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gnohomotho · 5 months ago

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Just a game (part 3) ۶ৎ

Pairing: Hwang In-ho / Front Man x fem!reader

Summary: The Front Man decides to meet you, finally, only...you don't know that. How better to toy with you than by being right next to you? He seems to have something in store for you, something that could help you - or perhaps himself. Musings, touchings, lots of inner machinations and pulls. Jealousy. Slow burn. He really does seem to like you. Warnings: It's still the God damn Front Man Possessiveness, stalking, touching, drugging, kidnapping, unauthorised GDPR implications, dominance play, general 18+ TW, age gap. Likely medical malpractice, but who am I to talk. Word count: 4k Proofread, and, unlike my thesis, I actually do know where this is going. Requests open. Link to previous Link to next

You were waiting.

The street was full of people, and you watched them walk on. Standing next to the post, just a little behind the hustle and bustle, so you wouldn’t be too ostentatious. You didn’t like being seen, nor being seen first. Which is ridiculous, you think, since this is a terrible idea, and you have no idea who you’re even waiting for. Of course they will see you first, fu---

You breathe out. Look at your shoes again. You check your bun, your hair still firmly in place. You’re wearing a large coat, but under it, you decided for full protective mode. Long sleeves, black stockings, sensible skirt, clingy but warm dark top that held your waist and neck in place. You check the time again. Always too early. The street keeps changing its momentary inhabitants. You sigh and check for pink, pink calms you down a tad. You did tell your housemate you’re doing something stupid and to watch his phone for emergency messages, then again, he’s used to you saying that and knowing you don’t do stupid things. Not anymore. He likely thinks you’re breaking into (arriving at a sensible time) an owl enclosure and committing grand larceny (petting owls). You smile to yourself and adjust your glasses. The ones you wear more for an additional barrier to shield from the world than eyesight. You don’t mind the world being a bit blurry and not seeing faces too well without them. You prefer it. Faces are…rather intense, too much going on at once. Just as a reflection in a puddle is safer and more informative than whatever it is reflecting. Barriers, barriers, glassy barriers, you humm a melody and forget to breathe again.

To recap, you think, “alright. You absolute dumbass. We have a man…” you ponder a second, “likely a man…” as you go through his actions of the last 24 hours, scanning the surroundings as you bury your mind in thought again, “who is likely absolutely fucking unhinged, knows far too much about you, is sending you creepy, lecherous, borderline sweet gifts, knows where you live, has some way of watching you do everything and now you are actively, of your own free will, doing as he says and placing yourself directly not on the red line, nooo, you jumped the red line and are firmly planted wherever they make the red lines to begin with.”

Then again, you shift your eyes to the left and back, you have nothing to lose. Eyes dropping a bit, you linger on the thought…really, nothing to lose. Smiling a little drily, a little bitterly to yourself, you think that even if he manages to hurt you, at least it’s not the same old same old “Roses are red, chocolate is brown, I expect nothing and I’m still let down.”

Just as you’re humming the third IRA anthem to yourself and wondering how exactly does Semtex fit into birthday candles, someone is coming your way. Slowly approaching you is a figure, in dark, well fitted trousers, neat shoes, a very normal, very elegant winter overcoat that reaches just above his knees. It’s beige, but you notice the rest of the outfit is dark. His hair is neatly swept to the side, turtleneck accentuating his dark eyes, and, well…

“Oh no, he’s hot.”

That was a joke, you say to yourself and don your perfect plastic smile that makes people think of escaped shop mannequins. You notice he’s almost an unnoticeable smidgeon taller than you, which is unusual and doesn’t alleviate your worries at all. There goes your tall feminine dominance technique. Making a small bow and immediately hating yourself for it, you try to say something adequate to the situation:

“...”

It’s 15:00.

He’s exactly on time.

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In-ho was ready at 12:00. He had everything planned and ready by 12:05 and patiently waited for the right time to leave. Everything was exactly outlined, down to his wardrobe, down to the last signal he’ll give to his last henchman. Wear something non-threatening which gives an air of protection. Hair down and neat, not brushed back. No limousines, no guards, no displays of power. Let’s not scare anyone just yet. Taking off his gloves as he finished the thought, he lightly held his index finger to his neck. Frowning, he placed the gloves on the table. His pulse was elevated. Is he excited? Giddy? Interested? No, of course not. He’s barely amused. Just a means to ease the monotony, nothing more. How better manipulate someone than by dangling their life before them? One hand offering the safety of a rope, the other holding the knife that cuts it.

He was in place at 14:30 and stood unseen. At 14:45 he saw a figure that caught his gaze. Tall, but trying not to be. Elegant. Sweet. Unapproachable. Amusingly, it seemed she accidentally stole his demeanour, looking like a schoolboy’s fantasy between a strict teacher and a sweet older friend on a night out. Guarded by every hint of her being, down to the last thread. But he didn’t sense fear, which surprised him a little. That was a tad disappointing. Intriguing, though. He straightened his stance and looked at nothing, people flowing by like a nondescript river. He can alleviate that, if need be. Oh, he definitely can.

This was the first time since seeing you with your ex-companion that he’s truly close to you. Actually close to you, breathing nearly the same air, seeing you in the flesh. Oh, the phone screen truly didn’t do you justice, he sighs, face still a mask. Somewhere his thoughts tried to revert – scanning you to find evidence of monotony, boredom, garish normality.

Projecting, doubting, reassuring himself. Making a perfectly balanced equation: his dreams, imagination, and whatever was left of his heart on one side, and his true self on the other.

So much time spent with you, meticulously going through your entire life. Every letter, every deleted message. He’s been with you ever since he first saw you. He’s been smiling at the way you speak when you’re almost giddy, catching himself softly chuckling with your jokes. The more he knew about you, the more he felt for them – seeing you truly saw the light at the end of the tunnel as another train. He’s been calmly extenuating his patience with your other interactions you would not wish to recount – and coldly reading things you wouldn’t tell if held at gunpoint. He’s been listening to your voice when you speak slowly, when you speak in poems, when you recount what makes you glad to speak of. He knows the voice you use with friends, with colleagues, and the voice you use when you’re truly fond of someone. He likes the words and rather higher, sweet tone you use when you’re a bit tipsy and your laugh when you forget to hide it – and he relishes your vocabulary when you decide to place someone in their place – politely, kindly, in a low, clear voice. He even knew the voice you used when someone needed help, when you listened, or when you helped spiders out of windows. Caring. Loving. Gentle. Inauthentic and a bit tired if they strained your patience, but you never retaliated. He went back into your past, sorting each and every paper, document, photograph. The further he went, the more his smile dissolved away from his eyes and grew into a cold, stable expression again. He did lean into them for a moment, turning off his orchestral music, and leaned back staring at nothing for quite a while. Musing, he then went back to the present and read reports on your interactions – be it with your ex-companion, housemate, friend, potential love affair you would never have. Faint intrigue grew into something of an affliction, though he’d never admit it, and became something that needed disproving or breaking before it got out of hand, but even then, it needed a fair trial and a good, balanced equation. Yet the lady now before him was actively kicking the base of the scales.

14:59.

Let the game commence.

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“Y/N?” The man smiles at you exceptionally disarmingly. His entire demeanour changes before your eyes, like watching dark embers huddle and ignite into warm orange light – there is a nice older man with dark eyes, looking very subtly down at you, stance as safe as a falling autumn leaf, not invading your personal space.

“I do hope I did not keep you waiting.” He chuckles and quickly looks from side to side.

“The boss said you’d be here and didn’t exactly give me the best description.” His smile reaches his eyes as he laughs a little once more, you notice his body language is directly mannering his words and expressions – little movements, fidgets, correct turning of the head with his gaze, never looking at you as you’d expect…his boss? To look at you. Everything seems to fit perfectly in place, in time. The back of your head is tingling, but you put it to rest. The sigh of relief you breathe likely butterfly-effected a hurricane on the other side of the globe.

“Oh thank God.” You bend a little in the knees and let out a nervous, quiet laugh. “This is so fucked up,” you think to yourself immediately and straighten again. No matter how much you subtly raise your spine or position your legs, he is still everso minutely looking down at you.

“Your boss?” You take off your glasses for drowning precautions. You do have a thing for dark eyes and creepy bodies of water.

The man nods, still lightly smiling. Somehow, his forearm is closer to you than it was before, though you didn’t notice movement. His fingers are beautiful, you catch yourself resting your eyes between their milky skin and their firm elegance. You notice a few healed scars, and shift a tad further, up his wrist. You like firm, gentle hands and arms. Not blind strength, more so hidden fervour of a pianist or a longbowman. Subtle, perfectly balanced, not a movement wasted. But strong enough to snap your neck. Pulling yourself away at least mentally, you listen for his breath, search for some hint of subterfuge or wrongness, or even nervousness – it would calm you down. If he just went full Anton Chigurh on you right now, you’d probably be calmer due to expecting such a thing and being far more used to it. But no. The curve of his darker lips rests as it did before, no sighs, no wasted breaths. His eyes are pointed but not invading, as if taking you in his own little bubble in front of him. Nothing more, nothing less. The visage breaks as he lifts his hand to yours and smiles again.

“May I offer an arm as we walk?” He placed his arm before you, and before you could say “I think the fuck not,” he was already pulling out a light scarf and wrapping his arm where you were offered to hold.

“I would not wish for you to be uncomfortable,” he leans his head to the side ever so slightly in a very sweet gesture, still smiling politely. “It’s for safety, not intrusion.” You carefully hooked your palm under and around his arm and tried to at least keep the rest of your body at a distance from his. He truly was quite disarming. For safety? What a polite way to say, ‘my boss told me you’re about as stable as a two-legged horse on a bender and if you manage to faint on the street, you’ll attract too much attention.’ As you walked and tried to slow your racing mind between bursts of apathy at how dangerous your situation truly was, you kept thinking that something was familiar here. You’ve never seen this man before, who is probably as scared as you are, if that’s the boss he has to work with, and he seems quite lovely. Dark, silent, but quite lovely. But something is gnawing at the back of your head, some faint sense of déjà vu, something familiar and very wrong.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”

Again, it sounded pleasant, kind, with no ill intent... But cold. Something still missing. As if he were reading a poem, reciting, without feeling.

“You seem to be shivering.”

You look down. “Just a bit cold, mister…” oh. “Mister…?”

He gave a half-hearted smile, “I’m sorry, miss Y/N, the boss forbids us to share too much personal information.”

Your turn to frown into the palm of reality that just slapped you across the face.

“Can I call you anything else, kind-not-named-sir? Something that you might like? It doesn’t have to be a name. Just so I may speak to you, as we are.” You smile and stop, looking into his eyes. He didn’t say a thing as seconds slipped by, looking back into yours.

“I’ll have to clear that with the boss, but don’t worry. I will. Once our affairs are in order.” He turned himself away and lead you on.

“But more importantly, miss Y/N. How are you feeling?”

That sentence. Again and again. You don’t think he’ll actually listen. You’ve been in enough doctor’s rooms and enough self-help groups and enough therapy to loathe the sentence almost as much as the lack of interest behind it. No matter how well this man carried himself or his momentary assignment with you, no matter how immediately your body reacted to his presence and how your brain wished to both cower and study him intently, and perhaps shut him up with a kiss (just to make sure you definitely wouldn’t enjoy it and go home), this man wasn’t safe.

“Kind not-named-sir, I think I would like to be silent.”

Somehow, the streets seemed emptier, or perhaps the distance between you and everyone else seemed to deepen. Though his hand wasn’t squeezing yours and it was your will to hold onto his, it felt like a shackle you would not be able to break if you tried. And if you called out, you felt like you would be muffled before you got a gasp out. As if you were carrying around a field of a chasm. As you walked, you felt his eyes on your body, everso subtly. Not in a lecherous way, moreso in a way that conveyed study and care. Precaution. If someone got too close, you felt a slight pull to sway his way. When you slowed down because you were not doing so well, his eyes darted from your neck to your stomach to your face again. But he didn’t say a word. On one occasion, you noticed crows above you, squawking their beaks off. Perhaps a warning, you think, but got back to your typical thoughts – a hello. One of them seemed to gutturally wish to cry something rather important. Stopping to look up, your not-named-sir stops as well. But his head doesn’t copy your movements, he’s staring at you.

Still looking at the crows, you feel more at ease and less invested in being corporeal. They seem so free, so lovely, so wise. So beautiful. You don’t look at the man as you speak.

“I used to know a man who thought of me when he saw or heard crows.” Your voice is low, slow, and grows…thoughtful. “He would tell me they have dialects. He would speak to me of having trouble hearing me each time we called each other, since they pooled around him and cawed and cawed and cawed their hearts out; he would open his window for me to see and leave me there to keep watch. When I told him I saw none but tried to caw at them very quietly as a youngling calls to its mother, he lit up like a Christmas tree.” You smile, warmth unravelling in your chest just enough to keep the cold at bay, only to yourself, eyes still flying with the crows. “When I fell into his arms week after week, having no concern for gravity nor control nor being too heavy in body and mind, finally leaving it up to someone else, someone I trusted…” Your smile wanes into a wistful line and your eyes sadden down, “God knows he cared very little for me, but I could pretend. Just like I am doing now, kind not-named-sir.”

You look directly at him, sinking your gentle gaze into his dark pools.

“A game of pretend.”

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As you walked together, In-ho didn’t let his eyes wander without purpose. A stationed guard in plain clothes stood at every corner, the walk meticulously planned. Down to the colour of the shawl he wrapped around his arm for you to hold. He watched you, though. He listened to your voice – that melodic voice he had only dreamt of as of late. When you spoke of yourself, you were barely audible, more a hush than a voice. When you inquired for his name, your voice went up an octave and the words came out clearly, with interest and genuine wonder. Care…even. You truly seemed to compartmentalize each second with him and around him, and within them, you placed care on an unwitting underling who could, and should, have your worst interests at heart. In-ho caught himself smiling when you weren’t looking. The curve of your lips, the inviting roundness of your cheekbones, the gentle but intense eyes…they made him think of players who gave up and failed the game.

