Soju | Hwang In-ho X Fem! Reader

Can I request frontman x reader(Any gender) Where the frontman meets the reader OUTSIDE of his games, and then realizes he likes them?

(Sorry if I expressed myself a little unclearly)

soju | hwang in-ho x fem! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after rescuing a stranger late at night. hwang in-ho finds himself sharing soju with the girl he just saved. under the glow of the convenience store, an unexpected bond forms, offering a fleeting escape from his solitude. *.✧ word count: 3.7k *.✧ warnings: happens outside squidgame, attempted crime directed at reader, drinking, mentions of death. don't go drinking with people you don't know alone btw, this is just fiction. *.✧ note: hello to the requestor! hopefully this tickled your fancy :P thought about it earlier so I decided why not? I wrote this in 5 hours, hopefully it suffices. shorter than my past works! also a different writing approach. masterlist | request here

༉‧₊˚. As the overseer of the Squid Games, Hwang In-ho has an insane amount of workload like no other. Setting up the venue, recruiting trusted employees, and scouring for rich sponsors are just a few of the countless tasks he manages every year. ༉‧₊˚. He’s a busy man, constantly on his feet, ensuring everything runs seamlessly. But when his boss, Oh Il-nam, forced him to take a week off, he was left with an unfamiliar emptiness in his schedule, unsure how to fill his time. ༉‧₊˚. Currently, he’s sitting outside a small convenience store, a bottle of soju in hand. It’s nearly midnight—11:58 PM, to be exact—and the streets are eerily quiet. ༉‧₊˚. The air is cool, the weather perfect, and for a moment, it feels peaceful. With no one around, it’s just him and his thoughts. It’s a strangely calming experience, though the loneliness creeps in at the edges. ༉‧₊˚. As the Frontman, he has no companions he can freely invite to moments like this. No friends, no family, and no one to share his burdens. ༉‧₊˚. It’s not a bad thing, he tells himself. After all, solitude means safety. Yet, there’s a part of him that yearns for someone to confide in—someone who wouldn’t judge him for the ruthlessness his position demands.

As In-ho took another shot, the warm burn of soju did little to chase away the emptiness in his chest. The faint hum of neon signs and the soft rustle of leaves were the only sounds accompanying him, a quiet solitude he had come to both expect and resent.

Then a scream shattered the night, sharp and jarring. It pierced through the calm like a knife, slicing his thoughts in two.

He froze, the glass of soju hovering mid-air. For a brief moment, he did nothing, his body stiff with instinctual awareness. But before he could overthink it, his years as a police officer took over. He stood abruptly, scanning the dark street for the source of the commotion.

Down the road, just beyond the glow of the convenience store, two drunk men loomed over a figure, their rough voices slurred with mockery. The figure struggled in vain, her cries muffled by one man’s grip.

In-ho didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. His strides were purposeful, his steps heavy with intent. “Hey!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Let her go!”

The drunk men froze, startled by his sudden approach. One of them turned, squinting at him in drunken confusion, before muttering something incoherent. But whatever courage they might have had faltered under the weight of In-ho’s glare, his presence exuding a quiet but dangerous authority. Without another word, they staggered off, stumbling into the shadows.

The figure crumpled to the ground as soon as she was released, her body trembling with shock. In-ho approached cautiously, his gaze softening. “Hey,” he said gently, kneeling down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

There was no response. Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. In-ho hesitated, unsure if his presence was more comforting or alarming. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, its fabric worn but warm, and draped it over her trembling frame.

“Here,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “This’ll keep you warm.”

The weight of the coat seemed to ground her, and she finally looked up at him, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint glow of the convenience store’s sign. Her eyes were wide and glossy, a mixture of fear and gratitude.

With a steady hand, In-ho helped her to her feet. She was light, almost fragile, as if a strong wind could knock her over. “Come on,” he said, guiding her gently back to where he had been sitting.

Once there, he gestured for her to sit, his movements deliberate and unhurried. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a moment of reprieve, a chance for her to catch her breath.

“Thank you…” she finally said, her voice soft and trembling.

In-ho turned to her, his expression unreadable. “It’s no problem,” he replied, his tone calm but distant. “Just doing my job as a policeman.”

The words felt foreign on his tongue, a ghost of a past he didn’t like to dwell on. But he pushed those thoughts aside. “What are you doing out here at this time anyway?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She hesitated, pulling the coat tighter around her shoulders. “I just came out to grab something from the store,” she said quietly, glancing at the convenience store behind them. “Didn’t expect to run into… that.”

