shoes. How they were too small. If Robert Keating had a chance to complain about anything, he'd take it and wouldn't shut up about it. I just knew at that point that we'd be hearing about his shoes for the rest of the day.  

Tension is thick in the restaurant. I can almost taste it in my mouth. Rob sits beside me. I don't want to look at him, don't want to hear him talk, don't want to have anything to do with him. He's only the only person I won't miss once this tour is over.

Before anyone can get a word out, Eli taps his fork against his glass. All eyes fall to him. Grace is next to him, she's appeared out of nowhere. 

"I just want to say thank you to Nieve, Fran, Lucia, Finn and Matt for being such great openers on our tour. We're so grateful for all of you. This wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Aw, Eli, I might cry a bit, please stop." Nieve shakes her head, holding her napkin to her eyes. "This has been such a dream. We should be thanking you for giving us this opportunity."

"We need to do this again sometime." Ryan pitches in. "Next time we tour, you're coming with us."

"Yeah. That would be grand," Josh exclaims, pulling up his pint of Guinness and crashing it against everyone else's.

Bobby, after all his hours of complaining, has gone back to silent, angry mode. Playing around with his fork, he stares blankly at the menu, fingers tracing the lettering. I watch him as the others melt into conversation. I just want to know what is going through his head. Why is he acting like this? Last week, he was fun to be around and we had a good time. Especially when he's drunk, he loosens up a bit and stops with the facade. He even kissed me once. As a joke. I think.

It was a mess of alcohol. A 'midnight tour bus party'. We were in London and instead of going to the hotel, we ended up spending the night in the lovely green tour bus. We all got so drunk we could hardly speak. I can't remember all that we got up to but when we were sobering up, Bobby dragged me outside of the bus. He gave me his jacket, placed it over my shoulders. We sat down on a random doorstep, hugging each other to keep warm. Two penguins. Two people who usually hated eachothers guts, finding comfort in the warmth that emanated from our bodies. I'd never thought his hair was nice until that moment. How it grazed over my neck. How the curls twisted perfectly and his overgrown mullet framed his face. Or how pretty his eyes were as they shone under streetlights. Dreamy, long eyelashes, sea-like waves. He'd kissed me. His long fingers over my cheeks. His pink lips slotting between mine. I pulled away, shocked. Electricity had sparked between us, my heart was pounding, my body was a torch. Then I ran away from him. I couldn't understand what If just felt. I had never seen him in that way. We never mentioned it again.

Maybe that's what has made him colder. I still haven't acknowledged what happened that night. I keep thinking that he was too drunk to even remember it, but maybe he does. I'm not going to bring it up. Especially now. Especially in this restaurant with everyone sat with us.

"I'm sorry, Lucia."

My heart drops. Bobby is looking at me. Downcast. Entire state is disjointed. His mouth just said that, his brain just formulated those words. 

"What?" I must've heard him wrong. Imagining it. This time I must be hallucinating.

"I'm sorry about that night."

Mindreader. He knew what I was thinking about. What my mind has been lingering on. The weather reminds me, his scent reminds me, his hands remind me, his jacket reminds me. That night. London. The night after Troxy. The wind — cut-throat, sharp, steely — the rain, and my tear-stained bedsheets. The taste of his mouth and the dejction locked into his eyes as I left him. Like I'd made a terrible mistake. Like running into my hotel room, alone, was the worst possible option I could've chosen. 

I'm wearing the same earrings as I did that night — these ribbon ones that a fan made for me. Bobby had pointed them out — which he shifted between his fingertips and said they suited me. He's eyeing them now, hands curving, resisting any urge to touch them again, to drag us back to that moment. 

The waiter takes my order. Bobby's words properly forage the depths of my mind, the veins and the arteries circling around my body, the aching crevices of my heart. I ask for the first thing I see on the menu and a Fanta. I want to stay sober. I want to savour all that will happen beyond this second. Bobby also doesn't get alcohol. Shockingly. The Bobby I know would never turn down a pint of Guinness. But he gets a 7up instead and takes a long, hard gulp of it when the waiter comes back. I'm counting the cracks on the table, how squeaky the chair is, the coffee stain on the ceiling — trying to guess how they managed to get up there. Musicians like to occupy their brains. They don't like to think too much - just do. 

"I'm sorry..." I whisper. Finally giving him a reponse after a long pause for thought. 

He had been waiting for an answer. He catches it. Twists uneasily in his seat. Wood creaks. Rain patters.

"...It was wrong of me to leave you." The image of his despair still rings through my bones. I swear when my cells divide they keep trying to recreate that look on his face.

"I shouldn't have..." his voice lowers, heat pf his mouth glides by my ear "...kissed you."

I'm trying to drink my Fanta with no reaction. Sugary greatness. Cold, slightly wet fingers. Orangey flavouring. But his voice is so low, trickling, burning, goosebump-inducing. I can't look at him. He's too close to me. It's too hot in the restaurant. Soundcheck is in 20 minutes. I want to run away again. I always want to run away. 

Down my Fanta, smooth my skirt, breathe in deeply. 

"I liked it." I similarly glide my lips over his ear when he's least expecting it, returning the favour.

He coughs. Chokes a bit on his drink. Then he eats his Pesto pasta with the pinkest neck I've ever seen on a person. Jacket off to reveal long, tattoo-covered arms, and the muscles that have progressively been getting bigger over the months. I join Ryan and Matt's drummer conversation to stop staring. It's weird. Being attracted to him feels wrong. Teenage Lucia would be ashamed. She’d slap some sense into me.

Dinner ends quickly. We're thrusted back into Dublin air before we can even adjust to the complete switch in environment. Running to the venue, through alleyways, shooting splashes of water all over the place, we realise how late we are. I feel better than I did in the morning. That dreaded train ride. Bobbys giving me the silent treatment again. I hate it. I hate it more than when he's being downright horrible to me. 

-

Our set was unbelievable. The best show I've ever done. The crowd was unreal, the size of the place was absurd. We had never sounded so great. Everything went according to plan. We're crying now that we're offstage. We need something to uplift us. Nieve's idea is to party in the back. Which is one of the best parts of the night.

We find a spot just before Inhaler goes on. Screams bleed through the room, adoration written in teenage faces, phones held up to capture the moment. The five lads on stage. One final time. I scream like I'm sixteen all over again, dancing as the first song 'These Are The Days' begins to play. Shouting along, throwing my hands in the air. I don't think I've ever been so happy and fulfilled before.

The setlist is the usual. I didn't expect them to change it. Eli gives a little 'thank you' speech, mentioning us at the end. Then suddenly encore starts and I'm met by a mildly unfamiliar song. The crowd seems just as confused as I am. Bobby is wearing that stupid black vest and I swear his bass has been lowered all the more. The next time they perform, it'll surely be grazing the floor. 

Bobby doesn't normally speak to the crowd at shows. It's always Eli. But as they play the intro, he begins to speak, "Hi everyone. Hope you're all having a good time." Commotion, screams, chanting 'Bobby' as if it's a cult gathering, not a concert. His eyes are searching through the crowd. The party in the back turned into moshpits and luckily I got pushed near to the front. His eyes land on mine. I can tell he's looking at when he plays with his earring — like it's a code between us. He keeps playing the same few notes on the bass lazily as he grabs the mic stand. Everyone is silent and listening as he says, "This is 'You Might Get What You Want'.

I recognise it now. I'm sent back to high school. 6 years ago. Practice room at school. Instrument cases strewn all over tha place, broken drumsticks leant against the wall. I'm sat at the piano as Bobby announces, "This is a new song I wrote." He passes me the chords starts singing. My thoughts are quiet. The external world is too loud for me to think. I'm lost in the music. The song is beautiful — lyrics, chords, arrangement, Bobby's voice. That was the day when I wanted to ask to join the band. Then Bobby was horrible to me so I changed my mind. I even asked him what the song was about. He looked at the Jim Morrison poster on the door, hand against his buzzed head as he thought up a response. "A girl," was his final conclusion. I thanked him for his specificity. He told me, quite frustratedly, it was 'none of my business'. Then he was riled up and told me to leave because I was 'playing it all wrong'. One of the last times I ever played with the band. So when I hear the song again — I'm back, sitting at the piano with my school uniform, waiting for cues to play the next chord.

The crowd goes wild at the fact that Bobby is singing alone. This is unusual. The majority of the crowd don't know the song. Reminds me of their first gigs in tiny venues. I sing along, staring at Bobby as he stares back. I wonder which girl the song was actually about. At seventeen, he hung out with every girl in sight - parties, random town meetups, gigs. The way he is looking at me is shattering me down to my core — eyes painted with affection and how he keeps moving his earring. For some reason, I wish the song is about me. Then he sings, 'You Might Get What You Want' whilst pointing right at me. Has anyone else noticed his staring? Nieve and Fran seem clueless. It could all be in my head. His face appears on the screen. I stare. Not ashamed. Appreciating his beauty for as long as we have left. Only tonight. Then nothing. Only the possibility of seeing eachother once again. It won't be set in stone.

I'm a sweaty mess by the end of the show. Last goodbyes, last waves, last shocked stares at the extent of the crowd. I always forget how boiling it gets in the standing area. I'm almost at the point of suffocating. We leave with the crowd, taking a few selfies with fans along the way. I stand in the merch queue. I need something to remember this. Something I can keep and wear and just be brought back to this venue, to this atmosphere. I buy a black tour shirt with the bubbly lettering, slipping it over my tank top. I just know the change in temperature will murder me. The more layers I have on, the better.

We slip through the crowd. Thankfully, it's quieter after my long time in the merch queue. I'd never seen such a long amalgamation of people. 

Back at the hotel, I crash straight down onto my bed. Don't even turn on the lights or take off my clothes. I just close my eyes and stretch out my body like a cat. It all happened too quickly. I left the band early to head back, although I heard the rest of them were going to the tour bus to get drunk. I've already had so much fun. I just need to relax. Alone time. Silence. Comfort.

A knock on the door.

I jump up. Still in my Inhaler shirt and lacy white skirt, I feel like taking a shower. But whoever just knocked has impeded any plans. I could just pretend I didn't hear them. I could fall asleep and they'll just walk away. 

Another knock. I jolt up this time. It's louder.

This time I reach the door. Sliding the keyhole open, I see him. Of course it's him. Of course. Of all the people that could be here right now. His hair is wet, mussed up. He's holding his jacket under his arm as it's completely drenched. Looking from side to side, he seems to contemplate giving up and leaving me solitary.