Yes, that was it. Weakness. Or…he scanned further. No, not…quite so. Weakness is what he wanted to see. But it…wasn’t quite there. Those players died, yes, but they did so with purpose and disregard for a prize. Their eyes saw Death and greeted Them as an old friend. You walked as someone who had walked a path before. Someone who cares more for a curious spider along the way to the gallows than the hangman tying the noose. His head was having trouble wrapping around it, and discontent wasn’t a state he felt too often nor too fondly. In-ho was a very intelligent man, and he knew quite well that he wasn’t going to sense the sought-for weakness. He, in the back of the back of his mind, knew exactly what was in front of him and why, but he didn’t wish for it to be that way, and it did not align with the manner of his games. He truly hoped to see weakness, an excuse, frivolity. Verification for the rules he had put in place so very long ago. Perhaps he would discard you altogether. Perhaps drive you mad first. Use you. Break you. Leave you empty. Yes. Perhaps. That would be best. His grip on you tightened for a moment, thoughts growing colder, bathing in a darker pool. Anger. He felt anger towards those players. That wasn’t the way of the game. That wasn’t how the world worked. It didn’t fit his equation he based the better part of his life upon, it was entirely incongruent with his preconceived notions, his carefully planned life. People are disposable, weak, cowardly – barely insects. They will eat their own for a chance to step on another face. Then came your voice once more, humming through his brain.

You didn’t know, of course, but In-ho was well aware of who you were referring to. Down to his address and last whereabouts. And you couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to become so very wistful. To let your voice breathe a poem for another man, a man of nothing. The caring, gentle tone, with words wrapped in silk, slow, slow whispers for someone else, someone who gave you nothing in return. Those eyes softening as they gazed at the birds above you, the lips so eager and sweet. Your chest lifted as you spoke, allowing more breath and you seemed so…peaceful. In-ho felt his fingers twitch; the anger was cold, as cold as a flame that has traversed all colours and arrived at nothing but white. Though he reminded himself that he felt nothing for you, his control was slipping. In his presence alone, you allowed such incredible insolence, in the face of a man who could end your life in a gesture – such incredible audacity, while being and sounding calm and polite. Even without a name, you managed to call him “sir”. Then came your last sentence and In-ho might have lost an inkling of his balance were he not chained to the cold stone by sheer resolute thought of consequences specially crafted for you. Might have lost his balance if it didn’t intrigue the anger right out of his chest.

How did she know?

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She didn’t.

You arrived at your destination, and he took you inside a rather normal looking building. It was different than offices you were used to, there was nobody else around and the chairs were heavy. No running off. It was different than the hospitals you grew to loathe, but still. The henchman said nothing more, only guided you. You noticed he was more reserved. He left the room as you spoke to a woman, then a man, then another woman – all clothed in white with no names on their doors or clothing. You barely heard their words; your brain was full of each and every door that closed behind you. “Operation, procedure, aftercare…” It all slipped into one river and carried on around you. You didn’t sign anything, you wanted out. Too many doors, too many ways of escape blocked. Too many masked faces. You should have known you were walking into trouble when you tried to write your housemate and someone took your phone for safekeeping, disappearing into the white halls. You tried to remain calm, as you were sitting in the third heavy chair of the day clinging to your knees with faintly shivering hands, and quite simply decided to excuse yourself and make a run for it the moment the lady in front of you turns her back.

Yet it wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder and a brush against your ear that you knew you messed up. Messed up fatally. The woman in front of you seemed to grow fainter, leaving a blur of a shape behind her as she stood up to walk out of the room. Throat. Pain. Brush. Cold touch. A small gasp left your lips as you feel the prick in your neck begin to hurt and spread and you…you try to get up. Fast. And fail. Aided by the unseen figure firmly pushing you back down; your legs wouldn’t be able to carry you anyway. You slowly, painfully, with a frozen streak running down your back realise you are at the mercy of someone who is, at best, cruel. The last thing you remember is a hand caressing your neck in place of the pain, circling a fingertip around its tender centre. A hushed voice hums in your ear, soothing you with words that did not belong here.

“Shhh, little one…hush.”

You cannot move away, when you try to, his low murmur drags you back and his lightly placed fingers dig in to lean you back into him. Your heart tries to leap in panic, but it is tired. Your chest is tired. You are so very, very tired. Your head is heavy, leaning back on its own accord into the man behind you, next to you, you are no longer sure. You let him cradle you in his hands as you slip away. As he slowly runs his fingers through your hair to the rhythm of his breathing, you feel long, gentle fingers, like those of a piano player, hold and cradle your heavy mind. His hands caress you through your hair, meticulously, slowly, reassuringly. You let yourself fade into his touch.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…you’re doing so well for me.”

Miles away, you smiled up into the dark – someone said you did well. How lovely. The touch was so lovely. Everything seemed safely dark; you felt for his voice and his faint breath on your neck to hold onto.

“My good girl.”

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allwaswell16 · 21 days ago

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A fic rec of One Direction fics in which a character struggles to say "I love you" and shows their feelings in other ways as requested by @enchantedlandcoffee <3 If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

💛 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere

(E, 149k, superheroes) Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside. But this isn’t that universe. //an X-Men AU.

💛 Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) by @lululawrence

(NR, 83k, age difference) Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost. Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.

💛 You are a lovely adjective, no word ever enough by @angelichl

(M, 56k, ptsd) The hurt/comfort AU in which Harry leaves away an abusive relationship, and Louis offers to share his flat.

💛 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 46k, friends to lovers) Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.

💛 Let Me Down Slowly by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(NR, 39k, established relationship) When you’ve been let down by people as much as Louis has, falling in love can be hard, but not quite as hard as letting someone in and trusting that goodbye won’t break you.

💛 You're the Light (series) by @allwaswell16

(E, 39k, newspaper) Before beginning a new graduate school in the fall, Louis Tomlinson decides to spend the summer working in Chicago as an editor’s assistant for the Chicago Tribune newspaper. What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who also happens to be his new boss.

💛 Fall At My Door by @kingsofeverything

(E, 29k, fwb) A-list actor Harry Styles and award-winning musician Louis Tomlinson have an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship, so whenever their busy professional lives happen to land them in the same city, they meet up. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

💛 One Minute to Midnight by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 29k, curses) Everything is going well until the day after Louis gets promoted when he wakes up forty years older than his actual age. Two years later he's adapted to his new life as a retiree, but he's lonely and desperate for company closer to his real age during the rigorous holiday party season

💛 the evenness i fake by @shimmeringevil

(E, 26k, omegaverse) Harry has a perfectly enjoyable friends-with-benefits agreement with a perfectly lovely omega, and he doesn’t see the need to change that anytime soon. The small fact that Louis giving his attention to another alpha makes Harry want to put his head through a wall isn’t nearly as much of an issue as everyone’s making it out to be.

💛 Saw It In Your Eyes by @taggiecb

(E, 15k, roommates) It doesn’t bother him at all that his new roommate is gay. In fact, they get along so well that they have formed an extremely close friendship that takes up pretty much all his free time. When Louis starts bringing a new guy home with him, Harry is surprised by how much it bothers him.

💛 The Orchards of Jessop by @jaerie

(E, 15k, age difference) Louis hadn’t thought retiring before he reached 30 and moving to the countryside would mean that he’d be doing it alone. Now, just to fill the space, he welcomes lodgers into his home that pass through working as temporary labourers at the orchards just up the road.

💛 Captain Cupid by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, friends to lovers) the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

💛 Almost Misheard by @tommokat

(T, 6k, friends to lovers) “You also said you were almost out of toothpaste but kept forgetting to get more. And I needed more floss so I was already over in that aisle.”

💛 I Want You to Linger by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 6k, alpha nesting) A friends-to-lovers fic in which oblivious alpha Louis courts his best friend, nests with the gifts he gets him, and is faced with the reality that sometimes telling someone you love them doesn’t go to plan (but turns out better in the end anyway).

💛 No More Running by evelynemesis / @evenise

(E, 5k, fwb) He's sure he saw it when for the first time, two nights ago, Harry asked him to stay.

💛 my favourite colour is you by velvetnoodle

(M, 2k, friends to lovers) Harry would scoff whenever the people closest to them would question their lack of an actual relationship, because the idea of the two of them being anything more than friends is the most preposterous thing he can think of.

- Rare Pairs -

💛 It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, Liam/Louis) the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?

#ficrec #hlcreators #hljournal #1dficvillage #1dficlibrary #weekly recs #trackinghome

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neptuneiris · 7 months ago

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Cruel Summer (07/10)

Hidden Coast

pairing: modern!aemond x fem!reader

summary: feelings continue to flourish stronger than ever and now that you have already experienced life at Crowns, it is now the turn of a certain rich guy to experience life at Black Waves.

words: 9.5k

previous part • series masterlist

okay, let's see how things continue with this story after my long disappearance (sorry, I was very busy with work and my schedule changes) i hope to get support, not just hearts as you need to comment and reblog, please.

i have seen how the activity has dropped in the HOTD world and i don't want to not have more motivation for this story when there are people who want the ending. I have a lot planned and any constructive feedback is more than welcome. thank you guys, enjoy!

"Are you ready?"

You look excitedly at Aemond in front of you, with a small smile on your lips.

"More than ready."

The jet ski's engine purrs softly with Aemond already sitting on top of it, waiting for you, ready to take you for a ride.

It's your first time on one of these bikes and you're clearly excited. Obviously a ride on one of these is afforded by the rich, either because they can afford it or because they have jet skis of their own.

You didn't even see it when Aemond first showed you the yacht. It was off to the side at the yacht, also being maintained and cared for by the people in the harbor that his family pays for maintenance and protection.

And when he let you know that his family also has one of these and showed it to you, you quickly as a little girl and completely thrilled told him that you had always wanted to ride in one of these.

And that's why now you're both here.

You make sure your vest is on properly and take his hand, where he helps you keep your balance as you stand behind him, taking a seat, then wrap your arms around his torso tightly.

"Hold on tight," he tells you, placing his hands on top of yours and watching you over his shoulder, "I won't go very fast but still."

He gives you a few more instructions but the truth is you can't concentrate one hundred percent. Not when he looks like this.

His tousled silver hair, his bare arms, the sunglasses he's wearing and his hands gripping the throttle lever, marking his bones and veins. A truly breathtaking sight, especially when you're holding him so tightly.

Then he again looks at you expectantly over his shoulder and you nod.

"Okay."

He makes sure one last time that you're holding on to him tightly and finally accelerates, both of you gliding out into the open water with the salty ocean air filling your lungs.

You feel the sea breeze begin to hit your face, lifting your hair. There's a lot of motion from the bike cutting through the waves with ease and water splashing in all directions.

Then he accelerates a little faster and you cling to him completely.

You stare in wonder at the horizon, where the ocean is endless and where the sun makes the water sparkle with little silvery glints as you and Aemond get further and further away from the shore by the second.

You leave the hustle and bustle of the beach and the town behind, until only the sea and the immense sky in front of you both remain.

The wind hits hard against your face, as does the breeze every second and you feel the adrenaline take over your whole body, smiling and happy to finally be experiencing this.

"Faster!"

Aemond looks over his shoulder at you and doesn't hesitate to oblige your request. He speeds up even more, and the jet ski glides over the waves with even greater speed, drawing a free and carefree laugh from you.

The force of the wind means you can barely keep your eyes open, but you don't want to miss a second of this view.

You feel your heartbeat accelerate, and the excitement fills you with a seemingly endless energy. Each leap over the waves is like a small flight and you feel like you could fly.

You cling to Aemond's waist tighter, enjoying the moment, here, with him, it couldn't be more perfect.

After a while, Aemond slows down and you look out into the short distance at a place you have seen from many summers ago. Since you were a little girl coming here with your mom, specifically.

You still remember how you excitedly told her that one day you would want to come here. So does Alysanne.

You gaze raptly at the large lighthouse that towers in the middle of the sea, not far off the coast of Sunset's. Aemond circles around it at a slower speed, allowing you to admire it, watching as some eagles fly at the top where the lighthouse ends its height, being a truly beautiful sight.

"Do you want to come up!?"

He asks you over the sound of the engine and the waters crashing against each other with every displacement of the bike. And you watch him in surprise, also excited.

"Sure!"

Aemond speeds toward the pier, where the waves rock gently against the worn pillars and where the place seems anchored in time, as if no change of season or year could alter its stillness.

When the jet ski comes to a stop, Aemond jumps off first, making sure it is securely fastened, and then reaches out to help you. His grip is firm but gentle and comforting, helping to steady you.

Afterwards, you walk together toward the base of the lighthouse, where it stands imposingly in front of you, its white structure contrasting with the evening sky. The paint, though somewhat faded, still reflects the light of the sun's last rays.

“Can we come in?”

“We can,” he nods.

“But is anyone inside?”

“There should be. But it's still early,” he says nonchalantly, ”We'll be gone before they show up.”

The old but sturdy steel door opens with a loud creak as Aemond pushes it open. And you step cautiously in behind him, watching as the light illuminates the interior a little more and with the foot of the stairs just to one side of the large door.

“Watch the steps, they're kind of narrow,” he tells you as he holds the door open for you.

You frown slightly, placing yourself in front of him.

“You've come here before?”

He nods.

“With Daeron, last year.”

You both step further in, and Aemond closes the door behind him.

The interior is cool and quiet. Everything looks too old, too, but still captivating. The little light coming in through small round windows casts irregular patterns on the wall, creating an almost magical feeling.

The two begin to climb the spiraling staircase and Aemond is right, the steps are worn and creak under the weight. Ocean breezes occasionally filter through the windows, and you can smell the salt in the air mixed with the scent of old wood.

“When I was a kid, I used to imagine what it would be like to come up here,” you say as you walk forward, “I've always seen this lighthouse in the distance and…I don't know, I thought it was amazing to come. Dad always told me, in his crazy stories, that you could see the whole world at the top of the lighthouse,” you explain with a small nostalgic smile, ”Although Alysanne always told me it must be no big deal.”