In-ho nodded slowly, studying her. She avoided his gaze, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his coat. “What were you buying?” he asked, his tone casual, trying to put her at ease.

She blinked, then let out a small, embarrassed chuckle. “Just snacks. Ramyeon, chips… comfort food, I guess.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Comfort food at midnight? Sounds serious.”

“It’s nothing dramatic,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just one of those nights where you need something to make it feel a little less heavy, you know?”

In-ho’s smile faded, replaced by something more contemplative. He nodded again, his gaze dropping to the half-empty bottle of soju beside him. “I get it,” he said quietly.

The silence returned, but this time it was lighter, less oppressive. After a moment, In-ho reached for the spare cup he had brought earlier, rinsing it with a splash of soju. “You drink?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

She glanced at him, surprised by the question. “Uh… sometimes.”

He tilted his head toward the bottle, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “Well, since you’ve already had a rough night, might as well join me. One drink won’t hurt.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering between him and the bottle. Then, with a small nod, she said, “Sure. Why not?”

In-ho poured her a drink, the clear liquid catching the dim light as it filled the cup. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing briefly as she accepted it.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little steadier now.

He raised his own cup in a quiet toast, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before they drank. The burn of the soju was familiar, grounding.

For the first time that night, the gnawing loneliness in In-ho’s chest seemed to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of shared company. There was no need for words—just the soft clink of glasses and the understanding that, sometimes, even the smallest connection could make the night feel a little less heavy.

༉‧₊˚. After three cups, In-ho quickly noticed that she wasn’t handling the alcohol too well. The slight slur in her words and the way she began to lean more heavily on the table after each sip made it clear. ༉‧₊˚. He felt so stupid inviting a girl with low alcohol tolerance to drink, but there was no backing out now. ༉‧₊˚. At first, he was concerned. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel worse because of the soju. But as the conversation continued, he began to notice something else. ༉‧₊˚. The alcohol seemed to help her relax, peeling back the careful guard she had when they first sat down. Her genuine personality emerged, warm and unfiltered, and for the first time that night, she seemed completely at ease.

“Y’know,” she said, words stretching slightly as she rested her chin in her hand, “you’re not as scary as you look.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow, amused. “Scary? Is that how you saw me?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “When you came running over earlier, I thought you were gonna punch them in the face… which, by the way, would’ve been really cool.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

“Good, ‘cause it was meant to be one,” she replied, pointing at him with a slightly wobbly finger. “You’re like one of those grumpy cats. All intimidating on the outside but probably super soft if you get to know them.”

“That’s quite the comparison,” he said, smirking, unsure whether to be insulted or impressed.

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her eyes still bright. “I’m just saying what I see.”

In-ho found himself amused despite himself, the playful jab catching him off guard. “So, what else do you see?” he asked, curiosity creeping in, but keeping his tone casual.

She raised an eyebrow, considering the question for a moment, then grinned. “I think you’re the type of person who pretends not to care but secretly does. And that makes you kind of a softie.”

“Wow, that’s deep,” he said with a chuckle. “Did you come up with that all on your own?”

She nodded, looking proud. “Yep. I’m a great judge of character.”

He shook his head, clearly entertained by her. “Well, I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment, her smile softening. “You’re not as serious as you seem,” she said thoughtfully.

In-ho met her gaze, surprised by the shift. “Is that a compliment too?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a shrug. “But it’s true. You’ve got this whole... tough guy thing going on, but I can tell you’re not really like that.”

He let out a small laugh, leaning back in his chair. “You sure know how to read people, huh?”

She smiled, a bit smug now. “I told you, I’m good at this.”

༉‧₊˚. In-ho wasn’t the type to open up to strangers easily, but there was something about this encounter that felt different. ༉‧₊˚. Maybe it was the ease with which she joked, her humor a refreshing change from the weight of his usual silence. Her teasing nature and quick wit chipped away at the walls he usually kept firmly in place. ༉‧₊˚. She wasn’t scared of his tough exterior, and in some strange way, that made him feel… lighter. Her playful comments about him being too serious made him laugh—something he hadn’t done in a long time. ༉‧₊˚. One bottle of soju turned into two, then three, with neither of them really keeping track. The night, which had started off quiet and somber, slowly transformed. The stillness gave way to a lively energy, filled with soft laughter, comfortable silences, and warm conversation. ༉‧₊˚. As the alcohol worked its magic, the distance between them seemed to vanish. It wasn’t just the soju—there was something about her presence that made In-ho forget about the heaviness that often weighed on his mind. ༉‧₊˚. Her words were easy, her tone warm, and she spoke with such ease that it made him feel as though he could let go of all the unspoken burdens. She didn’t push him for anything, didn’t try to draw out his thoughts. She just was, and somehow that made the night feel less lonely.