I open the door. Let my guard down. I want to talk. Rant. Let out all the garble mixing up and stuffing my skull. He'd listen to me. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I don't say it rudely. Make sure to keep my tone quiet and curious. The rise of his head to meet my eyes is almost film-like, tracing along my skin, photographic.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in then." 

Close the door behind him. He drops his jacket onto the floor. Slides off those shoes with a groan. They really are too small on him. He can hardly untie the laces without sucking in a quick breath. He looks at himself in the dodgy mirror, trying to fix any flying pieces of hair. His beard is growing a little — little moustache fading in above his mouth.

He sits down on a chair by the table.  His lengthy legs reach up to the end of the bed where I'm sat. He picks up a tea bag, sniffs it then puts it back. I'm worried about what he's about to say. He looks like he's gone through hell and back to get here. I've never seen him so dishevelled. 

"You were amazing today." I hate the silence. I fill it up. "You all get better every time."

He's been so serious since he came in but the ghost of a smile haunts his lips. They twitch then fall. "So do you."

“Is this about your weird For You page because I’m pretty fucking worried.” I’m trying to forget I saw any of those edits. 

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head. He's hugging his chest, arms shivering. My eyes narrow. Each hair on his arm is stood to attention.

"Do you want a blanket?" I'm about to look for something to warm him up when his hand clasps around my wrist. He's stood up. I'm sat down, looking up at him. His thumb traces the inside of my wrist, over a bracelet I have. One that he gave me when I was sixteen. A friendship bracelet he'd brought to one of the rehearsal sessions. I wore it just to get a reaction out of him. This is the first time he’s noticed it. 

I want to ask him what he's doing. But then he's sat next to me with his arms around my body and I forget what I was going to say. 

"Robert..." I don't normally say his full name. It's the only word that's coming to mind. His wet hair is dripping all over my skirt, his head is against my chest, he won't look up at me.

When I pick up his face, stretch my hands over his cheeks, I find his crystal eyes glossed over. Tears. He's crying. I don't know how to react. He buries his head back into the crook of my neck like he's embarrassed. Then he's breathing heavily. Heaving. Sniffling.

"What is it?" I whisper. I stroke every inch of his hair, the nape of his neck, the thin material of his vest. I trace the tattoos on his arm. Finally landing on the music notation inked into his wrist.

"I don't want you to leave." He holds onto my waist, under my shirt, cold skin. "Stay here. With me. Please."

I wipe the tears from his face. I must look like a beetroot. I'm boiling. 

"Really?" I think I'm crying as well. I can't help it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him so unguarded, so helpless.

"I only sang that song so you'd hear it." He looks up at the ceiling, cogs turning in his brain. "It's not just about a girl. It's about you."

"You're kidding." I have to laugh. 

"I'm not. I wrote it during the summer holidays before high school. I had some weird thought that you were going to call me and ask me out. I was always a prick to you so I don't know where that idea was coming from exactly. It's just when you want something so badly—I guess your brain manifests it into reality. Like every time I turned around a corner, I thought you'd magically appear. I thought you'd say that you liked me. But then you went off to Uni, the band got big. And now this. You're in fucking Nieve Ella's band. I thought I was going to throw up when I saw you get out of the train. Everything just came back. I didn't put the song on the album because every time I hear it, I just remember what an idiot I am for not treating you well and for not telling you how I feel. Singing it brought me back to the practice room, to that shitty piano with pedals falling off the hinges. How you made such a disgusting piano sound divine. I don't want to make the same mistake. If I let you go now, I'll be regretting it for the rest of my life."

"So you were looking at me? When you were singing?" I tilt my head, thumb below his eye. 

"I might have been." He's not crying anymore. His voice is less rough. He sounds like normal Bobby again.

"I'll stay with you. As long as you want."

"Forever?"

"Bit too long. I can only deal with you for about three hours at a time."

"Then we should make good use of the—" He looks down at his watch. "—Two hours and 43 minutes we have left."

"What do you have planned?" I'm getting closer to him. His nose bumps against mine.

"What do you want to do, Luz?" He's challenging me. Thumb swirling over my lips. 

"This." I kiss him. Lips to lips. Two notes in perfect harmony. Everything we've been through culminating into one simple kiss. It's a peck. A tease. I pull away as I feel him yank me closer. 

His hands find my ears and it's like that night again. His mouth tastes the same. Sweet. Lukewarm. He still grazes my bottom lip with his teeth when he feels me shift back. 

"You're an angel," he says.

At that, I'm kissing him again. This time with more passion. Exploding fireworks. Jumping into the ocean, water floating around you. The ringing in your eyes after an explosion. An earthquake. A tidal wave. So many feelings at once. He's trying to take my shirt off. I let him. Pulled it over my head so quickly I thought he might get my neck off as well. He throws it onto the nearby chair, looking at me, with those glimmering eyes and perfect eyebrows. Beauty spots and smooth skin. I attempt to take off his shirt too, although it's pretty much stuck to his chest. He helps me out, laughing at my stress. 

"It's not that hard." He smirks, tugging at the top as I manage to unstick the bottom. 

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes. 

He pushes me down onto the bedsheets, helping me up until my head is on the pillow. I look over his frame. Long torso, large biceps, chain around his neck. It's too much to deal with. Hooded eyes, smirk on his lips, happy trail leading down to his belt. He knows how he's making me dizzy. He leans down, curling over me, scent hanging, cool skin against mine. I throw my head back. I've never been touched like this. So precise. So gentle. Like I'm his favourite bass guitar. I'd never noticed how long his fingers were until they were splayed over my bra, until the other hand was sliding up my thigh.

He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones, the valley between my breasts, tongue flat, teeth sharp. I hold onto his hair, then onto his toned shoulders. This morning, I would never have expected that this would happen. That the boy I loathed was admiring me and tasting me with unrelenting adoration. Now, the thought of leaving him makes me sick to my stomach. I pull him a little closer, kiss him a little harder and remember just how red teenage Bobby's face was after he'd sang that song to me. How defensive he was when I asked him about it. Now it all makes sense.

I won't ever leave him again.

[peterparkouryo]

lies between us | *ੈ✩‧₊˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

prompt: You and Peter have been frenemies for as long as you can remember.

warnings: fluff, banter, confessions, flirty peter cus why not, typos maybe, no kissies this chapter :(

word count: 3.4k

a/n: still very much in the bahamas but i felt very bad, also pls ignore how trash this is i'm so focused on my vacation lmaoo

"MJ, it hasn't even been a day." 

MJ rolls her eyes, completely ignoring your words as she opens her textbook to the given page the teacher assigned.

"Knowing you, it'll take until the deadline to get this project done." She glares at you, breaking her attention away from the textbook in front of her.

"It's better to procrastinate than to do it as soon as it's assigned." You shrug, scooting close to her as she subtly furthers your bodies apart, you pout at the action.

"I don't understand how or why I managed to get you as a partner of all people." MJ sighs and you show her a sarcastic smile.

"It's cause we're soulmates." You joke, removing yourself from her bed to look around her room curiously.

Despite the two of you being (best) friends for the better part of two years, you had never been in her room. Whenever you did come over, she always insisted the two of you hung out in the living room or spent your hang out time in the city, so it really surprised you that the girl drags you into her room the minute you step inside for a project you had been assigned.

Her room amazed you and had been everything you expected from the girl given her closed off, dark, and sharp-eyed personality. MJ being the advocate reader she was, had tons of books (some which you had borrowed), posters of subjects that mattered to her, and pretty much anything you would least expect to be in a girl's room, not that it bothered you.

When you first met MJ, she was very closed off and it took a lot of hard work on your end to break down her walls just to get to know her. It still surprises you (herself included) and a lot of people who knew of MJ and were aware of your friendship how you of all people managed to crack her shell and squeeze your way into her tight circle of friendship.

"No, but you and Peter are, which is why I'm still confused about how you aren't his partner, you two are perfect for each-other." You break your gaze away from the small box on her desk to glare at her words, the girl not sparing you a glance.

"MJ." You warned.

"What did I say?" She asked in faux innocence, bringing her eyes to meet your annoyed expression. 

"I'd much rather partner up with Flash than ever be in the presence of Peter Parker, and that's saying a lot." You tell her, crossing your arms over your chest, walking back over to her bed.

"Weren't you two just friends yesterday?" MJ asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You stay silent, not giving the girl an answer, thinking upon her words. You settled for an eye roll as your answer.

"Right, I still have no idea how you two aren't a thing. It's almost painfully obvious you like each-other." The girl tells you, her attention on the textbook now, leaving you exasperated, digesting her words in your brain.

You and Peter have been sort of friends for a good half of your childhood, almost best friends if you thought too hard about it. You two were inseparable when in grade school up until the end of your middle school years. It happened a little too fast, your fallout was over something incredibly stupid (Peter's words, not yours), and to you, it was a serious subject you had managed to hold off, but inevitably, you couldn't take it anymore.

That something stupid being about his lack of care for your feelings, continuing without awareness to break your heart when it came to things the two of you planned, and at the last minute cancelling them for whatever that reason may be.

The excuses he gave you were half ass, so when it came time for an event you two planned, it wasn't a surprise when he said he couldn't make it, saying something about May needing him last minute or anything that deemed unbelievable.

The fact that Peter had the audacity to call your argument "incredibly stupid" when you had finally had the courage to confront his lies made your blood boil in the anger you tried so hard to keep at bay. It evidently did end your friendship for a short amount of time, and it was you who eventually apologized to him in your freshmen year of high school, because truth be told, you did miss him.

Though when your friendship was in mist of healing itself from its long deprived attention, he continued with the same broken promises he said he would plan to fix, your plans going undone because as always, he would cancel last minute.

Peter's excuses did get more believable, you'll give him that, but it didn't change the fact that it still happened. You only wished he'd be honest with you with whatever it was he did that had him abandon you when you knew he was aware of how excited you would always be whenever you two had plans to hangout.

This was an ever ongoing habit he did, which led to your on and off again friendship for what is now three years deep. You were glad when Peter introduced you to his decathlon team, allowing you to meet MJ, who, dare you say is a much more promising friend than Peter would ever be.

Not that the two of you are friends, not even best friends, but sometimes you can tolerate him on your good days when he wasn't being a borderline idiot or liar.

"I don't like Peter, like at all." You say, MJ shrugs her shoulders, and if you knew her, it was obvious she didn't believe you one bit.

"You were just making heart eyes at him yesterday, I don't wanna hear that." MJ waves off, holding her hand out, expectingly waiting for you to hand her another pencil crayon, you do with a huff.

"I hate you." You mumble, plopping down on her bed, grabbing a pencil crayon yourself.