“And why didn't you ever come?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“We didn't have enough money to rent a jet ski,” you admit, ”Mom always said this was for tourists or people with money, which she was right. But… money was needed for other things, not for this.”

He doesn't say anything to you right away, but when you reach the bottom of the stairs, he stops beside you and says in a soft voice, “I'm glad you're doing it now.”

You smile at him, and there's something warm in the way he looks at you, as if he understands what this moment means to you. Finally, you both reach the top.

He steps forward and carefully opens the rusty door leading outside. The metallic creak mingles with the roar of the wind rushing in, bringing with it the salty scent of the ocean.

Excited, you walk through the door and step outside, where the lighthouse culminates in a small circular platform surrounded by a metal railing. And from here, the view takes your breath away.

The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see, the sun slowly sinks into the sea, painting everything with a palette of oranges, pinks and purples. The waves reflect the colors as if they were a liquid canvas, and the sound of the sea below seems amplified, like a constant whisper that envelops everything.

And even though you can't see the whole world, as your dad used to tell you, it's still beautiful.

“It's more beautiful than I imagined,” you murmur, barely able to look away from the landscape.

You feel Aemond approach, his presence solid and comforting behind you. Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around your waist, gently resting his chin on your shoulder.

His embrace is firm but tender, and in that instant, you feel protected, as if this moment was designed just for the two of you. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the wind caress your face and thinking about your dad.

You wonder what it would have been like to be here with him, how he would have told another one of his fantastic stories as the sun illuminated his face.

A lump forms in your throat, and you hold back the urge to cry, because you know that, somehow, he would be happy that you are doing it now.

You turn to Aemond, placing your hands gently on his face. His eye, a deep blue and gray, looks at you with curiosity and something else you can't quite identify, but which fills your chest with warmth.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him with emotion and tenderness.

He smiles, a small but genuine smile, and rests his forehead against yours, letting the moment envelop you both.

You both return to the harbor and Aemond again secures the jet ski next to the yacht, while you wait for him, taking off your life vest.

"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" you ask him, unsure.

He looks at you slightly confused.

"My phone?"

"Yeah, it's just... mine doesn't turn on," you explain briefly and he watches you intently, "It died on the way over here and I want to let Alysanne know I'm staying with you tonight."

"Sure," he tells you with no problem.

He finally manages to secure the jet ski and walks over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder and you both start heading towards the yacht.

"But what's wrong with your phone?" he asks you curious and attentive.

"Well, it's old and the battery is failing," you say a little embarrassed, "It takes about three hours to charge to at least fifty percent."

You both go up to the second floor deck and he slides the doors for you, both of you stepping inside the yacht.

"You need a new one."

He tells you as he walks over to the small kitchen island, picking up his phone and you sigh.

"Yeah, I know. I'll buy one when I get a new job or have it fixed. That's what I always do when it starts to malfunction."

"No need. I'll buy it for you."

"What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, holding out his phone to you, "I need you to have your phone with you at all times so I can contact you. And obviously I can't do that if it's no working."

"But... no," you look at him completely incredulous and surprised, "No. You can't just buy me a new phone and that's it. You can't do—

"Of course I can, Y/N," he interrupts you completely unconcerned.

"But n-no... it's... it's not..." you babble, "I mean, you can't."

He places a small grin as he rolls his eye and watches you with a condescending look, leaning against the kitchen island in a casual motion.

"And why not, according to you?"

"Because it costs a lot of money!"

"Yeah... and your point?"

"My point..." you remark, still incredulous, "Is that it's a lot of money to buy a new one."

He frowns slightly, still with that little grin on his lips.

"And that's why I can't?"

"Well, I-I... you... I mean—

"Stop doing that," he interrupts you in a soft voice as he sits up and walks over to you, "It's nothing. I can buy you a new one."

He stops in front of you and places a hand on the back of your head and then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I know it's a lot for you. But I can afford it."

"But... you don't understand," you look at him uncertainly, "I can't afford it. And suddenly having one of these," you point to his phone in your hand, "will draw attention. Besides, I don't want it to look like I'm taking advantage of you."

"Oh, believe me, you can take advantage of me all you want, darling. And I wouldn't mind."

He tells you still with that fucking grin on his lips then leans in and kisses you deeply.

His hands rest on your waist and you bring your free hand to the back of his head, moving your lips against his and gently stroking his hair. Then you both pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours.

"I'm serious," you murmur.

"And so do I," he tells you in a more serious tone of voice, "Don't worry about any of that. You're not taking advantage of me. I want to. Besides, you'd better get used to it."

You gently shake your head.

"You're joking."

"Hm. Are you sure about that?"

He again closes the distance between you and kisses you with more need, though with the same depth as before. You gasp into his mouth and reciprocate his kiss, clinging tighter to him.

His fingers firmly squeeze the skin of your waist and send electric waves throughout your body, as you let yourself be completely enveloped by him.

"I'm dead serious with you."

He says in a husky voice against your lips and you begin to feel the level between the two of you begin to rise, becoming more desperate and needy.

"No, you're not."

"You think so, baby?"

He cooed and before you can say anything else, he interrupts you by attacking your lips again and lifting you off your hips, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso.

You let out a surprised little laugh as he settles you better in his arms and heads for the stairs. Or towards the bedroom, specifically.

You watch Alysanne with a huge smile and a dreamy look on your face as you finish telling her all about your day yesterday and how much fun you had with Aemond.

“And how was your night?” she inquires you with that mischievous look.

Instantly your cheeks burn and you look at her with embarrassment mixed with reproach.

“I don't intend to tell you anything about it.”

But she can already get the idea just by looking at your reaction.

“Lucky bitch.”

You let out a small laugh, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You could have these experiences too, you know?”

“Which ones, specifically?”

You look at her with an obvious look.

“You know, the yacht, the jet skis, and life at Crown's.”

She rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh.

“You mean because of Cregan?��

“Who else?” you inquire, ”Why hasn't anything happened between the two of you? It's weird.”

“Cause it would be weird.”

“Weird?” you look at her blankly.

“A guy from Crown's with a girl from Black Waves.”

“Oh, come on,” you look at her incredulously, ”Are you not seeing my situation? Besides…” you say, remembering, ”didn't you tell me that if you were in my place with Aemond, you'd agree to be with him?”

“Well, yes but… Cregan hasn't really acted or said anything to me,” she justifies herself, “Yes, I've seen his looks, his actions and his behaviors but,” she sighs, “I don't know. He hasn't really come on to me.”

“Come on, you and Cregan together is easier and less complicated than Aemond and I,” you say, ”Cregan has no girlfriend and no responsibilities. He doesn't have to please his father and he has a lot of freedom.”

She is silent for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“Yeah, I know.“

She lets out a sigh again and neither of you say anything else for a few long seconds. Until she speaks again.

“By the way…” she, thoughtfully, “Since you talked about his dad and his girlfriend, how exactly are you and Aemond doing so you don't get caught?”

“Well…” you murmur, “ His dad he doesn't see much of him in the day. Only Aemond knows the days when he's going to need him and is there for him. With his siblings and mom it's easier. He only says he wants to be alone and leaves home to meet me on the pier or in the harbor.”

“And Floris?”

“He tells her that he's busy getting ready to take his management course before he goes off to college,” you explain, “And it's not totally untrue. When he's with me, I've seen him looking up program recommendations and reviews online.”

“Hm, very clever,” she says as she nods then lies back on the bed completely, “I don't know about you but I find your whole situation… exciting,” she says as she looks at you with a small smile.

“Exciting how?”

“I mean, like exciting and scary at the same time,” she explains, “And also like a movie-like, of forbidden love. The rich guy and the poor girl who can't be together because they'll be judged before society, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows slightly at the comment, amused.

“Well, it's not totally far from reality.”

“Like the prince and the commoner, the millionaire and the maid, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Noah and Ally, Romeo and Juliet—

“Romeo and Juliet?” you interrupt her, amused and incredulous, ”I hope neither or both of us have to die so we can be together in heaven.”

“Well, you know, two completely opposite worlds doomed to be apart…though without the tragic ending, please,” she says as she laughs, sitting up a bit from the bed and propping herself up on her elbows, ”But, you know, it would also be like Jack and Rose. Although you'd be Jack and Aemond would be Rose.”

You frown, watching her.

“You, poor and free,” she points at you with her index finger, “Him, rich and trapped in world he hates with a dad who hates too.”

“I hope our story doesn't end up sinking like a giant ship in the middle of the ocean,” you mutter.

“Okay, so another example… like, um… Aladdin,” she snaps her fingers, “But it would also be the other way around, you, a thief of the streets, him, a prince with the full weight of his kingdom's expectations. Although…“ she pauses and looks at you mischievously, "Aemond doesn't have a magic carpet, does he?”

You laugh and shake your head.

“No, but he does have a jet ski.”

“And a late model car, a yacht, a mansion..” she lists, “Businesses, infinite credit cards—

“Yes, but that's not why I'm with him,” you interrupt her, indignant.

“I know but you get my point, right? The whole forbidden love thing, with restrictions, secret meetings, no freedom and where everything can end well… or bad,” she tells you with a look and a condescending tone, ”Obviously you both want to be together. But if you get caught, there will be a scandal all over town and who knows how his family will react. And Floris too.”

You look at her again confused.

“We had already had this conversation and you were the one who told me to take the risk?”

“Yes but that's not what I'm talking about.”

“Then?”

She sighs and looks at you with a more serious look.

“You and Aemond must have a plan if that happens.”

“A plan?” you repeat.

“Yeah. Have you two talked about what you'll do if you get caught?"

“Yeah… well, sort of, when he went looking for me with Cregan,” you explain, "The plan…” you start to say, trying to sound more confident than you feel, “is that he'll protect me.”

“Protect you?” she repeats, confused, ”How?”

“Well, we didn't exactly say those words but, basically, he won't let his or Floris' family near me. I just have to stay on my side of town and… I'll be fine.”

She folds her arms, expectantly.

“And then?”

You sigh.

“We won't be able to talk or… see each other, obviously.”

“But he's going to fight his family and his dad, right? To do what he wants and to be with you… right?”

“That's the plan,” you nod, '“If all goes well, that would be a miracle but if it doesn't…” you watch her fearfully, “We'll have to say goodbye.”

Alysanne gestures as she lets out a sigh again.

“Maybe this will be harder and riskier than I thought.”

“Yeah, I knew you'd say that after convincing me to be with him clandestinely,” you tell her with a scowl.

“Y/N, look—

“But you're right,” you interrupt her again, ”I mean, I knew all along. I know the risks we're taking and yet… I'm willing to do it and so is he. We both talked about it and we know this won't be easy, but it's what we want.”

She looks at you quietly, her expression in slight concern.

“Aemond has to deal with and please his family's expectations and control, without being able to do what he really wants. And I… I want to help him, to make him live, enjoy and have some freedom, if only for a moment.”

“Even if that freedom is temporary and you both end up very hurt?”

You shrug, shaking your head.

“It will have been worth it. Because, at least, we'll have tried. Or that's what you told me, if I remember correctly.”

She lets out a laugh and you follow her instantly, where after you both fall silent, as she watches you with a soft smile.

“I guess you're brave after all… or stubborn, depending on how you look at it.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter.

“Runs in the family. I learned that from you.”

At that moment, her phone rings and she picks it up, while you stand for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“We should go now,” she lets you know, looking at her phone screen, “Chase says he's already with the guys at the beach. Cregan's going too.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree, instantly grabbing your phone, “I'll text Aemond to meet us there too.”

You send him the message without a problem, as Alysanne watches you in amusement.

“Doesn't it make you anxious to have to tell the guys about you and Aemond?”

“Why? They already saw us on the beach the other day.”

“Yeah, but… you know, you'll have a lot of explaining to do. A lot.”

“I guess I'll just have to put up with it.”

Pretty soon the two of you head down to the beach, especially the place where you always have the bonfire gatherings. And sure enough, the boys are already there, taking a break before surfing.

But as soon as Sam sets his eyes on you, questions begin to form in his mind, like bubbles, questions that he immediately asks you and that raise more questions in Daniel and Chase.

“How did it come up?”

“What happened?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Is it true that his family has three yachts?”

“Does his family know about the two of you?”

“I'm very confused.”

“He's with Floris, isn't he?”

“He's cheating on Floris with you?”

“So you're the other woman?”

“Will you guys stop?”

Alysanne tells them instantly serious, managing to get all three of them to shut up.

“You guys aren't going to bring that back when he gets here. It's reckless and rude. Do you guys want to embarrass Y/N or have him think us stupid and disrespectful?”

Daniel snorts.

“Please, he's a fucking Targaryen.”

“He already considers us stupid, shitty poor things,” Sam says with a scowl.

“He doesn't consider Y/N like that,” Alysanne reminds them.

“But what happened?” Chase insists, looking at you confused and interested, 'I always thought it would be Cregan and her,” he points to your cousin, “But Aemond Targaryen and you?” he says incredulously, “I mean, really, when and what happened?”

You step forward towards them, letting out a sigh.

“I'll tell you everything but first promise not to act weird around him and try to include him to the group,” you tell them seriously.

“Include him in the group?” Sam repeats incredulously.

“I don't understand anything,” Daniel also says.

So, you explain. You tell them about everything, from the beginning at the pier until now, answering their questions, taking advantage of the fact that he hasn't arrived yet.

You explain to them about his relationship with Floris, a brief explanation of his relationship with his father and what he has to do obligatorily for his family's business, or rather empire.

And also what the two are doing together, all in secret. At least it makes them less confused and they have a clearer idea of what is going on between the two of you.

And although the three of them promised not to be weird around him and to include him in the group, as soon as Aemond arrives and you introduce him, in fact they include him instantly, but not being weird, they don't do it well.

And everything you explained to them, they corroborate with him, talking to him about it and asking him questions, while you all wait for Cregan sitting in the sand.