“I mean, think about it,” she said, her giggles spilling out as she waved her chopsticks for emphasis. “If you weren’t a cop, you could totally be one of those broody action movie guys. You know the type—sharp jawline, mysterious aura…” She trailed off for a second, tilting her head as though she were analyzing him. “Like Lee Byung-hun!"

"You’d totally be the antihero. Do you practice glaring in the mirror, or is it just… natural?” She added, slurring a bit.

In-ho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His first instinct was to brush it off, but something about her teasing made it hard to not play along. “I do not practice glaring,” he said, his voice laced with mock indignation, though the corner of his lips twitched upward.

She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes like she was examining a specimen under a microscope. “Hmm…” she murmured, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t know… feels a little too perfect to be unpracticed. You sure you’re not rehearsing in front of the mirror at night?”

He rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped him despite himself. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

She grinned, unbothered by his apparent defeat. “And yet, here you are, sharing soju with me,” she teased, tapping the rim of her cup with a smug expression as if she had just caught him in a trap. “Must be my charm.”

In-ho snorted at the playful arrogance in her voice. He looked at her—her easy smile, the glint in her eyes—and realized that, despite his usual guarded nature, he didn’t mind this. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it. “Well, I guess I couldn’t resist your charm,” he replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, come on,” she said, feigning offense, “You’re telling me the brooding cop is actually soft under all that tough exterior? That’s a plot twist I wasn’t expecting.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “What, you think I’m just some soft guy who lets anyone in?” he asked, the hint of a challenge in his voice.

Her grin widened, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. “Maybe,” she said, taking a dramatic pause, “but I think I’ve cracked the code.”

In-ho stared at her for a moment, half-amused, half-caught off guard. There was something about the way she didn’t hold back, how effortlessly she made him feel at ease, that got to him more than he’d like to admit.

“You think you’ve cracked it, huh?” he asked, leaning a little closer, his voice lowered slightly as if testing the waters.

“Maybe,” she said, still grinning, “But you’re not getting off that easy. I’ll need more time to figure you out.”

In-ho chuckled, a genuine sound, free of the usual tension he carried. He looked at her and, for once, didn’t feel the weight of being the brooding guy with a past to hide. She was right about one thing—she was definitely making him feel lighter.

“I think I could get used to this,” he said, raising his cup to hers in a silent toast.

She clinked it with a quick grin. “You better,” she said with a wink. “You’re stuck with me now.”

༉‧₊˚. By the time they finished their third bottle, her cheeks were flushed, and she was laughing at every little thing. Her laughter was infectious, bubbling up at the smallest of jokes or even just the awkward silence between them. ༉‧₊˚. In-ho, who wasn’t much of a drinker himself, found himself laughing along, not so much at the jokes, but at her genuine enjoyment. ༉‧₊˚. He had never been one to let loose, to be this open with anyone, but her easygoing nature was different. It was so refreshing that it caught him off guard in the best way. ༉‧₊˚. He wasn’t used to this—being around someone so unguarded, someone who could just be, without constantly second-guessing every word or action. And it made him realize how long it had been since he’d truly let go of his own reservations. ༉‧₊˚. At one point, as they were talking about something completely random, she started humming a little tune to herself. ༉‧₊˚. The notes were soft, almost silly as if the melody had just popped into her head. It wasn’t a song, just a tune she made up on the spot, and before he knew it, she started singing it aloud, her voice a little off-key but full of life.

“Do you hear that?” she said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “It’s a hit in the making. You should totally record it.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, resisting the urge to chuckle, but he let it slip out anyway. Her randomness was infectious. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but something about this moment made everything feel lighter, almost like he was seeing the world from a different angle.

He watched her for a moment, her laughter still echoing in the quiet night, and a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.

It was rare for him to feel this easy, this unburdened. Normally, there was always something pulling at him—the weight of his responsibilities, the shadows of his past. But with her, everything seemed to fade away.