"But you love Peter." She jokes, dodging your attempts at throwing the coloured pencil in your hand with a laugh.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Why's it always math? You hate math, and its a fact everyone who knows you, know. You were glad the decathlon team had it easy for you and made at least some units of the stupid subject understandable.

If you were on good terms with Peter, you would ask him for help, but you knew that wasn't going to be an option, anytime soon.

"Ned, what did you get for number six?" You ask the boy across from your desk, watching Ned look up at you quickly, Peter does as well.

"I'm not even past number three." Ned groans, shaking his head in defeat.

You nod, understanding his frustration. You don't know why your math teacher was out to get you, it's not like you were already failing his class, and it didn't make it better that you had other class courses to stress about either.

"I can help." Peter shows you a smile, hoping to get on your good side, all you do is glare at him.

"No." You respond, the boy's face dropping into a pout, and Ned lets out a laugh, quickly straightening his demeanour when Peter shoots him a glare.

"You're still mad at me?" Peter quizzes in confusion, putting his pencil down near his paper.

You take your time with your answer, trailing your eyes onto his paper, taking notice of his far progress. You really needed his help.

"I'm not just mad Peter, I'm furious, which is why we're not on speaking terms." You tell him, picking up your pencil just as Peter does too, with an eye roll at your words.

Ned is visibly uncomfortable, no matter how many arguments the boy has been in the middle of or witnessed between the two of you, he is always left without a say. It makes him upset you two couldn't properly work through your problems and just admit your tangible feelings for one another.

It might have something to do with that stubborn personality of yours. It was clear Peter had harboured a deep affection for you, and it goes unsaid if you liked him back or not, but given the fact you were always willing to forgive and forget, falling back into the friendship stage with Peter was a sign you might just like him as well.

"You're speaking to me right now." Peter points out, fighting back his smile when you give him a not so impressed look.

"I'm this close," You pinch your index finger and thumb together for demonstration, "To hurting you." You finish, and Peter shrugs off your words.

"You're distracting me from completing my work." The boy scolds at you in his joking manner, and you groan in annoyance, tempted to flip him off.

Both Peter and Ned laughs, and you ignore the boys, trying to figure out how to do quadric equations instead.

There's a few minutes of silence, something you're very thankful for. Eventually, Peter stands from the desk he settled in, grabbing his now finished work to turn it in. You and Ned share a look, both suffering on different problems from the same page.

When Peter returns you focus back on your work, not that you made it far, it's been a good ten minutes and now you're on number seven and Ned was on number five.

"Do you guys want to come over my house and I can help you with this worksheet?" The boy suggests, sitting back down.

"Can't, I have to help my Lola move." Ned answered, packing his things as the bell was two minutes away from ringing.

Peter nods at his best friend's words, turning his attention on you, who hadn't taken one glance at him or Ned, your gaze still on your paper.

"You can stop pretending like you're working, I know you don't understand it." Peter countered with a smirk when you roll your eyes, still not breaking your attention away from the paper.

When you don't response, Peter takes that as a sign to try and convince you a little harder, really opting to get on your good side.

He approaches you, standing next to your desk before huddling down, leaning over your figure to scan your paper.

You subconsciously scoot away from him, blocking his gaze from your paper, shielding it with your hands.

"You know, you'll have to forgive me eventually right? You always do." Peter shakes his head as the bell rings, and you grab your bag from the empty desk next to you, standing up and shoving your worksheet into Peter's chest, the boy stumbling slightly at the impact.

"Fine, but you're keeping my paper until I get there." You give in, walking pass a smiling Peter and out the classroom with an irritated mindset.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"I knew it." Peter smiles when he opens his apartment's door to you.

It took a lot of debating to be where you were now. MJ was no help either, joking about how you two were "meant to be", so it was no shocker you that you would give in.

"You have my paper, dumb ass." You tell him, pushing pass the boy and entering his apartment.

"Yeah, but you could've like, not showed up and I would had done it for you anyway." Peter argues, closing the front door before turning to face you.

You try not to dwell too hard on that logical statement, opting to shake your head at the boy instead.

"Can we please just get this over with, so I can get back to my bed?" You plead, and Peter laughs at your question.

You follow Peter to his room, taking notice of how different it was the last time you were here (two months ago to be exact). The polaroids you had taken with him a few years back laid on his desk along with other useless items, probably related to some nerdy project he always mentioned he was working on. His Star Wars collection was getting relatively smaller as well.

You close the door of his bedroom, turning to Peter who grabbed a worksheet from the backpack that sat in the corner of his room, you blink, realizing it was your math worksheet you gave to him earlier.

Peter walks over to his desk, grabbing two pencils and you watch the boy sit on his bed, bringing his attention to you.

"You gonna stand there and look pretty or are you gonna come sit down so I can help you with this work?" Peter questions, an eyebrow raised expectingly. You grimace at his words, ignoring the annoying heat rising to your face.

You drag your feet to his bed, sitting next to him, leaving a fair, and respectful space between the two of you, accepting the pencil the boy gestures toward you.

"You understand how quadratic equations work, right?" Peter asks, and you nod with a shrug.

"I got to question seven, didn't I?" You snide, tilting your head at him in amusement.

"Yeah, and every single answer you put is...well, wrong." The boy says, and you feel embarrassed at his words.

"Oh."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, it's a hard unit." Peter reassures, placing a hand on your shoulder for comfort.

Your head turns, lingering yours eyes where his hand laid upon your shoulder. Peter, who sensed your hesitance removes his hand to his lap, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Let's uh," The boy gestures to your worksheet in his hand and all you do is nod, mumbling a quiet 'yeah'.

The atmosphere around the two of you shifted into something cumbrous. It was definitely something new, that much you noticed. Undoubtedly, you and Peter have had your awkward, and gainsay moments, but nothing could quite reach this level of uneasiness.

You decide to ignore the evident tension, choosing to solely focus on getting your worksheet done. The sooner, the better.

Finally after, maybe one or two (you weren't paying any attention to the time) torturous hours, Peter had somewhat managed to help you complete the majority of your paper, and you were grateful, despite not letting that appreciation show.

"Thanks." You smile, it not quite reaching your eyes, taking the paper from Peter's desk as the boy stretches.

"Yeah, don't mention it." Peter mumbles with an eye roll, following your swift figure out his room and to his front door.

Peter calls out your name and your irritation toward him is visible, which doesn't really make the boy feel better, but he thinks if he tells you what he's been withdrawing himself from confession for awhile now, you might change your mind about this hatred phase you have for him, or it might make things worst and if anything, have you loathe him even more.

When you turn around, it reminds Peter why exactly he felt the way he felt about you, despite your on going frenemy relationship, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't caught feelings for you throughout the years.

You were just so beautiful, effortlessly so. You have such a vibrant, headstrong, and imaginative personality, it was fairly easy to be attracted to you. 

"I have to tell you something.." Peter starts, and you notice his nervous habit of fiddling with his fingers, and it makes you uneasy.

There's a prolonged heartbeat between you and it makes you impatience, the boy taking a relatively long time to say whatever it is he wanted to say.

"Are you gonna tell me what you have to say?" You ask him.

"We're not exactly friends right now, so if this is one of your many apologies, I think I'll pass on that and I'll be on my way." You countered, turning around without giving the boy a chance to reply.

Your hand connects with the doorknob, and you were just about to twist it before something catches you completely off guard, and you swear your eyes are practically out of your socket when they gaze to the sticky substance stopping you from your attempt of leaving.

"Wha-"

"Okay, listen, I know this looks bad, but you have to hear me out." Peter defends himself, holding out a hand and you shoot him a look as if you're a dear in headlights.

"What the hell is this?" You exclaim, using your free hand to gesture to your stuck one.

"I'm Spider-Man, but that's not what I had to tell you." The boy says coolly.

You're sure your eyes are out of their sockets at this point. It baffled you how calm and collected Peter seems as if he didn't just say a life changing sentence.

"You-, you're Spider-Man?" You question, unsure if you had actually heard the boy right, but you know you did because he said it with such ease.

"Yeah, but that's not what's important." Peter argues and you have to fight back an eye roll.

Instantaneously, something in your brain just sort of click, you raise an eyebrow as a question forms in your head.

"Is that why you can never make it to your hangouts?"

Peter blinks at your question, he squints his eyes at your question.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Peter, what the fu-"

"And I also like you!" He exclaims, almost purposely blocking out your almost vulgar language.

You don't want to believe his words, considering it's, Peter, but with the way he was looking at you with those golden brown eyes, you force yourself to give into his confession, digesting his words  slowly.

There's no doubt that somewhere down the road of your on and off again friendship, you didn't think upon what it would be like to be in a relationship with the boy, but those weren't serious, more fantasy like thoughts if anything. And it's not like you had a crush on him, maybe. You'd be lying if you didn't think of Peter as more than a friend.

Maybe you did have some sort of affection for him. Maybe it was when he had helped you get on the decathlon team, or when he gave you his hoodie (which you still had) because it was raining and he didn't want you to get soaked, though you did, it was a still very thoughtful thing Peter did. Possibly you started seeing the boy in a new light in this exact moment of his confession. All it took was for him to tell you, to have you realize maybe it's been him all along.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

You stare at Peter, who looks anywhere but at you, for an agonizingly long time, racking up an answer in your brain, you can tell the boy is extremely nervous of your answer.

"I like you, too." You smile when Peter does, his eyes lighting up as well.

"I knew it." He quips, and you glare at him.

You two gaze at each-other and you have to break the staring contest as a curious thought pops up in your head.

"So, let me get this straight," You start, Peter listens intently. "You lied for years about being Spider-Man and had me believe it was because you didn't want to be my friend anymore?"

Even if what you had asked was true, it didn't help the fact that no matter what you would always find your way back to Peter, but with the same given excuses told differently, you couldn't help but think he got easily bored of you and lied about not being able to hang out, then when the two of you had a fall out, it was no wonder why you so easily forgave the boy.

Peter frowns at your question.

"No, it's way more complicated than that. I only lied to you to protect you." Peter argues sincerely.

"I would had totally understood if you told me the truth though." You shrug your shoulder, and Peter nods.

"Yeah, but I couldn't risk it." He explained.

You nod, somewhat understanding his reasoning. Your entire friendship came and went because he was a superhero. You should be mad really, but you're all burnt out. Maybe when you're thinking more rationally, you'd find it in your heart to be more furious with the boy.

"So, what now?" You ask, and you briefly glance at the web that still contained your arm before looking at Peter.

"Well, I was thinking, um.." The boy trails off, unsure on how to ask his question, and if you knew any better, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see exactly where his question was going.

"Sure." You decide to save the boy from embarrassment. 

Peter's eyes get a shade brighter, relief coursing through his body at how quickly you understood where he was going.