“Your old man not letting you live, even make your own decisions, must be awful, dude.”

Sam says to Aemond with a look of pity on his side, at the same time Chase and Daniel corroborate in conversation.

“I mean, you're of age now, aren't you?”

“Yeah but having a dad like his… you don't really have much of a choice.”

“What do you mean? Like a powerful, rich, influential dad?”

“Guys,” you mumble, looking apologetically at Aemond beside you.

But he only remains silent, with a small soft smile on his lips, simply listening to them.

“No, no, we're just saying it must be awful.”

“Yeah but it's not that awful either… is it?” Daniel says doubtfully, “I mean, you still have it all, like a very expensive car…” he points to his car parked in the distance, “yachts, lots of money and pretty much life settled, bro.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes and turns to Aemond.

“Excuse him. You're with a bunch of poor people, it's obvious we're not going to understand.”

“No, it's okay,” Aemond says still with his little smile, ”I understand you have a different point of view.”

“It's not all about money and everything you can buy with it,” Sam agrees.

“But it is,” Chase shrugs, “In a way.”

“We don't have those things, dude,” Daniel says, “We have to work, make a living, somehow survive, while you don't have to do anything because you already have everything,” he points to Aemond, “And don't get me wrong, I'm not reproaching you, it's just that…” he sighs, “The rich people I know here have a fucking habit of complicating things in their families and they're not able to fix it and be happy.”

The circle goes completely silent for a moment. That's because Daniel has said what all the people in Black Waves and you as a group of friends, is exactly what you think.

It's something you've always talked about, about the rich people in Sunsets who have everything except love and understanding in their families. And that's exactly why they're not happy.

And on the other side, the poor, they have the love, the family unity, except the money and the proper living conditions that they want to have all the material things that the rich have that the rich don't enjoy because of these voids and problems in their families.

Obviously there are different opinions on this which are totally respectable, but this is something that your friends and you have seen since you were little in Sunsets. Even Cregan has corroborated the idea about what he has seen in his world.

When in the middle of the silence, suddenly Aemond speaks up.

“I understand what you're saying and you're right, very right actually,” he nods, looking at Daniel, “That's exactly what's going on in my family. There is… no love, no empathy, no communication and everything is…” he sighs, "fucked up."

Everyone around him watches him, listens to him, as do you, instantly feeling sorry for him, even though you tried to avoid it.

“It's all about what you can bring to the table, how you fit into the family 'plan.' But no one stops to ask you what you want or how you feel,” he confesses, ”The only times I've felt loved were with my mother when I was a kid and recently with my sister Hel, nothing else.”

“Are you serious?” Alysanne inquires.

“That sounds… lonely and shitty,” Sam says with a grimace.

“It is,” Aemond nods, ”And when you try to get out of it, even for a moment, the consequences are bad. And not just for you, but for everyone in the family.”

Daniel frowns, crossing his arms.

“That's what I don't understand. If you have everything, so much money… why aren't you able to be happy instead of ruining each other?”

Aemond lets out a dry little laugh, his smile now more bitter.

“Because in my world, happiness is not a priority. It's more about appearance, control and getting more, more money, more power, recognition, respect,” he lists, "And if you deviate from that, you're a problem."

“Dude, all rich people are crazy, I knew it. And your family more so,” Sam says.

“Hey,” you instantly reproach him, with a warning look.

“It's okay, it's not totally a lie,” Aemond tells you, in a soft, calm voice, “And don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what I have. But I also want more. I want a loving, caring, understanding family. I want freedom, to be able to make my own decisions, to do what I really want to do and not what's expected of me.”

“And why don't you try to, you know… just… drop everything?” Chase asks her, intrigued, ”Rebel, be happy and live your life the way you want to.”

“It's not that simple,” Aemond shakes his head, “I'm my dad's only heir, and someone has to take his place. It doesn't matter if I want to or not. It's my responsibility, and everyone is counting on me for that.”

“But why would you have to do it?” Daniel asks, “I mean, from what you've told, your dad hasn't really done anything for you other than control you. And your family…they just watch and allow it.”

“Because that way I keep my family from exploding and we don't lose everything we have. If it's not me, there's no one else,” Aemond answers him simply and with that bitter tone of resignation.

Silence falls again on the group, where only the waves can be heard breaking softly on the shore and against the big rocks. Also the seagulls, creating a relaxing and less tense atmosphere.

Although even so, everyone watches Aemond from time to time, serious and with slight looks of pity. So do you.

You watch him silently, though not too much for him to notice. And his face, soft and hard to read… is covering all the frustration, sadness and vulnerability he is surely feeling.

Frustration and vulnerability that you feel too, because it's not fair to him. So without saying a word, you reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently.

Aemond looks down at the joined hands, saying nothing. But what you do see, though, is that little curve at the corner of his lips, smiling softly and returning the gesture with his fingers, wanting to feel you and hold you close to him.

You know it's not much. You know it's not an exit nor can it compare to all the material things he possesses. But it is a support, something meaningful and pure of heart.

“Look, dude…” speaks Chase, finally breaking the silence, scratching the back of his neck, "We're not your family, that's for sure," he lets out a low, awkward little laugh, ”But here between us… we're like one.”

Daniel next to him nods, putting on a small smile.

“It's strange to say this to a person like you, especially being a Targaryen but… if you need support, someone to listen or just a place where you can breathe… you can count on us.”

“We don't have all the money in the world…” Sam says, “neither mansions, nor yachts or cars of the year but…” he looks at everyone with a soft smile to again look at Aemond, “we're here, okay? You won't be alone anymore.”

You look at your three best friends with a small, tender smile contained with emotion and gratitude. His words, though simple, resonate deeply and make a warmth begin to spread from your chest.

And you know Aemond must be feeling exactly the same.

“I know it's hard, Aemond, but you don't have to carry everything by yourself,” Alysanne tells him, ”Seriously, if you need to get away from all that shit for a while, we're here.”

Slowly, you watch Aemond beside you, who doesn't respond right away. You notice how he suddenly becomes a little uncomfortable, stirring slightly where he is sitting, having no idea what to say or how to act.

It's clear he's never been on the receiving end of these kinds of words and gestures before. Knowing that, it breaks your heart a little. But then, there's the small smile on his lips, barely noticeable but so sincere as he watches your friends with a look full of sincerity and gratitude.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice softer. “I-I…you don't know how much this means to me. Truly.”

For a moment, no one speaks, but they don't need to. The connection is palpable, an understanding between everyone. So, you rest your cheek on his shoulder, it being a small gesture, but strong enough to convey to him that he is not alone, that you are there, that everyone is there for him.

And the atmosphere, which had previously been charged with tensions and mixed emotions, began to lighten. Chase is the first to speak, animated and looking at Aemond with a huge smile.

“Now, if you're going to officially join the poor people's group, we're going to have to put you through a rite of initiation.”

“Rite of initiation?“ Aemond repeats, amused.

“We don't have any of that,” Alysanne reproaches amused.

“True, we don't, but I wanted to start trying with you.”

Everyone laughed, even Aemond, who for the first time in a long time felt like he could breathe easy. As the group continued to joke around, throwing challenges at him like trying to surf or learning to juggle coconuts, the two of you exchange a glance.

You lean towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The gesture so natural and so warm makes Aemond close his eye for a moment, enjoying the moment and the simple pleasure of being there, with you, just like you.

It feels good to be surrounded by laughter and non-judgmental looks, with people who accept him as he is. And in that moment, Aemond felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time: belonging.

“Okay, well…” Sam starts to say with a mischievous grin, "I don't want to ruin the moment but… did anyone else notice that?" he points his head towards the two of you.

Chase lets out a laugh, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course we noticed.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes again.

“And here they come.”

“Since when is this a thing?” asks Sam.

“Since when do Targaryens accept kisses from commoners?” Daniel feigns surprise as well, holding a hand to his chest.

“Shut up,” you reply with a nervous smile, your cheeks burning.

You try to look away, but Aemond, instead of feeling uncomfortable, smiles knowingly, amused.

“So, what's going on here?” insists Daniel.

“Aren't you going to tell us your clandestine love story?” Sam also says.

“I already told you,” you reproach them, “And you promised not to do this,” you remind them.

“Yeah, but we want both versions,” they justify themselves.

Nothing stops them and they get Aemond to tell them a couple of things, exactly everything you told them.

“But what about Floris? Because if that girl finds out, it's going to be a disaster,” Chase says.

Aemond nods slowly.

“Yeah, Floris… she's part of the problem, but not the only one. My dad is the real obstacle. If he finds out and my whole family—

“It's not going to be pretty,” you complete, looking at your friends with a mixture of concern and determination, ”Then the whole town is going to find out and everything will be in chaos.”

A small silence ensues, where Sam nods thoughtfully, then looking at Chase, Daniel and finally you and Aemond.

“Okay, so all we have to do is help them protect themselves from your crazy family and your bratty girlfriend.”

“Sounds like mission impossible to me,” Daniel says.

Aemond lets out a small chuckle under his breath.

“Thanks, guys,” he says softly, ”For understanding and for not judging.”

“Judging?” repeats Chase with a smile. “Please, we're the last ones to judge. We just want to make sure you don't end up in trouble…or worse.”

The conversation and atmosphere relaxes again with their amused comments and teasing. When a voice exclaims in the distance, approaching.

”Have you already started the party without me!?“

Everyone turns their heads and sees Cregan, in his typical beach clothes and completely relaxed.

“Dude, you took a thousand years!” Chase yells at him.

“Sorry, I had to do a couple of things!” he says then trots over to all of you, closing the distance, ”My dad wanted me to help him out at the company with some doc—

He finishes the sentence abruptly as he sees that recognizable silver hair sitting among your entire group of friends and opens his eyes wide.

“Targaryen!” he exclaims with a huge grin, ”Finally!”

They do that typical male greeting and then he takes a seat next to Alysanne, visibly excited.

“Well, update me. What did you talk about?”

“A crazy family with no love, a son with responsibilities he doesn't want, a forbidden love, and a girlfriend who is actually for convenience,” Sam lists.

After that, the next hour is really about getting to know Aemond better. His favorite movie, favorite color, places he's been, things he likes to do, what things he doesn't, aspects of his life, etc.

Although the boys, especially Sam, kept saying they couldn't believe they now had another rich boy in the select group of the poor. And a Targaryen on top of it.

Cregan was a little offended at first, saying he liked it better when he was the rich guy who got the attention among all of us. Then they started making jokes, chatting, laughing more and it's like they've all known Aemond all their lives.

He had a very good inclusion to the group and he also spent as much time as he could to get to know the guys and Alysanne better.

Afterwards he and you decide to go for a short walk along the shore. You don't really talk about anything important. You just enjoy the moment, laugh, talk about everything and at the same time about nothing, hugging, hand in hand and letting the salty water wet your feet with every step.

And after a while, you return to the group, where Alysanne tells you the plan and you tell Aemond.

“The guys want to go on a ride to the sea.”

“Oh, okay.”

He nods and looks out at the small, worn pier, frowning after a brief inspection.

“And where's the yacht or the launch?”

You're about to answer but someone else does, reaching towards both of you.

“Yacht?” Sam repeats incredulously, stepping up beside you, "Dude…" he lets out a small laugh, ”we don't have any of that. This is Black Waves. But we do have the launch.”

He winks at you both and then trots over to your launch that is anchored to the pier, which was too unnoticed by Aemond, as he thought it must be an old abandoned launch and not really your launch.

“Oh,” he mutters, embarrassed.

You let out a small laugh, intertwining your arm with his.

“Come.”

The two of you follow Sam, who shows Aemond how the old launch actually has a powerful engine and that's more than enough to go sailing for a bit. The seven of you climb in without a problem and soon enough the launch is gliding through the waters.

You notice how he, at first, seems skeptical about the launch's stability, but soon settles in beside you, though somewhat cautiously.

“Just remember not to go near the piers,” you tell Sam as he starts the engine.

“Oh, sure, sure,” he nods, “We wouldn't want them to recognize Prince Charming here.”

Aemond gives him a slight nod of thanks, as you walk over to him and intertwine your arm with his, smiling softly at him.

He returns your small smile and places one of his hands on your thigh, gently caressing your skin, sending small shivers throughout your body as the whole group moves a little further out into the ocean.

After a while of sailing and no one around, Sam stops the launch and soon enough he along with Chase pull out an old fishing box with some hooks and worms.

“Well, crown prince,” Sam says, jumping to his feet, ”Have you ever been taught to fish?”

Aemond frowns slightly.

“Fishing?” he repeats, ”No. We just bought it.”

“That's what we thought,” Chase replies, with a mischievous grin, "Here too the other heir lord knew nothing," he points to Cregan.

He posts a lazy half smile as he relaxes in the sun's rays along with Alysanne, both wearing sunglasses and simply enjoying the moment.

“Yeah, it's true,” he corroborates.

“So you'll learn today,” Daniel concludes, handing him a cane.

“Is this for real?” asks Aemond, as you laugh.

“As serious as the sea is salty,” Sam replies, ��Come on, it's not that complicated.”

With some skepticism but no complaints, Aemond also gets up and follows the three guys to the bow, while you're left relaxing with Alysanne and Cregan, though you don't miss any of the show.

“Just do this,” Chase tells him, showing him how to adjust the hook line and cast the line into the water.

Aemond watches him closely and, after a few clumsy attempts, manages to cast his.

“Not bad!” you exclaim, encouraging him with a smile.

“That was a disaster,” he tells you, looking a little frustrated by his lack of skill, but also amused.

“You're doing well, you just need a little practice,” Daniel encourages him, who explains the tricks of the trade, but without missing the opportunity to joke.

Although the rods are old and clumsy, they manage to catch a couple of small fish, enough to feel a sense of accomplishment.

It takes Aemond a few minutes to settle in, as the breeze caresses his face and the sight of the calm sea seems to begin to influence his mood and comfort.