"Really?"

"Only if you get this web off me."

"Oh!" Peter swiftly approaches you, tugging off the substance off you as if it was as light as a feather.

You smile in thanks, flexing your hand from the uncomfortableness it settled in for way too long.

"Can I get a kiss?"

"Save it for the date, Parker."

[cantstoptheimagines]

Swan Princess (Prince Friedrich | Bridgerton)

Summary — You and the prince have never gotten along.

Requested by @acupnoodle — hii, if requests are open and if you write for prince Friedrich (bridgerton) could i get a fic where shes a princess and his childhood enemy(enemies to lovers) and they meet at the ball after a long time? and theyre shocked to see each other? obv they have to dance tgt being royalty but they “hate” it, and she starts getting jealous of daphne dancing him. ends in fluff please? Thanks!!!

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Frenemies to lovers; playful teasing; jealousy from both Reader and Friedrich; the princess gets rather possessive by the end of this.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,325. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her), is referred to as ‘Princess’, and wears dresses. ➳ This request immediately made me think of ‘The Swan Princess,’ so that movie provided a lot of inspiration for this!

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

Another summer meant another social season. Another round of hot weather, in which doting lords and ladies paraded their most eligible sons and daughters around like prized cattle. Another bout of seemingly endless promenade sessions with boring men, all of whom were only interested in the jeweled crown upon your head.

All eyes were on you (or so it felt) as you helped yourself to yet another glass of champagne. A waltz was in full swing on the dance floor. Thankfully, none of the bachelors in attendance had been smart enough to ask questions about your dance card always being full.

In truth, there was only ever one person on your dance card. And it wasn’t by your choice. Because while another summer meant another social season, it also meant you’d be forced to keep up close relations with your worst nightmare.

You scoffed at the thought of his sparkling eyes and golden locks. Whenever he came into view, young women would always straighten their postures while the less appealing (when compared to a prince, at least) bachelors would furrow their eyebrows, unable to hide their envious hearts.

Not to mention that smug smile of his. It always seemed to spread over his lips at the strangest times, usually whenever you appeared to be particularly miserable.

As the orchestra was preparing to play yet another waltz, someone cleared their throat from behind you. You rolled your eyes at the sound. Setting your glass aside, you readied yourself to reject whoever the latest suitor may be.

Turning to greet the pathetic soul, you were quickly cut off, “I suppose even the ugliest of ducklings can become a swan when the time calls for it.”

Your fake smile dropped at Friedrich’s comment. You scoffed, quickly losing all sense of decorum at the sight of the queen’s nephew.

“And it seems that toads can be handsome princes,” you replied, “even if it is for only one night.”

Friedrich’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “You’re sharp this evening, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, taking the opportunity to glance around the room, “Always am.”

“And what of your dance card? Might I write my name?”

Your expression turned sour, “Your name is already on it, you fool. You know that.”

“Yes, I do. It just feels good to hear you say it,” he hummed. “If you’ll excuse me, Princess. Before our dance, there is another person to whom I must attend.”

“Better them than me.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile, complete with narrowed eyes, before turning away. You had half a mind to stick your foot out in order to make him stumble. Sadly, Friedrich made a quick retreat, almost as though he knew what had been running through your mind.

You watched with curious eyes as he made his way through the sea of guests until he came upon the person he had been searching for. The woman was none other than Daphne Bridgerton, who had been recently named the Diamond of the Season.

Friedrich’s gloved hand extended itself as a blush spread over Daphne’s cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering why your chest had suddenly started to ache.

The two glided around the dance floor with the other guests. They were a vision of grace and beauty next to one another. With a deep sigh, you quickly approached Friedrich’s aunt, Queen Charlotte. She raised her eyebrows at you expectantly.

“My Queen,” you greeted, offering a curtsy, “I ask that you provide me with an introduction.”

Another ridiculous rule for the social season. Any lady who wished to interact with a potential suitor must first be introduced by another member of her party.

A smirk slowly made its way onto the queen’s face, “To whom?”

You turned to scan over the crowd until your eyes paused on a head of dark hair. With a mischievous glimmer, you pointed to the man, and muttered, “Him.”

The queen’s eyes followed your line of sight. Her gaze trailed over the man you had chosen. She held out a hand, which you quickly took, and began leading you through the crowd of guests. With a glance, you spied Friedrich watching the two of you with a curious expression.

If Friedrich can have a Bridgerton, then so can I.

Violet Bridgerton’s eyes widened at the sight of an approaching queen and princess. Why royalty had suddenly decided to descend upon her family, she wasn’t sure, but she definitely couldn’t complain about her sudden improvement in social standing.

“My Queen,” she smiled, “and Princess! How lovely to see you both—!”

“As you know, Lady Bridgerton, our dear princess is only here for a short while on a visit. Her family is very close to mine,” interrupted Queen Charlotte. “It seems, however, she may soon have a reason to stay.”

You nearly grimaced at her words, but contained yourself so as not to make a spectacle of yourself. You could still feel Friedrich’s eyes burning into you.

“Oh?” stuttered the matriarch. “And why is that, Your Highness?” 

“One of your strapping, young sons seems to have caught her attention,” said the queen, before turning to the man in question. “Benedict Bridgerton.”

Benedict froze in surprise. His brothers slowly allowed teasing grins to spread over their faces. The eldest quickly clapped Benedict’s shoulder, shoving him closer to you. Queen Charlotte stood aside, watching as the man took your hand into his own and pressed a gentle kiss against the fabric of your glove. 

“Princess,” he said, “would you like to join me for a waltz—?”

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton,” another voice cut in, “I do believe I have the honor of the next dance with Her Grace, though I’m sure there are plenty of other wonderfully kind ladies who would love to join you.”

Each of you turned to find Friedrich with a blank expression. You spotted Daphne on the dance floor, dancing the night away with the Duke of Hastings, smiles on both of their faces.

Friedrich extended his hand. Slowly, Benedict released his grip, knowing he couldn’t compete with the queen’s nephew. He quietly muttered, “Another time perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” huffed Friedrich, quickly leading you to the center of the dance floor.

The ache in your chest was gone. Friedrich placed your free hand on his shoulder before his met your ribcage. The two that were connected remained so as the orchestra began playing another tune. His eyes occasionally glanced over at Benedict with a glimmer of an emotion you had never seen in Friedrich before then.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, lacking your usual teasing tone of voice upon realizing how tense Friedrich was at the moment.

“You are quite annoying, you know?”

You scoffed, “If you dragged me to the floor just to insult me, I’ll happily take my leave—!”

“No. You won’t,” he interrupted. “While you may provoke ire within me, Princess, I must tell you that I do not wish to see you with another.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Friedrich slowly twirled you beneath his arm before pulling you closer than you had been before. The two of you were so close that even Lady Whistledown would be blushing at the sight.

What a scandal this will be in the morning.

Your proximity left you quietly gasping for breath. Friedrich’s eyes flickered over your features, examining every aspect of you, deep in thought. Finally, he licked his lips and spoke once more.

“I will not see you with another.”

His stern tone sent shivers along your spine. You risked a glance at his lips, swallowing any retort you may have had. Instead, you asked, “What are you saying, toad?”

Friedrich chuckled at your attempt at an insult. It was obvious he was getting to you. He relished in the way you trembled in his arms as he traced shapes into the fabric of your dress. With a smile, he clarified his words, despite believing he had made his intentions very clear.

“That you’re mine, swan princess.”

[kiztae]

warmth [II] ― c.beomgyu x f.reader

wc: 3.7k

genre: frenemies to lovers, slight fluff, suggestive, smut.

summary: you and beomgyu used to be childhood bestfriends, but you drifted apart and became more dismissive of each other. you both snicker and tease each other, but there's always a feeling of something more being there. perhaps a beach trip can manage to make you guys closer, maybe closer than ever. (SEQUEL TO THIS)

cw: smut, fingering, protected sex, penetration, grinding, slight bit of angst, slight bit of insecurity from reader and beomgyu, fucking with people in another room? (they're unaware though)

a/n: finally posting this. i know some people were waiting for it, so i hope you enjoy!! (a bit rushed but it’s still cute.)

ever since yesterday, you and beomgyu didn't know how to act. the usual bickering and playful mood were turning into more of a slightly awkward but also tense atmosphere.

you both had fallen asleep after your... moment. however, beomgyu was gone after you had woken up, the past comfort of his warmth nowhere to be found on the other side of the bed.

because of this, you had assumed that maybe he wasn't feeling completely good about it. maybe some dwelling on it made him realize what happened more clearly. you had to admit, you were a bit confused by it too.

sure, you both had some sexual tension growing between the both of you for a while now. but it didn't help that much with this new event. you guys were still childhood friends, and recent... frenemies?

consequently, you opted to think that beomgyu was maybe feeling a bit shy or awkward. even though inside, you were dreading the fact that he was regretting it and avoiding you.

"y/n?"

"huh?"

"i asked you to help beomgyu with the dishes. wake up honey!" your mom chuckled as she noticed your dumbfounded expression.

thankfully, your mom snapped you out of your overwhelming thoughts, making you walk towards the kitchen sink.

whatever. it's whatever. if he regrets it, he regrets it. if it's something else, it's something else. stop bothering yourself with all this.

"took you long enough. at this point the night breeze is about to dry these plates faster than you." beomgyu commented as he saw you stand next to him and grab a plate to dry it.

"really? well i bet that if i gave a kid these plates, he would make them three times cleaner than this." you bite back, not meeting his gaze, part of you a bit annoyed at his lack of communication the whole day.

"you could never clean these like i do." he states, looking up and smirking, like he was royalty. it amused you a bit, beomgyu always did something that made you laugh. but this time, you didn't want to give him much of a reply.

"oh, i'd hope nobody ever cleans them like you do." you continue, starting to put the dry dishes away into the kitchen cabinets.

"hah! sure. you're just jealous of my skills."

"hm, didn't know you had any sort of skills. in like, anything?"

right after you finished your sentence, the sounds of beomgyu scrubbing the dishes stopped, the water still running. you were a bit disorientated, not knowing what he was doing.

until you felt him stand behind you, his body pressed up against yours. again.

"i'll have you know i'm skilled at a lot of things." he murmurs behind you. "and i bet... you'd like some of those things." he resumes, as he brushes his hand over your thigh, then your hip, and finally your waist, leaving it there.

your words were caught in your throat, not being able to mutter even a mediocre response to him, the feeling of him so close to you making you flustered.

"guys, are you done yet?" beomgyu's mom asked as she walked inside the kitchen. your eyes widened when you heard her footsteps coming close.

beomgyu's other hand moved up to the kitchen cabinet, reaching for it, as his other hand placed itself on the counter. you just stayed still and then looked at her with an apologetic smile.

"yup, just helping y/n close the cabinet! you know how short she is mom." he brushes off with a small laugh.

luckily, beomgyu's mother didn't really pay much mind to it and just told you both to wrap things up and go to your room, leaving soon after.

"move, beomgyu." you command, turning around and glaring at him with a frown. your cheeks were still shining a small tone of pink, making your expression not look nearly as intimidating as you wanted.

still, beomgyu backed off, frowning himself, feeling a bit attacked. he knew you both always fought and fooled around, but you looked genuinely mad. he didn't like that.

"hey- are you- are you mad?" he asked, looking for your eyes, while you just turned around, avoiding his.

"you figure that out, i'm going upstairs." you sigh, walking away from him before he could reply.

honestly, you didn't want to be so immature about it, but you just couldn't stand him being like that after leaving you earlier.

"so fucking cold-" you shivered, tiptoeing towards your spot on the bed. the pajamas you had packed for the beach trip weren't doing anything for you. you thought the night weather would be similar to the sunny hot breeze in the day, but you were so wrong. the night breeze was icy, your tank top and pajama pants making it hit you with all it's might.

once you got to the bed, you hurriedly covered your legs and waist with the blanket, sitting down and trying your best to warm yourself up. you grabbed your phone and started to reply to some messages, as well as scrolling through some apps.

the door creaked, making you look up from your phone, your stare meeting beomgyu's as he came in.

not a word was exchanged between you two, both not knowing very well what to say. he went inside the bathroom to change, and you opted to lay down already, and try to go to sleep.

when he came out, you were already turning your back to him, the lights turned off, the covers unsettled, and your figure blurred by the darkness.

beomgyu internally sighed and got on the bed, settling himself on his side. nonetheless, he was not going to sleep. he couldn't do that after you left like that earlier.

"y/n."

silence.

"y/n?"

silence.

"y/n. please."

he moved over closer to you, not too close, but closer.

"did i go overboard? was it- was it bad? i'm sorry- i thought we both wanted it. i just- i admit i was... really turned on by you... so i acted out on it- but i'm sorry, it was wrong. i really thought-" his words were coming out like a wave, all so rushed and piling over.

"it's not that!" you cut him off, turning around and sitting up, finally facing him.

his mouth shut close and he looked at you with his brows furrowing to the side, just like a lost puppy.

"you, you left earlier. i woke up alone. and then you- you just didn't talk to me?" you explain, looking around, searching for the right words. "i just didn't understand. we did... something. and to not see you or talk to you after that, was confusing. yeah, i was embarrassed and i knew we could be awkward maybe, but it was odd."

"oh. oh shit. y/n i'm sorry." beomgyu's frown turned over, making him look mad. and he was mad at himself. he forgot to even explain anything to you.

you didn't know. you didn't know that beomgyu had been woken up by his mother knocking on the door and telling him to come help with some things around the beach house. making him leave your side without being able to explain anything. even more so, his mother had him running around the house and the beach, making him do all sorts of chores, which made it impossible to talk to you, until now.

he explained everything to you, telling you every single chore his mom made he do, every single moment he wanted to talk to you but couldn't. it all made sense now, and you were so relieved.

"i'm sorry. i didn't realize. i just, i got in my head and i overthought everything." you say, your body moving closer to him unconsciously, searching for his warmth.

"we both fucked up y/n. we're stupid." he let out, stifling a small laugh.

"woah hey, don't put me on the same level as you-" you retort, feeling comfortable enough to dive back into your old dynamic.

"oh, shut up!" his eyes roll up and he smiles soon after, this new mood making it all feel better.

"weird. i thought you didn't want me to?" you mock him, clearly challenging him to see what would happen next.

for a second his mouth opens, ready for a response, but then it closes back. his mind goes haywire as he remembers the words he said to you, the acts he did on you, and the things you said. his cheeks are soon stained with a bright pink shade, his eyes wide and his mouth firmly shut.

"that-" he pauses, a wave of embarrassment brushing over him.

has he ever felt this embarrassed? the choi beomgyu, was being utterly shy and quiet.

"that's so different y/n." his voice marks a more serious tone, his gaze meeting yours. the blush on his cheeks is prominent, but even more so, the almost hidden shimmer in his eyes makes him look so gorgeous.

you both stare at each other, the atmosphere in the room thickening with each breath you took. you were both sitting down in the very same bed from last night, facing each other, your bodies longing for the other's.

"gyu—"

before you even try to form a sentence, his hands find shelter on the sides of your neck, pulling you in.

the short breaths exchanged between kisses echo around the room, making it too easy to get lost in the warmth of beomgyu's embrace. whatever coldness you felt before was long gone, your body felt like it was on fire, every clash of your mouths with each other making your temperature skyrocket.

"let me touch you- please-" beomgyu pleads, detaching his lips from yours but sticking his forehead against yours instead. his hands were stilled just behind your lower back, waiting for your response. to be honest, beomgyu was about to go insane if he waited any longer. it took all of his self control not to manhandle you and feel every single bit of your body.

"yes- do everything you want gyu." you breathe out, looking up at him expectantly.

"fuck- don't say that." he sighs, furrowing his brows and letting his head drop down into the crook of your neck.

"touch me." you inquire, the tone in your voice so soft that it makes him twitch in his pants. his hands roughly grasped your waist, placing you right on top of his hard on.

his breath immediately hitched when your clothed core came in contact with his crotch. his eyelashes fluttered and his mouth gaped with the electric feeling of it. your hands move down to gather his, sliding them from your waist down to your hips. he takes the hint and assists you by pressing you against his bulge, making you grind down on him.

"mmh" a moan slips past your lips, your eyes shutting closed and your palms flying up to his chest to stabilize yourself.

"so that's how you like it?" his voice deepens, the timbre of it lowering down and revealing some cockiness in it with each word.

you can only nod in response, choosing to drop your head down, your eyes opening and being met with the sight of beomgyu's hips moving up into you. it looked so lewd, the rhythmic thrust of his pelvis against your heat.

"y/n.. so good.. you feel so good.." he praises into your ear, his voice husky and vibrating against your skin. right after his comment, he nips at your earlobe, bitting it softly and earning a small gasp from you. the grinding against his erection made you fuzzy and warm inside, it all felt like a fever dream. you were burning inside and out, his hands starting to roam around your body until they found their place on your breasts.

"so pretty. so so pretty y/n." he whispers, his eyes not leaving your breasts, hypnotized by the heaving of your chest.

just as beomgyu started to lower his head down to your chest, starting to bite and nibble at the skin that he had now exposed, your hand began to lower his shorts, not a single thought in your mind other than needing him.

"w-wait.." his head quirks up, his face flushed, ears red, lips puffy and eyes glossy.

"d-did i go too far?" you hesitate, fearing you might have crossed a boundary.

"no! no.. it's just.." he mutters, looking away shyly.

"s-should we stop?" you offer, feeling incredibly ashamed of the ideas in your mind.

"—no! please-" he opposes, furrowing his brows, both of his pupils shaking as they broke through yours.

"so.. what now?" you look down to the tent in his pants and the small wet patch that formed on top of his sweatpants. his hands started to inch down slowly, calculating every swift across your thigh until it reached down between your legs. then, his hand cups your heat, his middle finger starting to trace up and down your slit, tempting you.

“let me do it for you. please." he purrs into your neck, nipping at the skin and licking the cherry tinted marks on it. you swallowed, once, twice, and then melted into his touch. your breath joint with his, frantic and hot.

he hooked his finger on the elastic of your panties and hooked them to the side. "sorry, i'm—" you were swollen, plump and wet. you didn't think you were capable of getting so wet, so fast, but apparently you were. "beautiful." he wasn't really talking to you, more like he was thinking out loud. "can i?"

at first you weren't sure what he was asking permission for, but when you looked down to see his middle finger prodding at your entrance, his thumb slowly rubbing against your clit in a spiral, you understood.

"yeah." your words came out hoarse, like they had struggled to even form. he was so turned on, being able to have you on his fingers made his cock twitch in his pants. when he finally pushed his digit into you, and then another one, he grunted out a guttural fuck, responding to the ease in which they went in.

his eyes would not leave your cunt, entranced with the way his fingers slipped in and out of you with ease. and oh god, how he loved the sounds you were making against him.

“you’re such a good girl. taking my fingers so well..” he praised, reaching deeper and hitting the soft spot that made you see stars. you never knew beomgyu would be so good with his fingers. that he would be talking dirty like this, to you.

“fuck- who thought you to speak like that??” you gasped, moving your head into the crook of his neck to try and hide your flustered state.

“what’s wrong baby? is it turning you on?” he teased, his tone playful and yet so lustful, his fingers doing wonders and bringing you closer to the edge.

“s-shut up.” you bite back, biting his neck and licking it, a sharp moan coming out of him. such a sweet sound, he just sounded so pretty.

“cum for me.” he pleads, feeling you getting close and hearing your moans get higher. “please cum on my fingers.”

“fuck, gyu!” you whimper, the bundle of knots in your stomach snapping.

“fucking soak me.” he whispers against your hair, grasping it as he tries his best to control his breathing, almost not being able to contain how much this was affecting him too. luckily, this helped and muffled your moans a bit, helping so that the others don’t hear everything.

after letting yourselves catch your breaths (more you than him), he separated from you and looked down at his hand, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. you looked up at him to see what kept him quiet, noticing how hard he was staring at your slick coating him.

you were about to say something, but then he brought them up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them with a lazy grin. his cheekbones were bright red and his eyes were hazy, looking back at you when you just observed the obscene act.

“you didn’t need to do that.” you cleared your throat, looking away and closing your legs by reflex. but he wasn’t pleased with that, hands traveling to your thighs and taking the plush skin in them, separating your legs once again.

“i wanted to, and you taste so good y/n.” he winks, licking his lips after to get a last taste. as he does this, he reaches closer and places himself between your legs, climbing on top of you slowly. his body heat made yours increase, the closeness of you both making everything feel like it’s in slow motion.

when the mattress dips on the sides of your head, you feel beomgyu drop part of his weight on you, his crotch right on top of your naked one. he reaches down and finishes the job you started earlier by lowering his shorts enough for his dick to spring out. fuck, he was long and veiny, the tip of his shaft shining with precum.

“oh shit, i almost forgot!” he whisper shouts, turning back and chuckling softly. “i’m so fucking horny, i almost forgot to grab a condom.” he explains, reaching towards his bag and taking a small box of condoms out of the small pocket.