And after a couple of practice runs, he throws the line back into the water and after a few minutes, manages to catch something, which sparks cheers and exaggerated applause from the others as he quickly pulls the line as Sam has taught him.

“Look at that!” exclaims Chase, laughing, ”The fishing prince!”

The boys encourage each other, sharing a relaxed, friendly, laughter-filled atmosphere, while you watch everything proudly and happily.

You notice how something has changed in him, like he no longer wears that rigidity that characterizes him. His shoulders are slightly slumped, his posture less tense and he is smiling, really smiling and laughing.

You know this is all he needed to disconnect from everything that haunts him and you feel so happy for him to see him looking this good.

After a while, between them they put everything back together and decide to head back to the beach, but not before stopping by a convenience store to buy some chips and a few beers.

Sam and you volunteer, while Aemond stays in the launch with the others, putting on Alysanne's sunglasses and covering his silver hair with Daniel's cap.

Finally, you return to your usual spot, Black Waves beach, where you sit on the logs around a bonfire and the sunset begins to make its show in the sky.

As you settle in with Aemond, you watch as he looks at the screen of his phone and lets out a long breath as he puts it back in his front pocket. This catches your attention as you see the small but visible frown and you look at him with a soft smile.

“Are you okay?”

He instantly looks at you and nods, trying to smile a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says trying to brush it off.

Just then, you hear the faint sound of when the phone vibrates continuously, indicating an incoming call. Aemond sighs and takes his phone out of his pocket again, where you both see Floris' name on the screen.

Aemond shoots you a glance at your side and sends it straight to voicemail, then places his phone on complete silence and puts it away again.

“She's been calling for hours now. My mom too,” he lets you know.

“And it's not important?” you ask softly.

“No,” he says shaking his head, ”They just want to know where I am.”

“Well, you can tell them so they'll stop calling,” you suggest.

“No, I haven't been home most of the day,” he explains, “They'll try to get me to come back. And I don't want that. I want to…“ he sighs, "I want to stay here a little longer.”

“Okay,” you nod, without a problem.

You take his hand and intertwine it with your own, as the animated guys start talking.

“Alright, Aemond,” Chase says, "Have you ever juggled coconuts?" he asks him as he bends down and picks up three coconuts from the sand.

“Where did you get them?” you ask him instantly amused.

“It's a secret,” he winks at you.

“Is that something people really do?” asks Aemond, amused.

“It is if you're with us,” says Cregan, who appears with three other coconuts in his hands, ”I didn't know either, but they made me learn.”

“Yeah, show him,” Sam tells him, smiling.

“Me first,” Chase interjects, placing himself in the circle first.

He starts juggling them, while Aemond watches him intently,though after a few seconds he drops one, causing a ripple of laughter.

“Dude, shame on you.”

“Weren't you supposed to know?” inquires Alysanne.

“You do it, then,” he challenges her.

Alysanne steps in, taking the coconuts and giving a brief, effortless demonstration. Her moves are fluid and she manages to keep them in the air longer than Chase. And when she finishes, everyone applauds.

“It's a matter of practice,” she says, shrugging, extending the coconuts to Aemond.

“I highly doubt it,” Aemond tells her, but takes the coconuts, willing to give it a try.

After several failed attempts where Alysanne explains along with Sam, he still fails to do it and drops the coconuts to the ground unsuccessfully, though he ends up laughing along with everyone else.

Then Sam stands in the center, juggling and trying the occasional trick, making a spectacle of himself and provoking more laughter at his moves.

“And where did they learn to do that?” asks Aemond with a small smile and interested.

“With the boys in the neighborhood, since we were kids,” says Sam.

Everyone nods, as the atmosphere fills with warmth and the flames of the bonfire dance in the light wind, illuminating everyone's faces as the sunset says its last farewell of the day to bring in the night.

All the guys continue to talk, making the whole group laugh, sharing anecdotes and enjoying the fries and beers while the starry sky and the moon accompany you in the night, as well as the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Aemond at your side watches you with a small soft smile and you return it, as the voices of the boys continue to fill the space you are in.

“I understand Cregan now,” he tells you and you look at him intently, ”They're great guys. It's been a long time since I've felt this comfortable in a group.”

“This won't be the last hangout we have,” you remind him, “Almost every day we meet here. Daniel said next time we should go surfing.”

“I'd love to,” he tells you softly, "Although…" he moves closer towards you, speaking low, ”I'm thinking of inviting them to the yacht.”

You raise your eyebrows, smiling.

“Really?”

“This coming weekend my dad will be going away with my mom on a work trip,” he tells you, “Aegon will probably go partying and stay at some girl's house. Hel and Daeron will have the house to themselves and maybe stay in and watch some movies or something.”

“That's perfect,” you say smiling, ”But, what about Floris?”

“I'll tell her that I'll start my lessons. That way she won't come looking for me. Or my siblings can cover for me in case of anything.”

“Are you sure?” you look at him intently.

“Yeah,” he tells you unconcerned, “But don't tell them anything yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding.

“Okay.”

“Dude, your phone,” Cregan says to Aemond suddenly, pointing to his front pocket with his gaze.

You both look in the same direction and see the light from the screen filter through the fabric, so he pulls it out of his pocket and you both see another missed call from Floris.

His jaw line tenses visibly, and then he slides his finger to check the notifications. Among them, a message from Helaena stands out telling him that his mom is worried.

Aemond sighs, letting out a long exhale that seems to take with it some of the calm he had achieved in the last few hours.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What's wrong?” you ask him intently.

“I have to go,” he says, putting the phone back in his pocket.

The resignation in his voice is palpable, but there's also a hint of annoyance, as if he doesn't want this night to end. And you watch him silently for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do to comfort him a little.

“I don't want to leave,” he says, his voice low and frustrated.

You grimace slightly and move closer towards him, lifting one of your hands to begin gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to relax him. He instantly closes his eye and takes a big breath, instantly enjoying your touch.

“It's okay,” you murmur, ”We'll go back out with them, don't worry.”

“Yeah, I know, it's just…” he pauses, ”I don't want to go home.”

You are silent for a moment, letting his words settle in the air between you.

“Aemond…” you murmur, wanting to say something to ease that burden he seems to carry.

But before you can continue, he opens his eyes and looks at you with an intensity that leaves you speechless.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly, with a gentleness and a firmness that surprises you.

“What?”

“Yeah," he insists, "Stay with me tonight."

You look at him in surprise, your mind racing a mile a minute.

“You mean… at your place?”

“Yeah,” he tells you a little more animated, excited by the idea.

And you don't know what to say again for a few seconds.

“That's… probably a bad idea,” you tell him softly, ”It's too risky, Aemond.”

He smiles thinly, leaning a little towards you.

“It won't be a bad idea if we're careful. It'll be all right.”

“And how will you be able to get me in?”

“No one will see you. The house is huge,” he tells you nonchalantly, ”We just have to be careful. And tomorrow morning, I'll drive you home.”

Gradually, the idea of going to sleep with him excites you, too, despite the risks. Honestly, you don't want him to leave either, at least not yet. But going with him… it starts to stoke that flame of danger and daring in you.

So with the condition that this can't be a regular thing, your mind finally makes the decision.

Soon after, the two of you say goodbye to the guys. You beg Alysanne to cover for you with her parents one more time, and so you get into Aemond's car. The ride to his house is short, but filled with anticipation.

When you arrive, the sight of his mansion takes your breath away. Lights bathe the imposing facade in a golden glow, and the expansive front garden looks like something out of a postcard.

It's a completely different world from your own, something you always knew, but seeing it up close makes it that much more real.

“I'll go in and talk to my mom first, she must be in the living room,” Aemond tells you as he turns off his car and the two of you are in the huge garage of his house, “I'll see who else is inside and come back for you, okay?”

You nod, feeling a little nervous but excited.

“Okay, but what if someone comes?”

“No one will come. There are all the cars,” he points around, "But if that happens, just hide in here," he points to the inside of his car, "No one will see you."

“Okay,” you nod, ”Just don't take too long, please.”

“I won't, don't worry.”

You stay alone in the car, feeling the seconds seem to lengthen in the gloom of the huge garage.

Your eyes dart around the contours of the space, admiring unwittingly the luxury that surrounds you, the perfectly lined up expensive cars, motorcycles and razers. A world completely unrelated to your own.

Minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps brings you out of your thoughts. Aemond appears by the car door, his face relaxed.

“We're fine,” he says to you in a soft voice, opening your door and extending a hand towards you.

You take his hand and step carefully out of the car, feeling as if you are crossing an invisible line into forbidden territory. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you toward a side entrance that leads to the house.

The door opens with a soft click and you step into the lobby of the house. Immediately, the fresh air and the faint scent of flowers and waxed wood envelop you.

Everything around you seems to glow, from the marble floors to the crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the high ceiling.

“Wow,” you murmur, almost breathless as your eyes roam the space.

Aemond lets out a small laugh, holding your hand more firmly. He leads you down wide hallways that are everything you'd expect; disgustingly rich.

There are decorations that look like something out of a museum and furniture that probably cost more than anything you've ever owned in your life. The crystal chandeliers never seem to end and you pass through a bunch of different rooms like an office, a library, the dining room, a small living room, a game room and so on.

Then Aemond guides you to a grand and majestic staircase with a forged iron railing.

As you go up, you see on the wall pictures in perfectly placed frames of the entire Targaryen family from different years, but you can't linger to inspect too much as you both move on in a hurry.

Finally, you both reach the second floor and he takes you to his room, which is almost at the end of the hallway. He opens the door for you and upon entering, it is also as you expected, simply stunning and expensive.

The room is huge, much bigger than you could have imagined. The walls are painted in dark tones that contrast with the light wood furniture.

A king-size bed occupies the center, with luxurious-looking sheets that seem as soft as a cloud. In front, a large television hangs on the wall and to one side are sliding glass doors leading to a balcony with a breathtaking ocean view.

“So this is the rich life,” you say with a mixture of awe and humor, turning to him, “A gigantic bed, a TV bigger than anything I've ever seen and a balcony with a view of the ocean? Sure, it's completely normal.”

Aemond laughs softly, closing the door behind him.

“It's just a room,” he says as he walks over to his closet which is actually another big room, just like his bathroom.

“It's like an apartment inside a mansion,” you reply, letting out a laugh as you walk over to the bed and run your hand across the expensive looking bedspread.

He takes one of his T-shirts from one of his drawers and returns to his room, handing it to you.

“Here, so you'll be comfortable.”

You take the T-shirt and hold it in front of you. It's soft, cotton and smells faintly of him.

“Thank you.”

As you change in the attached bathroom, you can't help but think about how surreal this all is. You never thought you'd experience living this, even for one night. You feel like a celebrity, in some strange way.

When you return, Aemond is sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes.

“What do you think?” he asks, looking up at you.

“That your bed is delicious,” you reply with a smile as you walk over and sink into the mattress.

Instantly the softness is indescribable and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you settle in.

“Honestly, I don't know how you're going to get me out of here tomorrow.”

He laughs again, dropping his t-shirt to the floor as well as his shorts before joining you on the bed. His skin is exposed, and though you're used to seeing him shirtless by now, something about this situation feels more intimate, more vulnerable.

Aemond settles in next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His warmth is comforting and you let yourself be enveloped by the sense of security he gives you.

And it feels simply wonderful to be here with him.

“Thank you for staying,” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile softly with tenderness, leaning into him and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, then bury your face between his neck and chest, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion take hold of you.

You both fall silent, enveloped in the tranquility of the night and the distant sound of the sea breaking against the shore. And the only thing you think before you drift off to sleep is that you don't want tomorrow to come.

All you want is to stay this way with him.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines @valyrianflower

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #modern hotd #modern aemond

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chaoticpuff17 · 9 months ago

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Treat Me So Well

yandere mafia Hoseok drabble

Part of a series of Drabbles starring yandere BTS x escort reader

————————————————————————

You fiddled with the chain that Hoseok had left on the night stand as the man himself got ready to head out for the day. You probably should have also been readying yourself to leave but had instead chosen to spend the earlier parts of the morning lazing in bed despite the fact that Hoseok had already left it. Your job was technically over. You knew for a fact that Hoseok had already wired over the money for your ‘services’, and you were free to go home whenever you liked so long as Jackson didn’t call with another appointment though it was always a possibility one of your other clients would contact you directly to set up a meeting.

Despite the fact that you didn’t have that many clients on your schedule, the few you did have kept you plenty busy. You never imagined that when you and your best friend started working for Jackson that it would turn into this. It had originally meant to be a side hustle to help put the both of you through school. Now it was a full time job that kept the both of you very busy and living a very good life. Despite the fact your client lists were short, every man on them paid very well.

You were on your back admiring how the diamonds in the chain sparkled in the light above you when Hoseok walked out of the bathroom buttoning his shirt.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my…” He paused without finishing the thought, catching sight of you wrapped up in the sheets with the very thing he was looking for dangling from your finger tips, a coy smile lifting the corners of your lips as you caught him staring.

“I was looking for that.”

“Then come and take it.”

He walked over, leaning down to place a slow kiss on your lips. “Do you like it?”

“It’s very pretty.”

“Keep it.” He straightened up, finishing doing up his buttons as he did.

You wrinkled your nose handing over the necklace. “It’s very pretty, but it’s not really my color. I’m a gold girly you know.”

Hoseok took the necklace from you, fastening it in place as you watched. “I’ll make sure to send you something in gold later.”

You laughed, sitting up- the sheet pooling around your waist as you did. “You always treat me so well.”

Hoseok reached over, running his hand through your loose hair. “Anything for you. When can I see you next?”

You hummed, thinking it over as you were unwilling to get up and retrieve your work phone from your bag to actually look at your appointments. “I should have an opening later in the week.”

“Nothing sooner?” he asked, pulling on your hair slightly. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“I’m a very busy lady.” you responded, rising onto your knees so that you were tall enough to drape your arms over his shoulders linking your hands behind his neck. “I have places to be, people to see.”

Hoseok leaned closer, brushing his nose against yours. “Too busy for me?”

“Never too busy for you.” you responded with a purr, kissing him softly.

“Put me down for the slot later this week.” he sighed, breaking away from you. “The money for last night should already be in your account.” you hummed in agreement, flopping back to lie against the pillows again, and he followed you down, attacking your neck with a flurry of kisses. “Be good till I see you again.” he murmured against your skin.

“I always am.”

You stayed in bed, watching as Hoseok left and trying to find the motivation to leave yourself. That motivation eventually came in the sound of an insistent buzzing coming from the direction of your purse.

With a groan, you got up plucking your phone out and seeing a missed call and several texts coming through all from the same man with instructions for your date the following evening and the self-care he wanted you to do before then.

You were looking over the instructions and beginning to book the blow out and facial for later in the afternoon when your phone started ringing again.

“Hello, Tae.”

“Jagi.” his smooth deep voice carried over the line. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“You’ll have to. I have beauty appointments to keep, ones I should be getting ready to go for.”

“Where are you right now?”

You sighed, already aware of his possessive tendencies. He liked to know that you were safe between meetings, often making sure that you got where you needed to be safely. “I’m getting ready to head home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll send a car for you.”

You laughed, grinning as you began to gather your scattered clothes from around the room. “You always treat me so well.”

#area codes universe #mafia au #bts mafia #yandere bts #bts fanfic #mafia hoseok #yandere hoseok #mafia hobi #yandere hobi #dark romance #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader

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elsgooglyeyes · 1 year ago

Text

hello everyone. long LONG time no see, but i'm back on my bullshit. here's an excerpt from a story i've been pondering over recently.

for context: joel and ellie took you in when you were 15, blah blah lots of lore. long story short, you end up in jackson with them, you and ellie are 18, almost 19, and unfortunately...you've fallen in love with her. ellie williams. your best friend. oh my god. good luck babe!

summary: you have morning coffees with joel almost every morning, and your feelings for ellie are causing quite the inner turmoil...here's you confiding in joel who has become a father to you. longing. yearning. fatherly love. sarcasm. friends to lovers. the whole shabang.

a/n: i fear this is mostly self indulgent as someone apart of the dead dad club LMFAOO

wc: 2.1k

As you step outside, the early fall air immediately wakes you up slightly as it wicks through your thin clothes. You wrap your free arm around your torso, warm coffee mug in the other as you walk through the side yard of Joel's house. Your feet crunch against the dying grass as you exhale shakily. As you turn the corner, you immediately spot Joel already sitting in his respective chair on the porch. You smile softly as you approach the steps, directing the smile towards him.

Joel looks up as you approach, a familiar warm smile gracing his lips. He tilts his head in acknowledgment, his eyes still weary from sleep.

"Mornin'," he grunts, his voice still rough from waking up. He gestures to the chair beside him, silently inviting you to join. You slowly walk up the porch steps, sleep still taking toll on your body, causing you to move groggily. The sun rises, peeking out behind some clouds, providing you with a bit of warmth from the crisp air.

"Morning," you grumble in return, sitting down on the chair beside him, bringing a knee to your chest and immediately taking a sip of your coffee. You sigh as the hot liquid falls down your throat, warming you up from the inside.

Joel chuckles softly at your grumble, well aware and used to your morning moodiness. He also takes a sip of his coffee, savoring the bitter taste before speaking, "Rough start to the day?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Always," you mumble softly, taking another sip, desperate to wake up some more. A soft wind blows, causing the wind chimes to play their familiar music.

Joel grins wryly and nods, settling back into his chair. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the only sounds now being the wind chimes and the faint chirping of birds in the distance. This routine has become sacred to both of you, getting to sit together before the hustle and bustle of the day, just enjoying the other's presence. While the mornings are usually peaceful, your thoughts begin to cloud your mind as soon as your brain wakes up even the tiniest bit. Eventually, Joel breaks the silence, his voice gruff but gentle.

"Seems like fall's finally making its way in," he observes, glancing around, feeling the chill of the air envelope him. You nod in agreement, grimacing. "Unfortunately...it's too damn cold. I'm still not used to it being this cold this early in the year"

Joel nods, a knowing look in his eyes. "Hm," he hums, "sometimes I forget you grew up mainly in the deep south. Your body's built for the warmth, I reckon. You're in for a rude awakening, ain't nothin' quite like a northern fall–or winter, for that matter. It'll get pretty damn harsh up here."

You groan, this is your first winter in Jackson, and while you're grateful to finally have a bed to sleep in and a stable roof over your head, you can't help but feel a little upset at how cold it'll get.

"Can't wait..." you retort sarcastically and take another sip, sighing softly. Joel snorts, a dry chuckle escaping his lips, "Oh you’re just a ray of sunshine this morning, ain't ya? Even more so than usual," he teases, a glint of amusement in his eyes. You chuckle in response, shaking your head, letting out a soft groan.

"Sorry. I'm just thinkin'. Kinda too lost in thought to be the greatest of company this morning." Joel notices the change in your demeanor, your usual early morning grumbles making way for something a little deeper, and his rugged features soften.

He looks over your face, taking note of your slightly furrowed brows and frown. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I don't know if I can even tell you these thoughts for a quarter," you attempt to joke, but it falls flat. Clearly whatever you're thinking about is taking over your entire mind. However, Joel still cracks a wry smile, appreciating the attempt and nods at you.

"Try me," he says. "Though I can't say I guarantee a quarter's worth of wisdom, but I'm listenin'."

His words bring a sort of peace to your anxious mind, yet the thoughts still linger. You sigh softly and groan, putting your face in your free hand, your other tightening its grip on your mug. Joel watches you closely, noticing your clear frustration. His expression turns more serious, sensing that whatever you're grappling with isn't something lighthearted.

"C'mon, kiddo," he coaxes, his voice gentle but firm. "Out with it." You attempt to disguise your frustration with a forced smile and a wave of your hand, but Joel just smirks at you, knowing you well enough to see through your playful facade.

"Nuh uh," he shakes his head, leaning forward slightly in his chair and takes another sip of coffee, sighing. "That ain't gonna work on me and you know it. What's bothering you?" You roll your eyes playfully, cursing his stubbornness and protectiveness. You squint your eyes slightly and look out onto the street ahead of you, listening to the wind chimes. Eventually, you take a deep breath and open your mouth to begin talking.

"I've got these..." you gesture with your free hand, attempting to find the right words for your inner turmoil, but to no avail, "feelings." You shake your head and take another sip, eyes trained on the street, "I don't know..." You shake your head.

Joel notices your struggle to find the words, his hard gaze unwavering and attentive. He also takes a sip of coffee before setting the mug down on the table between you, looking over at you.

"Feelings, huh? 'Bout what exactly?" He probes gently, his voice filled with patience for you. You close your eyes and sigh, "Who is the better question." You mumble quietly, a part of you hoping he didn't even hear you. However, he did, of course. His brow furrows momentarily, leaning back in his chair, shifting his gaze to try and catch your eye, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

"Who, huh?" He echoes, his voice gravelly, "lemme take a guess..." You roll your eyes. There's not a chance in hell he knows who you're talking about, because it's absurd. You finally shift your eyes back to him, "You'll never guess," you murmur.

Joel chuckles deeply, "Oh you underestimate me, kid," he retorts, the smirk in the corners of his lips deepening. "I know you well enough to take a pretty educated guess." You draw your eyebrows together and look at him, silently challenging him to guess. He takes a moment to consider, his keen eyes studying your expression, and his eyes crinkle.

"Alright," he begins slowly, clearing his throat. "Let me throw out a name." You shrug, taking a sip, confident he'll say some girl you've talked to twice, or even a boy you've mentioned in passing. He looks out at the street, mirroring your early actions before tilting his head, his eyes locked onto yours as he prepares to make his guess. He takes a deep breath, his voice steady and sure.

"Ellie," he says firmly, his eyes unwavering as he gauges your reaction, his eye crinkling more as his smirk deepens into a smug smile. You choke on the coffee you're in the middle of swallowing, coughing as you hear her name fall from his lips, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Gotcha, didn't I?" He teases, his smile turning into a full blown grin as he looks at your shocked and confused face. "Don't look so shocked, kid. You're not exactly subtle."

Your eyebrows furrow as you look between his eyes, "What?" If Joel was able to notice, does that mean...?

He interrupts your thoughts with a husky laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You think I haven't noticed how you look at her? How you've been looking at her? For years?" He chuckles again and tilts his head at you, "It's pretty obvious, even to an old fart like me."

You groan and place your coffee down on the table, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. "How long have you known?" You mumble into your hands, though you're almost too afraid to know the answer. He hums thoughtfully, "How long?" He repeats, scratching his bearded chin, "hmmm, let me think..." He pretends to count the days out on his fingers, a deliberate slowness to his movements.

"Well, let's see," he says, drawing out each word with his southern drawl, "I think I've known for...oh, I dunno, about a year now.' You raise your head out of your hands and look at him in bewilderment, "Joel...you're lying."

He grins back at you, "Why would I lie about this, kiddo?" You lean back into your chair, rubbing your hand over your face, mumbling an "oh my god."

Joel laughs heartily, finding your flustered state amusing, "Oh c'mon, don't look so horrified," he teases, "it ain't as bad as you're makin' it out to be." You shoot your eyes over to him, shaking your head, "Joel, she's my best friend."

Joel nods in understanding, his expression softening as he looks at your anxious state. "Oh, I know," his voice losing some of the teasing edge from earlier, gentleness taking over, "but feelings ain't always that simple, are they? Feelings are complicated," he reassures, "and when it comes to best friends," he whistles lowly, "well, it'll complicate things even more."

You look up at the porch ceiling, moving to pick up your forgotten coffee and take a long sip, grimacing as it's turned slightly cold. You sigh and look back at him with pleading eyes.

"What am I supposed to do? I thought they'd go away a long time ago but..." you trail off, searching his eyes for his wisdom.

"I wish I had a simple answer for you, darlin'. Feelings aren't always something you can just make disappear. Believe me, I know that all too well." He squints his eyes as he looks out.

"You're no help." You grumble, taking a sip of your now cold coffee. He chuckles softly, the warm sound rumbling in his chest as he raises his hands in mock defense.

"Hey, I never said I was an expert on relationships. Just an old man trying to give his two cents." You chuckle in response and take a deep breath. You're afraid to ask this next question, but it's been gnawing in the back of your mind, "Do you think she knows?" Your voice soft, wincing a little bit as you look down at your coffee.

He ponders your question for a moment, his expression thoughtful as he genuinely tries to come up with an answer, he sighs lowly before answering, "Can't say for sure...Ellie's a smart kid, and she knows you like the back of her hand. But sometimes...feelings can be hard to pick up on, even for the smartest of us." You nod slowly, swirling your coffee in its mug.

"That's what I was afraid of...sometimes I'm scared she can see right into my soul." You chuckle dryly. He lets out a soft laugh, appreciating your lighthearted attempt to play it off, "Yeah she's got a way of seein' through people, doesn’t she? Can't hide much from her, you included."

You groan again, throwing your head back to slump into the chair. "Don't say that. You're supposed to say: 'Oh don't worry, she's completely oblivious and has absolutely no idea you're madly in love with her'" You mimic in his deep southern voice.

Joel can't help but let out a hearty laugh at your imitation of his southern voice. He grins widely, clearly amused by your mockery.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, reaching up to scratch his beard. "Lemme try again." He clears his throat and puts on his best serious face.

"Darlin', she ain't got a clue," he says in his gravelly voice, suppressing a smirk. "Oblivious as can be."

You smile at him, appreciating his efforts to make you feel better, even if they aren't exactly true. He returns your smile and chuckles, "Hope that's of some help. Though I gotta say," He leans toward you, his voice lowering, "your impression could use some work."

You laugh, feeling put at ease by his familiar teasing, "No...I don't think it does. It's pretty spot on actually," you quip back, causing another gruff laugh to fall from his lips. "If you say so, kid."

You smirk at him and open your mouth to retort back but are cut short by the sound of the door to you and Ellie's shed creaking open, cutting through the relative silence of your surroundings.

"Speak of the Devil," he smirks at your automatic body response of slumping further down into the chair. "C'mon now, you can play it cool. You're tough."

You groan softly, "Im not the same girl you took in when I was fifteen," you whine softly, "I've lost my edge!" You slowly sit up as you hear her footsteps approaching from the side of the house, shooting him a look, "Not a word," you warn him, pointing at him. He raises his hand and pretends to zip his mouth shut as Ellie rounds the house, giving you both a sleepy nod and a grumbled, "morning." Her eyes lighting up when she sees you.

okay that's all you get. love y'all xoxo.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie willams x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 1 year ago

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A Night Forgotten

Part Four

Flashback: The Wedding

What a beautiful, heart-felt ceremony. Emoni had come back from the restroom within the beautifully appointed ballroom. Her friends had picked an exquisite mansion to hold their ceremony and reception. The grand chandelier situated high above them made Emoni feel as if she were a part of Beauty and The Beast. The ivory ball gown the bride wore reminded her of a princess.

As Emoni enters the vast ballroom, she makes a beeline for the bar, needing to start the evening off on the right foot. Everyone began to mingle after filling their bellies with the best food she’d ever had. As she made her way there, her ivory and gold satin bridesmaids gown annoying her, she made eye contact with her ex, Troy, instantly turning her gaze away with frustration. He’d been trying to get her attention the entire time. Emoni wanted nothing to do with his lying, cheating ass.

To her delight, the bartender is a good friend: Brent is dressed up as Cupid for tonight's event, complete with a silly bow and arrow set slung across his chest. Ivory, silk, button down shirt on with the buttons halfway secured, his skin is oiled and painted in golden fairy dust, and his matching satin pants hang low on his hips. He looks like a love slave with fairy-like wings, quite honestly, more fit for a BDSM dungeon than a fairytale wedding.