“you brought condoms?” you inquire, frowning and letting out a soft chuckle yourself.

“i um- i bought some earlier today..” he admits sheepishly, looking down as he takes one out and hides his embarrassment as much as possible. you smile in return and remember what’s about to happen, burning up too.

once he got it on, he returned between your legs, pressing his tip against your entrance, sliding it up and down while furrowing his brows and letting out tiny gasps.

“are you sure about doing this with me?” you ask out of insecurity, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious about whether or not he wanted this with you, or if it was just in the moment.

he instantly looked up at you in disbelief, his eyes shining under the moonlight. he rushed to go over to you, even closer, attacking your lips and starting to kiss you with as much need as he could let out. his tongue played with yours, your mouths colliding and fighting each other to get a little bit of air.

“you have no idea what i want” he growls against your mouth, his forehead sticking to yours as he aligns himself with you.

he searches for your eyes again, silently asking for consent, accepting it when you nod against him. not wasting any more time, he pushes himself in you, his shaft filling you up so deliciously when he bottoms out. you both sigh in contentment when he does so, you grabbing his back and him holding onto your waist. your bodies have never been closer, the heat from your bodies forming into one, into your warmth.

“does it feel okay?” he questions, rocking his hips gradually harder, his thrust showing themselves as more needy by the second.

‘okay’ was far from how good it felt to have him inside you. the nails of your fingers dug slightly into his shoulders as you hastily replied “don’t stop.”

“fuck, okay.” he grunts, now starting to thrust up into you, snapping his hips as he takes the back of your head into his right palm to steady you, holding you like a fragile flower. your fingernails then dig into his back, feeling his muscles move underneath your hands.

“why did i fight you again?” you manage to ask, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

“why? shit- cause' you're annoyed im too handsome?” he retorts jokingly but also out of spite, resenting you for ever keeping this from him.

“agh- now i remember” you add, whining the last bit when you feel him hitting you so deep with each thrust, another orgasm threatening to spill.

“i won’t last long with how good this feels..." he bites his lip, now moving his hands into your that we’re holding onto the sheets behind your head. he connects and tangles his fingers with yours, holding your hands against the mattress as he pounds into you.

“me too- please." you beg, grasping his hands in return, both of you holding onto each other desperately. you weren't gonna last long either, your high nearing with each moment of his. god, did beomgyu fuck often?! how was he so good?

between small whines and hushed breaths against your collar, beomgyu rushed his movements more, his thrust turning sloppy and even god- even more desperate. it was like he was aching for you, the need uncontrollable. and it was mutual, your legs closing up against his hips, caging him and pushing in further.

your sounds were both getting higher and higher, both of you incapable of keeping them in, this causing him to go forward and reattach your mouths. his tongue messily worked with yours as he muffled the sounds and kept on hitting your sweet spot.

just when you thought it couldn't get any better, your orgasm washed over you, making you moan into his mouth and him breathing it in. soon after, beomgyu landed his lasts thrusts and fucked your roughly through your high, his hitting him as well. he never stopped kissing you, trying his best to keep quiet and not get caught by the rest of the beach house.

then, beomgyu hesitantly untangles himself from you, pulling out slowly. your whole body feels fuzzy as he plops down on the bed next to you, trying to catch his breath. he throws the condom away in a trash can and then turns back to you.

"so- um.. did you- did you like it?" he questions, too shy to look straight at you and opting to play with his fingers instead. where was this shy attitude coming from? especially after he talked so boldly earlier.

"i did gyu. did you.. did you fuck often? i mean, that was really good i didn't know you'd-" before you can finish, he reaches over to you and places a peck on your cheek, showing a cheeky grin in his face, the pink hue on them almost unnoticed by you. "what was that for?" you giggle.

"just glad you liked it." he nonchalantly states, looking at you with a new glimmer in his eyes while he rests his head on his arm.

this was only the start of it, wasn't it?

© kiztae

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 8

Source for pic

Firestarter 8 🔞

Word Count: 4392

Aditional warning for this chapter: There is a scene that is EXPLICIT NSFW. I will mark it with the 🔞 sign so you can skip it if you want. Having said this, your internet experience is your own and you should be acountable for it. You've been warned, read at your own discretion. Thank you!

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: We took a lot of time to get here, so, for now, enjoy the fluffiness of this chapter, please! 🥰

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter 🔞 | | |Next Chapter|

The sun hits you in the eyes and you stir. The breeze feels warm against the bare skin of your arms. As you take a deep breath, you are immediately flooded by Ace’s scent. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your arms tighter around him.

He must’ve already been awake because you sense a kiss on your head. “Morning, beautiful.”

You can’t stop smiling and blushing, but you open your eyes to stare at him. “Hi.” He’s also smiling at you and he lowers his head to kiss you on the lips. “You must be so sore.” You murmur, because you both slept on the floor, but he held you against him and forced you to use him as a pillow.

“No. This was the best sleep of my life.”

“Stop being cute.” You say with a smile.

“Can’t. You rubbed your ‘cute’ all over me yesterday.” That elicits a chuckle and soon you're both laughing.

You won’t deny it. Last night was heaven. You used up all the condoms Ace had in his wallet, you cuddled under the stars and made silly promises of always wanting to be with each other. You shared favourite foods, colours, music and movies and your connection is so real that it’s like you have known him your whole life and never spent a day apart from him. 

With the light of day you were afraid that this might all have been a dream and that you would doubt Ace’s intentions, after all, he won the chase, he got you.

Yet, he’s still looking at you as if you were the only important thing on the planet. He’s holding you so tight one might think you were about to slip down the mountain. And he keeps stealing kisses from your lips as if he’s afraid you won’t return them. 

“Maybe we should get going.” You murmur while glancing at his wristwatch. “I’m sure Shanks already realised what happened, but I don’t want to be late to help him.”

Ace hums and shifts, positioning you on the floor and entwining his legs with yours so he can hover over you. “Five more minutes so I can properly kiss you good morning.”

You smile and nod, closing your eyes and waiting for his kiss, but he swiftly disappears in the middle of your thighs and you gasp. “Ace!”

“I didn’t specify which lips I wanted to kiss.” Comes his muffled response and you arch your back against his touch. Ten more minutes won’t make much of a difference, right?

-*-

You feel a little silly dressed only in your pyjamas, since it's daytime now, and Ace fishes out another one of his used t-shirts from the backseat. 

“Do you have an unending pile of clothes there?” You chuckle and put on the oversized tee over your pyjama, tying a knot in the back to make it shorter. 

He shrugs and gives you another kiss. “I just keep taking them off and they end up in the backseat. Sorry if it's a bit smelly.” He grimaces. “But, damn, you do make my shirts look sexy.”

Giggling you open the door and are about to enter when Ace sets his hands on your hips to help you up. If that gesture made your toes curl before, now it almost makes you roll your eyes in pleasure. “Ace!” You stare at him from inside the car. 

“I can't help it. Your hips are like a magnet to my hands.” He goes for another quick peck, but you turn in the seat and pull him by the neck, opening your legs and letting him nestle against you for an open-mouthed kiss. 

He grunts into you as he pulls away. “Stop that, Firestarter, I don't have any more condoms.” You smirk as he pulls away from you and goes around the jeep to get into the driver's seat. “You wanna kill me?”

He's obviously aroused. 

But so are you. 

So you try to get your mind out of the gutter as you choose a song on the radio and he drives. The mood for the ride this time is way different than before. You are sitting on top of the world. 

And Ace is right there with you. 

He keeps placing his hand on your thigh when it's not needed on the stick, and you can't stop grinning. You have such warmth inside your chest that you're almost afraid you'll combust. 

You're happy. So happy. You don't actually remember feeling like this. 

Ever. 

You feel the need to tell him how much he means to you, to let him know that, in just a short span of days - that felt like an eternity because you were always around him or thinking about him - you've fallen deeply and madly in love. You've come to the realisation that you simply can't - and don't want to - live without him. 

But you're afraid to let him know that already. It's too much for too little time and he's not used to relationships. You don't want to scare him. Even though you're dying to know if what he feels for you is as intense as what you feel for him. 

Eventually Ace pulls over at Shanks’ house and you both leave the jeep. Ace says he only has to be at the fire station after lunch so he'll help you and Shanks with chores and you're happy about that decision. 

But Shanks doesn't seem too happy. 

“Morning, dad!” You greet with a small wave, but the redhead staring at you from the top of the porch only hums and drinks coffee from his mug. 

“Good morning Sh-... Sir.” Ace says respectfully and you stifle a giggle. Why is he being so formal around your father?

“Ace is helping us with chores, is that alright?” 

He hums again as a response and you and Ace climb the stairs together. Raising an eyebrow at your father, you step inside the threshold ready for a cup of coffee yourself. You'd also like a bath, but that will have to wait until after the chores. 

Ace is about to follow you inside when Shanks steps in front of him, giving him a menacing stare and a scowl.

“Dad!” You growl from inside the house. “What are you doing?”

Shanks turns his head your way and finally smiles at you. “Go on inside, bug, I'm just going to have a quick chat with Ace.”

What now? You grumble and turn to go into the kitchen but, as soon as your dad turns, you return to eavesdrop. 

“Portgas, explain.”

“Sir, I… what am I supposed to explain? We talked and cleared the air between us. We're fine now.” Ace seems nervous. 

“You talked?”

“Uh… I… we… uh…” You facepalm and groan internally. 

“You defiled my daughter, scoundrel!”

Why is your father speaking like he's a man from the 18th century? 

“What? Shanks?!”

“It's ‘sir’ for you. It will be ‘sir’ for the rest of your life. And you've just lost your privilege to coffee.”

“Ah, Sh-... Sir! I really need coffee.”

Shaking your head you can’t help but think that your father is overdoing it.

“Why do you need coffee? Stayed up all night?” He curses and exhales deeply. “Ace, you better not hurt my baby girl. You see the smile she walked in here with today? You better keep her smiling like that.”

Sighing at your father’s protectiveness, you turn to go back to the kitchen. 

“I intend to keep that smile on her face, Sir. Every day.” 

The softness with which Ace delivered the words makes you melt and sigh again as you pace into the kitchen and take out two coffee mugs. Filling them to the brim and snatching the plate of pancakes your dad cooked for breakfast, you return to the porch and set the items on the balcony. 

“Dad, stop trying to act mean.” You drag Ace to a chair and sit next to him, handing him one of the coffee mugs. He stares at Shanks who simply sighs and enters the house again. 

With a heavy sigh, Ace takes a huge gulp of the coffee and you knit your eyebrows together. “Don't let him bully you, Ace. He's just trying to be mean.”