"Brent, I didn't know you were a bartender, too!" she says as she takes a stool in front of him, tucking a stray curl behind her ear that had fallen from her elegant updo that Brent had given her just that morning. "This hair is fantastic, by the way. I love how it makes me feel, so…"

"Naughty and free?" he suggests.

"Exactly."

She's been his client for the last three years, and over that time, their rapport has been growing by leaps and bounds. It's been a wonder to discover there is more to this silent, talented man than just his good looks and charm.

"The best hairdresser in all of California by day, moonlighting as a mixologist for the newlyweds?! How very mysterious you are, Mr. Clark!”

Brent shrugs one muscular shoulder and flashes a quick grin. "I'm a man of many talents," he reminds her with a wink. "We're always full of surprises, Ms. Daniels."

"Is that so?" she challenges him with a wicked grin. "Why don't you prove it by making me something as unique and unforgettable as this hair Ply me with a menu of drinks guaranteed to end with my socks being knocked off!"

With a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes, he accepts her challenge.

"I do believe I've got just the thing for you, Ms. Daniels…"

Brent sauntered over towards the end of the bar to make her the perfect drink. Emoni swayed in her seat, enjoying the music and refusing to be in a sour mood because of her ex. Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve to steal her joy.

Unfortunately for her, another man known to be a thorn in her side since High School was on his way over, dressed from head to toe in Sebastian Cruz—Italian fabric. It’s a black suit with gold accents, matching the colors of the wedding. He is a groomsmen after all. His tapered locs are braided back and he couldn’t go without wearing his gold canines. He begins as it always does between them: with an acknowledgement and an insult.

"Evening, Daniels," Erik Stevens greets her with a bow of his head, taking up his customary place at her side as she turns up her nose at him, attempting to fake her disgust of him, “How goes the dick hustling tonight?"

She glances over at him, amused. His eyes are shielded with a gold half-mask. Very sexy. She would never tell him that however. With a mouth like his, it was sure to piss her off quickly. he carries a glass tumbler that is filled with melting ice and the tiniest bit of cognac.

Where is Brent with her much needed drink?! She searched the bar and there was no sight of him.

Odd.

Emoni was determined not to give into the whim to kick this smug Prince in his priced jewels. It's far too early in the evening for that sort of a juvenile response, and really she needed a little liquid courage to be that bold.

And why would you kick him in the balls when you actually want to tea bag them? Her salacious thoughts intruded.

"Hello, Stevens," she unenthusiastically responded instead, refusing to call him by his first name. "Still seducing the ladies with a forked tongue, I see."

His serpentine smirk is chased by a sexually-suggestive leer. "You meant silver tongue, I'm sure. And if anyone's out to deceive…you're the one dressed like a seductress, Daniels. Since when do you seduce?” He noticed she didn’t have a drink in her hand, “I take it Brent is still working on your drink?”

Emoni parted her glossy lips to speak but was suddenly rendered speechless. A beautifully-crafted cocktail was situated in front of her, as if it had materialized from nowhere. A striking and vivid pink, tropical flower was placed over the edge of the glass as a garnish. A pretty pink egg-white mixture swirled inside of the glass. It was topped with an orange drizzle and edible glitter.

For the slightest moment, Emoni could have sworn the mysterious drink glowed like it was made of magic. Even Erik couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pretty concoction. Just then, the most alluringly sexy voice brought her gaze forward. Emoni was stunned by the woman’s undeniable beauty. Long, sleek brown hair, feline eyes, chiseled jaw, sculpted body with sinewy curves, and a full set of lips so tempting. She was hypnotic.

“One Aphrodite’s Love Potion for you…”

“Thank you,” Emoni’s eyes searched, “Did Brent leave?”

“He needed to take a quick break. I’m taking over until he gets back…”

Emoni brought the cocktail to her lips and then she paused.

“What’s in this?”

“Gin, triple sec, lemon juice…just to name a few. It looks delicious, doesn’t it?”

Her voice was so beautiful. Erik stood there speechless. As if he were in a trance.

“Go on, drink it. I already know you’ll love it.”

Emoni gave a one shoulder shrug before bringing her lips over the rim and taking a sip. As soon as it touched her tongue, she was immediately hit with a burst of flavor. It was the best drink she’d ever had. She instantly felt a rush, the drink coursing through her body and making her feel all warm and fuzzy.

“It’s delicious. Thank you?—”

“Just call me Dove. It’s a nickname of mine.”

“Thanks, Dove. I may need another one of these tonight!” Emoni said with a flirty grin.

“Oh, you’ll be back for more, trust me. Maybe your friend here might want one?”

Erik locked eyes with Dove, for a second unable to formulate words. Someone had accidentally bumped into him on their way to the bar. Erik blinked away from Dove, clearing his throat to speak.

“I’m all good. For now at least. Not my type of drink.”

“I see,” Dove gave Erik a once over, “Well, I’ll see you two around. Enjoy your evening…”

Dove sauntered away towards the end of the bar. Emoni could feel Erik’s eyes on her. She glared at him.

“What?”

“Fitting.” He looked at her drink before eyeing her up and down, his gaze taking time to admire the view. "My, my, but you do love to play naughty for me, don't you?”

Although she didn’t particularly like the dress—not that it was her idea to wear it in the first place—it made her slim-thick body stand out. Her breasts sat up invitingly. The back of the dress although a bit poofy made her plump ass sit out.

“Naughty for you? That's the funniest thing I've heard all evening, Erik, Thanks for the ha-ha.”

She turns to assess the crowd of eligible men. There are more than a few faces she already knows, but others she'd like to know a lot better, “Contrary to your absurd and quite comical belief, I didn't dress this way for you. I have a specific agenda tonight.”

Erik scuffed, dimples deep in his cheeks and lips rolled shut, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. She’s such a logistician. That’s one thing about Emoni that attracted him to her. That articulate voice and intellect. It was so damn sexy. Erik waved down Brent who appeared again at the bar. He strolled over with a big smile.

“Another one of these, homie!”

Brent gave Erik a thumbs up and then he glanced at Emoni with a sorry look. She waved him away, not even bothered that he had to step away from the bar for a bit. Brent returned within two minutes with a new glass of cognac on ice. Erik accepted the drink graciously.

“Don't you always at these things? Have an agenda?” He dryly asks, taking a quick sip of his drink to hide a frown. “Speaking of which—” He leans in as if to impart a secret to her, appearing solemn and earnest in his proposal. “Look, the truth is…I just came over here to offer you my services.”

She turns her head and gives him a flat stare. “What services would those be exactly—teaching a woman what not to want in a man? Because you excel at that.”

“You're the only one who thinks so,” he baldly points out, and she knows he's right. The fact is Erik’s got women crawling all over him, begging for a piece on a regular basis, despite his abysmal character. Apparently, having a boat-load of money and royalty status is the great cosmetic for a truly deplorable personality, “As I was saying…my services,” he continues. “Tonight I'm feeling magnanimous, Daniels, so I'm going to make you an offer you can't possibly refuse.”

Emoni sighs and waves at him to get on with what will, indubitably, be a scandalous and ridiculous proposition. The answering dimpled grin he gives her is delightfully boyish and positively enchanting, and if she had fewer brain cells in her head she'd fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Go on, Boss, I’m listening.”

“Alright, now listen up because I'm not repeating it,” he says, preening as a peacock before her, “For one night only, for absolutely no money down and no contract necessary, I'm willing to save you the embarrassment of having to find and hunt down the perfect man for your desired one night stand,” He crudely points at his crotch. "I've already got one right here that can fulfill your every fucking dream. Totally free. I'll even throw in all the pink cocktails you'll need to work up the nerve. Dove is around her somewhere…”

Enoni purses her lips, trying not to laugh in his face. As far as trying it on goes, that one is rather original.

“So, let me just understand your pitch,” she replies, affecting indifference. “You're offering to ply me with copious amounts of alcohol and once I'm too inebriated to think straight, you're going to allow me a shot at some other chick’s sloppy seconds…assuming I don't fall unconscious somewhere in between and make things that much easier for you.” She fakes a yawn. “Nice try, but why would I allow my boss and a womanizer the chance of fucking me?”

His frown indicates he’s pissed that she would even think that.

“Your back is so gahdamn rigid, Daniels. I’ll be glad when you get that stick out your fuckin’ ass. And aren’t you the one tryna find a man to fuck in your hotel bed? A random man at that,” Erik chuckles, “So, if anything…”

She was furious then. She wanted to slap him in that pretty face of his. He was so infuriating!

“Are you calling me a hoe? All I did was tell you the truth. And you know it’s the truth, don’t you?”

He blinks as if she's nailed him right in the gut, and gives a long-suffering sigh as if disgusted with her total lack of interest.

“Daniels, you really know how to stomp a man's grand plans into dust at the same time as grinding his balls into meat strips,” He tosses back the contents of his drink, finishing off the glass. “I’ll leave you alone and watch you stand here looking desperate when an opportunity is right in front of you.”

Now she laughs and turns her attention back to the crowd, eyeing the selection and seeing if there is anyone there who might even remotely catch her attention tonight.

“You can’t stand the fact that I don’t fall for your dimples and your raspy voice and your status. Your charm doesn’t work on me. If you can even call it that.”

“Plenty do,” he grouses, looking petulant by her refusal to be impressed, “I'm amazingly appealing, and we both know that you know that.”

"Sure I do,” Emoni replied sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

He sniffs. "Your problem is you're too green…miss prim."

“No, I'm foxy and an excellent judge of character. Far from green and prudish, Stevens.” Emoni fired back.

“Yes, well…” He sighs, twirling his now empty glass in his hand, “I don't suppose you'd consider lowering your stuck-up standards for a night to aid a fellow charity-dodger deal with his dick?”

“Not for all the air to breathe.”

“Ah, well, your loss, love,” he says, sounding not in the least put-out by her rejection.

He is, after all, quite used to it by now. This is a familiar ritual for them, one they'd been having on and off for the last five years or so since his return from Wakanda. It always ends the same, too: he 'flirts' outrageously with her then ducks out with some random woman on his arm, and she, unwilling to be the brunt of jokes about a lack of a sex life come Monday morning, eventually leaves with one of her friends-with-benefits for a Saturday night of vigorous sex…followed by a Sunday morning filled with hollow excuses and quick goodbyes. That’s how Emoni ended up with her ex, Troy. A serious mistake that led her into a toxic relationship.

Really, the way she and Erik dance around each other at these events and in the office is comical, if it wasn't so fucking obvious that they both wanted a good, nasty, rough night with each other. The problem is that Emoni wants more than a one-off with her boss. Unfortunately, he's highly allergic to commitment.

Hence the sexual tension with the mean bite. Suddenly, Erik surprises her by taking her drink from her hand and sampling it. He held her gaze with a penetrating stare, daring her to do something. She stared back at him with her mouth agape and eyes wide.

He sits the drink down on the bar and licks his full, tempting lips, giving her a slow once-over, “Enjoy your cute, little drink,” he offers and heads off, a beautiful model-type following him with lustful eyes. That wasn’t the only woman there that wanted a piece.

As he walks away, Emoni tries not to let her disappointment overtly show, or derail her from the plan: she is going home with some man tonight and will lose herself in their sex. She’s horny and it’s been too long since she’d been full of dick. After all, that always helps her, at least temporarily, to forget her unrequited feelings for Erik Stevens.

She finishes off her drink, giving a surprised hum at how pleasant it tastes…and how light it makes her feel by the time she hits the bottom of the glass.

“When do you plan on admitting your feelings for him? I mean, it’s been over ten years…”

Startled, Emoni looked forward and met the eyes of that captivating bartender. She slid another pretty drink towards her with a mischievous grin. Emoni was mesmerized by her undeniable beauty with a slight trace of vanity.

But wait, how did she know it’s been over ten years?

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

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sippy--sippy · 6 months ago

Text

Page Turner (Kageyama Tobio x Reader) Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🫐~🫐~🫐~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Tobio wants to try something risky with you. CW: Smut, Exhibitionism, Semi-Public Sex Word Count: 3,650 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 A/N: Tee hee, this is my first time (writing smut) be gentle. No gendered pronouns are used, but it is implied the reader is AFAB. MINORS DNI ! Also, this can be read as a stand alone one-shot if you nasties just want the smut

Come to the locker room.

When you got the sudden text from Tobio, you were lounging on a bench outside the gymnasium where Tobio’s team had just suffered a brutal loss to a rival French team. Knowing the loss would weigh on him as it always did, you had already run over to the pastry shop nearby to pick up many of his newfound favorite Italian delicacies. Tobio was a perfectionist, so when games didn’t go his way, he would spend the rest of the evening thinking through every minute of the game, trying to piece together what he could’ve done differently to get his team the win. The added stress of still trying to prove his worth to his new team, even after being on the team for nearly a year, didn’t help.

Moving to Italy after Tobio had signed a deal with Ali Roma hadn’t been easy. Both of you scrambled to learn Italian as fast as possible, find a place to live and adjust to the different culture. You had to find a job, even though Tobio insisted you didn’t need one because his volleyball career could support you both. While he was right, you couldn’t stand the thought of being home alone all day while he was at practice or gone to away games that you weren’t able to attend. So you found a job at a bookstore close to your condo.

It was tough in the beginning since you couldn’t read in Italian yet and could still barely understand it when people spoke to you at the shop. Luckily, the old lady who owned it seemed to enjoy your charm and hired you anyway, especially since you already knew the ins and outs of the book world with your years as a librarian. The job helped your Italian come along nicely, as well as Tobio’s. Back in Tokyo, Tobio would spend any free time he had around his volleyball schedule to keep you company in the library after the two of you started dating. Doing so helped him realize he actually enjoyed reading for fun, not just out of necessity.

Now that you worked in a bookstore and could buy books in Italian, the two of you would spend quiet nights slowly reading children’s books to help improve your comprehension. Now, after a year of learning, both of you are back to reading at your regular level.

The longer you lived in Italy, the more you fell in love with it. The people, the scenery, the food. It was all perfect. Plus, shortly after moving here, the Italian countryside had given you both the most beautiful wedding venue one could ever ask for so maybe you were just a tad bit biassed about how perfect Italy was.