“He's right, though.”

“About what?” The coffee tastes delicious and you hum into the mug in delight. 

“About warning me.” He scratches the back of his head and sets the mug down again. “I'm no good.” A sigh escapes his lips as he locks eyes with you. “Look at you, you deserve so much better than me…”

Oh, you are definitely going to kill Shanks. But first, you need to put a smile back on Ace's face. Getting up from your chair and sitting on his lap, you cup his cheeks with your hands and force him to look at you. 

“You silly, silly man. You're perfect for me. You're all I've ever wanted and I've never been happier. Don't doubt yourself. You're enough!” Leaning down, you rub your nose against his in an affectionate manner. “More than enough, actually, and you're all mine.”

That seems to do the trick because his cheeky smile is back on his freckled face and he circles your body with his arms, one of his big hands grabbing your butt cheek as he leans in to claim your lips and you giggle into his mouth. 

“Hmm, hmm.” Shanks clears his throat and Ace immediately parts from you, raising his hands in the air and looking at Shanks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, come on!” You whine. “Dad, get used to this and stop being mean to Ace.”

“Get off me, Firestarter.” Ace whispers without breaking eye contact with Shanks. “He looks pissed.”

Eventually you lay the groundwork for a semblance of peace between both men, and you get to work helping your father. Shanks asks Ace to do chores on the other side of the property so you don't get distracted and he's right in doing that, because both times you pass by Ace on your way to get something, you two lose yourselves in kisses and embraces, barely getting any work done. 

Lunchtime approaches quickly, and the morning chores are done. Ace needs to get home to shower because he has to be at the fire station in the afternoon and you are taking your time to say goodbye to him, by his jeep. 

“Thanks for all the help, cowboy.” A sultry whisper escapes your lips as you lean your back against the jeep’s door, your hand lingering on his chest in a soft caress. 

His smile mimics yours as he tilts his hat back. That adorable cowboy hat he wears in the sun. His skin is sweaty and glistening from the sun and his freckles make you weak in the knees. Pressing his body against yours, he lets his fingers caress the side of your body before settling on your hip, his thumb slowly circling your hip bone. 

“Anytime, anywhere.” You chuckle as he leans in, his teeth nibbling your lower lip before his tongue swipes to ease the sting. Closing your eyes, you moan into his touch and he uses it as a cue to take your lips in a gentle kiss. “Come shower with me.” He whispers against your ear, kissing your skin with his hot breath, a veiled promise of what's to come, should you accept. 

Tempting. So tempting. 

“Can't.” You exhale. “Shanks is waiting for me.” He grunts and that low vibrato makes your skin perk up with goosebumps. “Later?”

His warm hands and nimble fingers keep caressing you, making promises he intends to keep and you feel your mind fog up with pleasure and yearning. 

“Want to come by the station?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble against his lips. “Will you be alone?”

“Yeah, everyone will be at the Jubilee.”

“Perfect.”

Your arms circle his neck and you pull him down for a final desperate kiss. “I gotta go.” 

“Me too.” He grunts and you groan but neither of you moves to actually leave. None of you wants to part and stop kissing. Not when it feels this good, when it feels like you're two halves of a whole and you're finally reunited. 

“Lunch is getting cold!”

The yell coming from the porch makes Ace pull away from you as if you suddenly caught fire and you can't stop a hearty laugh at the respect he holds for your father. 

“You should go.” He says without looking back at Shanks, and you nod, letting go of his neck, but nor before laying another peck on his lips. 

“See you later.”

-*-

The first thing you do after having lunch and taking a well-deserved shower, is text Nami. You send her exactly three words and wait: He is good! 

Giggling, you pick up the call you knew she was going to make immediately and tell her what happened. You're so happy that you need to share the news. 

-*-

Shanks corners you and tries to have a conversation about sexual responsibility and safety during sex and your eyes almost roll out of their sockets once he starts. 

“Dad, are you serious? I was going to get married by the end of the year! I'm 25 years old! You can't expect me to be sexually innocent, right?”

Shanks’ blush rivals the colour of his hair and you are quite sure it's a reflection of the blush on your own cheeks. Grunting and turning away from you, seemingly occupied with packing some fruit and water before he leaves for the Jubilee, he adds: “Ace is a good kid, Bug. I told you that. And he told me his intentions towards you come from real feelings, not just to pass the time.”

Softening your gaze, you find yourself smiling. So that's what the two of them were talking about yesterday before you left the house. The part of their discussion you missed. 

“I know you're in good hands with him, but I worry…” Shanks closes his eyes as he grabs his hat. Before leaving, his eyes search yours and they seem a bit sad. “I made him promise me he wouldn't break your heart. So you let me know if he does, okay, bug? See you later, sweetie.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice is merely a whisper. 

-*-

As promised, after your father leaves and you get ready, you meet Ace by the fire station. Heart already beating out of compass, lips tingling with excitement and a smile that doesn't leave your mouth. 

You know he will be crazy about you no matter what you wear, but you can't help but dress a bit provocatively just to see his reaction. Using the thigh-high black socks again, you pair them with a cute little dress, half-expecting him to take in the infinite possibilities of easier access. 

This time you use the doorbell, yet he's as fast as he was the first time around and in seconds he's opening the door with a huge grin. 

“Oh, look! My food order arrived! I was starving!” You're about to chuckle at his silliness when he hooks his arms under your butt to get you to straddle his lap, and you oblige. Your laughter gets lost within his mouth because he's already claiming your lips on his with a fiery, passionate kiss. 

It's as electrifying as the first kiss you shared. In fact, all kisses with Ace seem to leave behind a trail of fire that consumes you. It starts somewhere around your belly and its flames lick and climb and spread all over your body, leaving you numb, sweaty and aching for more. 

He pulls a deep moan from inside you with his tongue as he deepens the kiss and you tug at his hair. Desperate fingers find purchase in his dark locks, trying to ground yourself to the here and now because you're already feeling yourself beginning to drift away in the throes of pleasure. 

“Fuck, I've missed you.” He breaks the kiss with a raspy voice as he sits you on the back of the couch, hands gripping you tightly and digits protruding the skin. His eyes gobble you up and he almost has to pick up his jaw from the floor as he finally takes you in. “Are you trying to kill me, Firestarter?”

Your legs find purchase against the couch, hands lazily draped over his shoulders and he deems you safe enough to loosen his hold on you. A guttural grunt makes his lips tremble as he runs his hands over your legs and bare thighs. 

Giggling, your fingers play with his hair as you lock eyes with him and hit him with your best sultry voice. “Not kill, no. But, perhaps, hinder you enough to take you aback.” Another giggle. “Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

🔞 EXPLICIT NSFW PART - READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 🔞

His warm hand finds its way to the inside of your thighs, his digits exploring further and finding you already wet and wanting, the thin cloth of your panties barely holding anything back. 

“You're already this wet for me, baby?” He coos in your ear and you whine at the sensation his hot touch creates. “Did you think about me as you were getting dressed?” He lays soft kisses along your neck and collarbone and you find it quite hard to concentrate on his questions. 

“Hmm, hmm.” It's all you can manage as he pulls the wet cloth aside and drags two fingers on your folds, spreading your slickness. 

“What was that?” His tongue teases your earlobe at the same time as his thumb does the same to your clit, and all the sane thoughts you had left in your mind go out the window. “I need a verbal answer, Firestarter. Can you do that?”

No. No, you can't. Because he's thrusting his fingers inside of you and biting at every bit of exposed skin on your upper body, and he's so warm and hot that it's like he's pure fire. And by all the gods, you don't mind burning away into ashes if it feels this good. 

“I… Hmm, hmm. Yes, sure, yeah.” You manage to croak between sighs and mewls and the chuckle he releases against your neck makes his lips vibrate and elicit a very shameless moan. 

“Are you still here with me?” He claims your lips again, trying to pull you back from the pleasurable place you drifted onto. Unbeknownst to him that such an act only pushes you further. 

“Ace…” You whimper. How is it that with a few kisses and touches he has already reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess, already on the verge of begging for him. 

“It's okay baby, I got you.”

That sentence tells you he's almost done with his teasing and you help him get rid of his shorts so he can open the wrapper to the condom. Yet, before he does, you jump down from your perch and fall on your knees in front of him, eager to taste him as you have yet to try. Locking eyes with him, you catch his mischievous glimmer, reading your intentions full well.

Your lips tingle with excitement at the prospect of having him in your mouth, and you eagerly tug down his boxers and also get rid of your panties while you’re at it. “Fuck.” He mutters as you bite your lower lip, practically salivating at the sight before you. Using the precum gathered at his tip, you lather his length with your tongue as he releases a groan and places his hand on your head, fingers tangling around your hair for purchase. 

He's definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you love a challenge. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck around him with one hand fondling his balls and the other one stroking his shaft. The sounds leaving his lips are driving you insane and you can't help but release one of your hands from him so you can put some pressure on your clit that's throbbing incessantly. 

That action elicits a deep moan from you and Ace pulls out of your mouth before he loses control. “Ah, you're so good to me.” His praises leave you blushing. “Get up, baby.” He whispers as he finishes putting on the condom. 

Ace removes the straps from your dress so he can pull it down and free your tits, suckling and biting on the nipples until you’re panting against his ear. “Ace! I need you right now, please, please!”

“There you go begging for me, baby. You know that drives me insane.” He grunts as he turns you and bends you over the back of the couch, spreading your legs with one swift motion. “You want me? How badly do you want me?” He teases the tip against your folds, letting it drag towards your clit and you arch your back to him. His hand slithers and grabs your boob, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as he aligns himself with your entry, just waiting for your answer. 

“I want you so much, Ace. I can't stop thinking about you inside me and-... Mmmm, just like that.” You gasp as your nails dig into the plushness of the couch. He's inserting himself tantalisingly slowly and you can feel your walls stretching and accommodating him, welcoming him inside. 

“So tight…” He grunts and buries his head in the crook of your neck, as you're still arching back. “So perfect.” As he finally bottoms out, the two of you moan in unison, taking shallow breaths. He slides his hand along your spine, from bottom to the top and pushes you gently forward by the nape, so you return to a bent position. Then he places both hands on your hips and starts to thrust relentlessly. 

The burn spreads and scorches and extends its fiery tendrils to parts of you you barely even realised were there. He's so deep within you that it almost hurts, but instead, it's a pressure that feels good and keeps building and intensifying, pulling moan after moan from your lips. “That's it, baby, scream for me, we're all alone.” He assures you. 

“God, Ace! I'm almost… Mmm… Ace!”