Tobio’s sudden text caused you to pause your scrolling through the comments on your most recent Instagram post (A picture of a particularly gorgeous sunrise streaming through your bedroom window and a small glimpse of Tobio snuggled up next to you, asleep. His fans always went nuts for posts like this. You loved to feed them small nuggets of your domestic life with him). He never asked you to come to him after a game, especially in the locker room. He always said to wait outside and he’d find you. You were instantly concerned something was wrong. Did the loss really affect him that much?

Gathering the bag of pastries in your arms, you stood up from the bench and rushed back inside the building. It was almost completely empty by now. There were a couple fans still loitering in the halls, conversing with each other and a couple building staff roaming around. You doubted the athletes were even still here.

Hustling down a couple of side hallways, you eventually walked up to the men's locker room. It was silent inside. Slowly pushing the door open, it creaked loudly on its hinges. You couldn’t see Tobio anywhere just by peeking your head in, so you tentatively stepped past the threshold of the door and walked inside.

“Tobio?” you loudly whispered. You prayed no one else besides Tobio was inside. You really didn’t need to see one of his teammates naked today. When you received no response, you wandered further in. You passed multiple alcoves of lockers, and a line of open showers before finding him.

He was tucked in the last alcove of lockers, sitting on the concrete bench that ran underneath said lockers. He was slouched forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands grasped together. Dropping the bag of pastries on the floor, you rushed to him. You’d seen him down on himself after games before, but he’d never looked this upset.

“Tobio? Sweetheart?”

You gently rested your hands on the sides of his head and tilted his face up so he’d look at you. To your confusion, he didn’t look angry or sad. In fact, you couldn’t tell at all what he was thinking. You’d gotten really good at reading Tobio’s almost constantly stoic expression, but now you were doubting your abilities.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, almost hesitantly.

You took a step back as he stood up, towering over you. He stared intently into your eyes, brows bunched in thought. You took the time to glance at the rest of him, assessing for any possible injuries that might explain his weird behavior. He still wore his volleyball getup, even his knee pads hadn’t been removed. He wasn’t glistening with sweat anymore but still smelled like it, meaning he hadn’t showered yet either. What was he doing in here the whole time, then? Just sitting? It wasn’t like him, but you couldn’t see any physical clue to why he was acting so weird.

Well, until you took notice of his shorts. They weren’t skin tight by any means, but they sure didn’t leave anything to the imagination when he was aroused. You knew because you had seen it happen many times. You would have Tobio wear his volleyball uniform in bed quite often. You couldn’t help it, he just looked so good in it and it never failed in turning you on.

Tobio slowly removed your hands from his face and instead threw them over his shoulders so your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck, never breaking eye contact with you. His hands then slid down your sides to rest low on your hips, fingers sliding under your matching Ali Roma jersey to hook underneath the hem of your jeans.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbled, slowly starting to tug your pants down, underwear following suit.

“R-Right now?! But Tobio, someone could walk in and see us.” Despite your verbal protest, you didn’t stop him from helping you toe off your shoes and kicking your pants and underwear off your legs.

“I know. That’s the point.” His voice was much deeper and rougher than it usually was.

This was a real shock to you. Tobio had never expressed the want or need to attempt anything public beyond holding hands and the occasional hug or kiss. He preferred having you all to himself in the privacy of your bedroom, and didn’t want to risk sharing you with anyone else. So why’d he suddenly change his mind?

Once your legs were free of clothing, Tobio wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you into the air with ease, walking you back to rest against the lockers with a thud. Your legs automatically wrapped tightly around his hips to keep yourself in the air, feeling his arousal rub against yours.

Your mind was running a hundred miles an hour. The fact he chose his team’s locker room of all places was very surprising to you. Any of his teammates, coaches, or managers could walk in at any second and his volleyball career could go up in smoke. All those years of hard work and dedication, gone. But even knowing this, he wanted to risk it anyway. You couldn’t deny the whole situation had you shaking in both nerves and anticipation.

“W-What’s gotten into you? You’ve never wanted to try anything like this before.”

You fisted your hands into his jersey as he held you up with one arm wrapped tightly underneath you and used his free hand to tug down his shorts just enough to free himself.

“Last Monday, when you had work and I had the day off, I skimmed through one of those romance books you brought home from the bookstore since you’re always raving about them and I was bored.” As he spoke, without any preparation, he entered you slowly. It was a little more uncomfortable than normal, but you were already so wet because of the whole situation that he had little trouble sliding in. It took everything in you to stop from letting out a loud groan, in fear someone would hear. You chose to bite your tongue instead as Tobio kept talking. “They did something similar to this in the book and it was intriguing. I wanted to test it out to see if it was as exciting as they made it seem.” He finally bottomed out, and let out a shaky breath, a small smile crossing his lips as he nodded. “So far, they were right.”

You heaved a breath and let out a light giggle. “Those books are filthy. Can’t wait to see what else you want to try.”

Tobio leaned in to rest his forehead against yours, staring deep into your eyes as he always did and gave you a smile. “I’ve got lots of ideas.” He tilted his head forward the last couple centimeters to claim your mouth with his and started to set a slow, tantalising pace.

He swallowed up the noises you made with his mouth, but he couldn’t stop the loud sounds your back made as it rhythmically thumped the empty lockers. Kageyama was a professional at turning you into a pile of mush. He knew just what to do with his hips to make your eyes roll back into your head.

When you first began dating, Tobio was extremely embarrassed to admit that he’d never been intimate with anyone before. He’d never seen the appeal until you came along, and suddenly volleyball wasn’t his whole world anymore. The first time was awkward, and he was a blushing mess the whole time but Tobio was nothing if not a great learner. It only took him a couple attempts before he knew exactly how to make you squirm. It helped that he had an impressive length. It wasn’t the thickest, but it could reach spots of you you didn’t know existed.

Your toes curled around the air, your legs squeezing his hips to try to get him as close and as deep as possible. You were certain your tongue was going to be bleeding from how hard you were biting it, keeping your noises suppressed as much as possible. Still, whimpers escaped your throat on their own. Tobio seemed to have trouble keeping himself quiet, as he’d decided it would be best to bite down on your shoulder, gripping the Kageyama jersey you wore in his teeth. Grunts still escaped him as he rocked you against the lockers. You honestly didn’t even know why you both bothered to keep your voices down, because the lockers were loud enough to drown out any noise you both made and alert anyone passing by to what you were doing anyway.

Tobio kneaded the flesh of your thighs in his hands, gripping hard enough to leave bruises that you knew he’d profusely apologize for later. Any time you started to slip down the lockers, he’d heft you back up with a thrust that had you seeing stars.

To keep yourself distracted, you busied yourself with gripping the dark strands of hair at the nape of his neck, mouthing at his throat that bobbed at every nip you made. The salty taste of his sweat from the game still lingered all over his skin, and you made it your mission to lick up every single drop that you could reach.

After you started paying special attention to the spot on his neck just under his ear that made him melt, all movements between the two of you stopped immediately when the loud creak of the locker room door echoed through the air. You instantly pulled your head away from Tobio’s neck to stare wide eyed at him in fear. He stared back at you, eyes swimming with concentration as you both held your breath to listen for any more movement.

“Kageyama? Sei ancora qui?” (Are you still here?)

It took every brain cell you had left to translate the sentence as Tobio had nearly pulled completely out of you on his last thrust, now just barely filling you with his tip. You couldn’t place the voice but it sounded familiar. One of Tobio’s teammates?

Tobio gulped to clear his throat before the bastard actually answered him back. He could’ve just kept quiet and the man would’ve hopefully just left when no one responded to him. Now the man would know Tobio was here and might come looking for him.

“Sì, sono stato un po' distratto. Sto proprio per farmi una doccia e tornare a casa.” (Yes, I got a little sidetracked. I'm just about to shower and head home.)

“Va bene, volevo solo farti sapere il programma della nostra prossima partita.” (Alright, I just wanted to let you know about the schedule for our next game.)

As the man went into the details about their next game (you think that’s what he said, at least. You couldn’t focus on a single thing he said), you watched Tobio get a dangerous glint in his eye. On one hand, you were eternally grateful that the man decided to just talk to Tobio loudly across the locker room rather than come talk to him face-to-face. On the other hand, it gave Tobio the perfect opportunity to torture you when you had no choice but to stay quiet.

Supporting you with one arm wrapped underneath your ass so you wouldn’t fall, he clamped his free hand over your mouth. He then hiked his leg up so his foot stood on the concrete bench that ran just underneath you. This spread your thighs apart even further to make room for him as he ever so slowly seated himself fully in you once again. The new angle helped him reach even deeper and hit the spongy part of you that had your eyes rolling so far back into your head, you felt like they were about to pop out of your skull.

To your both pleasure and pain, he didn’t move more than that, forcing you to stay seated on him while he talked to the stranger. Any involuntary clench of your core made him twitch, which brushed that sweet spot, bringing you closer and closer to release but never quite reaching it. Dignity be damned, you dug your heels into his ass to try to bring him even closer than he already was, begging him to move or do anything to get you satiated. Stubborn as always, he refused to budge, planting himself against you as he talked to the man as if he wasn’t buried to the hilt.

To an untrained ear, he seemed to be talking normally but after your years of knowing him, you could hear the almost undetectable shudder to his voice. Good, you thought, he should be suffering too. This is what he wanted, right? So you looked him right in the eye as you started to grind yourself down on him as much as his iron grip would allow. It wasn’t much, but it was doing the trick as his breathing picked up and you saw his abdomen twitch, his own body begging him to move. He gave you a look that made you shiver. You knew you’d pay for this later.

“Fammi sapere se hai domande. Grande partita oggi!” (Let me know if you have any questions. Great game today!

“Grazie, signore. Ci vediamo domani.” (Thank you, sir. See you tomorrow.)

You registered their goodbyes as the loud creak of the locker room door swung shut, leaving you both in dead silence once again. The tension was thick as you stared at each other, both faces flushed and breathing ragged.

“Trying to make me break in front of my coach?” he hummed, pulling his hand away from your mouth once a couple of moments passed without a sound, making sure the man had actually gone.

“This was your idea in the first place, babe. Wanted to make sure you got the full experience,” you teased. “What do you think?”

A smirk graced his face as he trailed his slim fingers down to that sweet spot right at the apex of your thighs. “I think we should do this more often.” And he was off again, setting an even more fierce pace than before.

With the new angle he entered you at and the carefully calculated pinches, rubs and scrape of his nails on the bundle of nerves that drove you mad, you felt yourself nearing your end in mere minutes. He didn’t seem to be faring any better, thrusts becoming sloppy and less timed, his hold on you becoming shaky. You gripped his shirt with one hand and held your own hand over your mouth as your noises became impossible to stop. He went back to biting your shoulder, this time certainly leaving a bruise where his teeth sunk into your flesh through the jersey.

Neither of you said a word as you both reached your climax, groaning in sync as he coated your insides in his spend. Breath ragged, he slowed his movements down to ride you both down from the high until his hips stopped, seating himself within you in content. You held tight to his shoulders, breath heating his neck as you tried to slow your heart rate down. You could feel his thighs twitching beneath yours in exhaustion from supporting you for so long. The only sounds in the otherwise silent locker room were your breathing, the hum of the overhead LED lights and the occasional splat of your mixed fluids falling onto the tiled floor.

After a second, Tobio gently pulled out and set you down on your feet, supporting your weight when you nearly collapsed. Your legs were numb and knees had turned to jelly. You leaned against his broad chest, listening to his quickened heartbeat as he ran his fingers up and down your back.

“I love you,” you sighed, blissed out of your mind.

“I love you too. Sorry if that was too intense.”

You looked up at him and smiled, rubbing circles into the soft muscles around his waist. “That’s ok. I enjoyed it.”

Tobio helped you over to the locker room showers, assisting you in removing the rest of your clothing even though you insisted you could do it yourself. You busied yourself with getting the shower at the perfect temperature as Tobio wet a towel to clean up the mess you both left on the bench and had trailed to the shower. He had shed all of his clothing by the time he returned, holding his personal bottle of shampoo and body wash for both of your use.

He focused on you first, scrubbing your body down with the cedar smelling soap. With the softest touch, he cleaned up the mess between your thighs. You let him do his thing as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist, brushing your fingers over the two dimples that sat in his skin at the base of his spine. He took care, for whatever reason, to keep his body between you and the open locker room behind him. It wasn’t like he was blowing your back out in that exact locker room minutes before. You weren’t sure why he was suddenly so concerned about keeping any straggling eyes off you, but you didn’t mind.

Once your body was washed (you told him not to worry about your hair, you could just wash it at home), he let you wash him. You focused on his hair first, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp as he closed his eyes in delight. Once his hair was clean, you scrubbed every nook and cranny of his body to get rid of any leftover sweat from the game that you missed with your tongue.

You were both contently silent as you towel-dried each other off, helping each other dress and slipping out the back entrance to the locker room to avoid any curious eyes. He held the long forgotten pastry bag in his hand and slung his gym bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to hold onto yours tightly.

“We should try that again sometime”

Tobio looked at you in surprise. “Really?”

“Yep. But next time, let's pick a spot where if we do get caught, you don’t lose your job.”

He nodded and shrugged. “Maybe. That added to the thrill of it though. I don’t think we’ll find a better spot than that. Except maybe in Atsumu’s bed at his next birthday party.”

You giggled and held onto his arm with your free hand. “That could be fun. First though, I want you to show me what else you learned in the book you stole from me.”

He got that evil glint in his eye again and squeezed your hand. “Deal.”

A/N: Ahhh hope you guys enjoyed! Smut is scary to write omg. Next up? Probably Brazil arc Hinata because he’s so babygirl or an Atsumu fic because I love that loser

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 1 year ago

Text

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.

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.

#one piece #one piece au #one piece modern day au #portgas d ace #ace #portgas ace x y/n #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader #reader x ace #the meet cute

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