You can feel his thrusts getting more and more erratic, his pacing increasing and yet you still fall off that ledge before him when a feeling of numbness and overpowering burn courses through you. A panting, gasping moan leaves your lips in shallow breaths and Ace’s arm circles your waist, pulling you towards him, firmly, tightly as his release follows yours with a deep grunt, and his head collapses forward, against your shoulder. 

You're breathing in tandem. Shallow, erratic breaths that leave you lightheaded. Or perhaps those are only the effects of the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you. Whatever it is, you're both recovering. Somehow he recovers faster and, still buried within you, scatters sloppy kisses on your back and shoulders.

“You’re so perfect, so, so perfect.” A chuckle leaves your lips followed by a breathy whine when he pulls out of you. He’s still holding you tightly against him and his hand travels from your waist to your neck and he pressures near your jaw to tilt your head to the side and back so he can claim your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He exhales after your short kiss.

-*- 🔞 END OF EXPLICIT NSFW PART 🔞 -*-

“Told you that one was the first to die!” You point at the screen with a victorious shout as the blonde girl gets slashed in the first ten minutes of the horror movie. “I should've made a bet!”

Snuggling closer, you steal a kiss from Ace's lips. He smiles as his arms circle tighter around you. The loveseat that the other night seemed too small for both of you, now has plenty of space since you're lying on top of Ace. 

Your boyfriend? 

You haven't labelled it, but he did say he wanted to try a serious relationship. Whatever he is, he makes you happy. Your heart keeps swelling at the tiniest things he does for you. It's so endearing the way he circles his fingers in your hair, or the way he nudges his nose against yours when you're absorbed in the movie. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks as his stomach growls and that is another thing you have come to expect of Ace. He's always hungry. 

“I could eat.”

“I don't think there are many takeouts open during Jubilee, I think we might have to settle for pizza again.” He mumbles, half-annoyed. “One of these days I need to take you to a proper fancy restaurant. How about that?”

Giggling, you nod as he starts to dial the pizza place's number. “Sounds nice.”

After he places the order, you continue watching the movie, but Ace keeps distracting you with feather-like touches and cheeky kisses and you're bordering on a weird limbo between sleep and wakefulness. 

You register the faraway sound of the doorbell, but Ace lifts you up very slowly, settling you back down on the couch and you keep your eyes closed, being lulled by the lingering smell of Ace around you and, oddly enough, the screaming sounds of the movie. 

Just like the first time you visited, Deuce takes it upon himself to enter the day room and see which girl Ace is with this time. You hear them as if they are very far away. 

“I can't believe you, Ace. She was perfect for you, if you have another one of those bimbos in there with you, I swear-... Oh.”

He must've seen your sleeping form on the couch, especially since you sense Ace approaching and fixing your skirt, which might've been riding up. He then moves away and growls with a whisper. “I told you to beat it, man! Nosy bastard.”

“Well you're right. I'm nosy. But I'm proud of you. She is the one, hey?” Ace’s chuckle is very warm and you sigh with a deep inhale. “But she's freaking hot, I don't know why she wants anything to do with you and-...”

“Enough, enough. Beat it.”

You still hear their whispered voices moving away. Ace sits down near you again, scooping you up in his arms and laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You're the one, alright.”

[prettyiwa]

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work.

Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: POV Miyuki Kazuya, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers (it's really hard to define these two), Soulmates (if you squint), Frenemy OC Who's Known Kazuya Too Long, Mentions of a Less-Than Stellar Home Life (not as bad as it sounds), Light Insecurity, Two Ships Passing Summary: Kazuya's search for you during his final New Year's break turns up empty, leaving him to reach out to your friend who never really liked him. Word Count: 1,540

A/N: Man, coming up with tags for this is difficult because their relationship is a little difficult to describe (it could also be that it's almost 3 AM and I am tired). Anyway, this intro isn't that great of a mood maker, but it sets up the "present" rather well. A grand thanks to @tyga-lily, as always, for being my sounding board and encouraging my bad ideas ♡♡

It was just as he was leaving for Seidou. Your anxiety was plain to see—for him, anyway. Shifting weight from foot to foot as you fiddled with your pencil in one hand while gripping your sketch book too tight in your other. It was one of those times when you two were on the same wavelength, not because you two just got each other like that, but because you two felt the same. He threw his arm around your shoulder and felt your annoyance aimed at his face and felt the moment it disappeared.

I’m coming back. It’s not like I’m not going to see you between now and graduation. You’ll be here when I get back, right? 

Yeah.

Age 18 | January 3

Funny, how quickly his excitement to see you is replaced with anxiety upon hearing your name. How quickly anticipation to reconnect properly since first attending Seidou sours into confusion and something a little too closely related to fear.

Akari repeats your name and Kazuya nearly flinches at the way she says it—like she’s talking about someone who’s died, someone long gone with no hope of returning. It comes out like a question, one with an answer she’s tried to forget. He watches as your name sits on her tongue, flavoring her thoughts as she considers her answer. 

With a sigh, she shrugs. “I honestly haven’t seen her in a bit. I mean, I see her at school, but she hasn’t been around the neighborhood in some time.”

“Seriously? She still lives here. What do you mean, you haven’t seen her? Where else would she be?”

Annoyance flashes across her face and her fingers tighten where they hold the door open and he’s sure she’s waiting for the chance to slam it in his face. “Really, Miyuki? You of all people can’t be surprised.”

Her frown deepens as she watches him, realizing he has nothing to say—despite her conviction, he of all people is surprised. It’s been a little bit since you two spoke, but… c’mon. You wouldn’t leave. You told him you’d wait for him to come back, even if he’s a little late on the “coming back” part. 

“Okay, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt because you can be dangerously obtuse at times. Ignoring the fact that her dad can’t work anymore and that she’s working to pay the bills, what did you think would happen when you left? You thought she’d be hunky-dory? Actually. That sounds about spot on for you, Miyuki.”

“Hey, now. You don’t need to be cruel about it. She hasn’t told me any of this.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious. She tells you everything.”

“She hasn’t told me anything for a couple of months now. Did something happen? Maybe she got a new phone?” Even as he asks, he knows that slim sliver of hope he’s searching for is bullshit. You’d still have his number memorized and it’s not like changing phone numbers is exactly easy. 

“You sound awfully upset. Are you worried that she stopped wanting to be your friend?”

“I’m not upset,” he bites, only serving to make her laugh, the sound sharp and unnecessarily harsh. 

You wouldn’t just leave him like that. You wouldn’t leave without talking to him first. At the very least, you’d give him a fighting chance. 

“Sure, you’re not upset. You’re so dramatic. It’s nothing like that. She didn’t get a new phone or a new number. It broke the last time she went home but she hardly ever used it in the first place.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

He’s not that worried about whether you got fed up with him—it’s been nearly three years since he’s seen you, but he still knows you a helluva lot better than that—but being in Akari’s presence is becoming increasingly grating. How you ever do it for more than thirty minutes at a time, he’ll never know. She stops him as he starts to turn to leave, too exacerbated by her attitude to bother with propriety. 

“Wait. Fine. You’re nowhere near as fun as you usually are.” Glad to know this is a game to her, though maybe it’s deserved. “She doesn’t go home at all, as far as I know. She bounces around between our homes as she needs, usually asking the day of if it’ll be fine, but it’s been a while since she’s asked me.” 

What the hell’s happened in the time since he’s left for you to get to this point? To not bother going home? What kind of friend is he if he didn’t even realize—? 

“Even if I don’t like you—”

“Yeah, you got that message across loud and clear.”

“Even if I don’t like you, you should at least know that she told me she doesn’t see a point in coming around if you’re not here. I personally don’t get it, but you’ve been friends with her for twice as long as I have so maybe it makes sense to you.”

“... Thanks.”

The door clicks shut behind him and he’s sure that both he and Akari are disappointed it wasn’t a slam, that there was something else at the end of this interaction other than a mutual dissatisfaction and vague helplessness. Frigid winter air brushes past him, reminding him of just how cold he actually is. With the afternoon sun beaming down, everything still feels devoid of warmth. No matter the sure and steady movements that should supply some heat, no matter the layers of clothing he wears, your absence is making everything much colder than it is. 

She doesn’t see a point in coming around if you’re not here. 

That’s no surprise. Of everything he learned today, that’s something that strikes him as genuinely you. You two’ve always been close and would always tuck your promises and the like in blunt explanations and blasé phrasing. Never would he have imagined that you would leave without an explanation to him and, yet, this is where he finds himself.

Is it because he’s barely come home? 

Since starting at the school, he’s only come home for the New Years’ celebrations. This is his third one, but the other two were packed with recovery from the winter training camp and making sure his dad was okay. He figured you’d be okay, too, even if the New Year traditions that existed between you two were put on hold. You never said anything, but was it stupid of him to make an assumption? Had he gotten too caught up in his desire to play and win that he missed something as big as this? 

Home's in sight, but he can’t return just yet. On top of trying to find you, he came out to grab some food. Honestly, he was hoping that you’d be able to come over tonight and hang out with him in the kitchen like you used to. He wanted to know whether your skills had improved at all or whether he was doomed to cook for you both until who only knows when, but that’s definitely not happening. 

At this point, he’s tired and there’s a new weight on his chest that he would like to rid himself of but, with what little ingredients are available at the house, he can’t skip this trip. But so long as he and his dad have something to eat tonight and tomorrow morning, things should be fine. He turns on his heel to hit the 7-eleven instead of the market and it strikes him just how different everything seems. 

Kazuya can’t tell—nor does he care to differentiate—whether it’s caused by time passing, by the start of a new era fast approaching or whether it’s caused by your startling absence. Either way, his ears ring with the trill of your laugh from years past, the light teasing and the stupid jokes you both would make. It’s impossible to walk these streets without the shadow of you beside him. It’s a shame that it took this to understand the weight behind your words, but, yeah.

Knowing you’re not here makes this visit far less pleasant than it would have been. 

As he nears his destination, he tries to ignore the bustling of the bus, preparing to carry away the majority of the would-be crowd at the convenience shop, but there’s this minute, inexplicable urge he gets to look again. It’s once he’s crossed the street does he give in, only to meet your stare through one of the passenger windows. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, same as him, and he takes a step in the direction of the bus, though you both know he won’t make it. The surprise melts away and you give him a smile and a chuckle that he hears despite the barriers. Your hair is shorter and you look more mature—though he’s sure he looks different to you, too—but it’s the familiar intimacy of your smile that steals his breath.

He’d like to run, to stop the bus and get on, but it’s already leaving before he can finish the thought. Kazuya misses you more than he believed possible, but the near-miss only serves to lighten that newfound weight on his chest, even if just a bit. 

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