Her laughter, her carefree spirit, her utter lack of restraint—it was a stark contrast to everything he was used to, and yet, for once, it felt right. It was exactly what he needed.

“So, are we starting a band now?” he teased, leaning back in his chair, his voice light and relaxed.

She looked at him with a wink, clearly pleased with his response. “Well, you’re the tough guy with the brooding stare, so you’re definitely the lead singer,” she replied, pointing at him with a grin.

In-ho shook his head, chuckling to himself. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for singing,” he said, his voice still warm with the aftereffects of their shared drink.

She tilted her head, staring at him for a moment before speaking with a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, no. You’re definitely the lead singer. The whole ‘I don’t care, I’m too cool’ thing. It’s perfect.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not broody,” he protested, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You’re definitely broody,” she teased, winking at him.

In-ho gave her a smile, but when his eyes shifted to his watch, he saw it was already past 3 a.m. His face softened slightly, and he frowned as he set his cup down.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stood up, the weight of the hour sinking in.

She groaned, leaning back in their chair dramatically, clearly not ready for the night to end. “Already? You’re no fun, Officer,” she complained, the playfulness still in her voice.

In-ho shook his head, half-amused, half-concerned. “And you’re someone who needs to get some sleep,” he replied firmly, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

She pouted at the suggestion but took his hand anyway, stumbling slightly as they stood up. “Fine, but only because you’re being all responsible and stuff,” she said with a mock pout, though her lips were curled in a smile.

In-ho chuckled, steadying them as she swayed a little. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself enjoying the moment—taking the time to care, to share something lighthearted, even if it was just for a brief while.

༉‧₊˚. On the walk to their apartment, their playful teasing didn’t stop. She nudged him with her shoulder every chance she got, laughing at her own exaggerated guesses about his “dark and mysterious backstory.” ༉‧₊˚. In-ho found himself relaxing more than he thought possible, their carefree energy infectious, filling the air between them with an ease he hadn’t felt in ages. ༉‧₊˚. For once, he wasn’t thinking about the weight of his past, or his responsibilities, or any of the worries that usually clouded his mind. He was just... enjoying the moment.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice light as they neared her building, “you’ve got my name, but I don’t think I ever got yours.”

She stopped in front of the door and turned to face him, giving him that mischievous grin he was beginning to recognize and love. “It’s [Lastname] [Name],” she said, her voice soft but steady, her eyes sparkling with that playful glint.

“[Name],” he repeated, the unfamiliar sound of it rolling off his tongue as if testing it for the first time. He nodded, as if committing it to memory. “I like it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, teasing. “Yup. And don’t forget it.”

He chuckled, a low sound that felt foreign but good. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

She stepped closer, her grin widening. “Thanks for tonight, In-ho,” she said, her voice softening just a little. “You’re a good guy. Like, a really good guy.”

The compliment hit him harder than he expected, and for a brief moment, it made him uneasy. Good guy? His mind flickered back to his role as the Frontman—the games, the deaths he orchestrated, and the weight of the people he’d let down. He wasn’t sure he deserved to be called “good.”

His lips twitched into a small smile, but it wasn’t easy. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the warmth rising in his chest, the sense of contradiction gnawing at him. “I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered, a modest shrug masking the inner turmoil. His mind battled with the reality of who he was.

With a deep breath, he focused on her again, the playful spark in her eyes grounding him. “But… you’re welcome,” he said softly, the words coming out more genuine than he expected, despite the turmoil that lingered beneath.

Before he could say anything else, she leaned up, quick and confident, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It was brief, just a fleeting touch of her lips, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. The warmth of the kiss lingered on his skin, and for a moment, he was frozen, caught completely off guard by the simple, sweet gesture.

She pulled back, smiling at him with that same playful glint. “Goodnight, Officer In-ho,” she said with a wink, her voice light and teasing, before stepping into her apartment and disappearing behind the door.

༉‧₊˚. In-ho stood there for a moment, his fingers brushing over the spot where her lips had just been as if trying to hold onto the feeling a little longer. ༉‧₊˚. A rare, genuine smile spread across his face, one that felt unfamiliar but welcome. He let out a quiet breath, feeling something shift within him—a sense of warmth, of connection, that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. ༉‧₊˚. Turning away, he started walking back towards the direction of his apartment, his steps lighter than they’d been in a long time. ༉‧₊˚. For once, the weight in his chest felt a little less heavy, and there was a certain peace in the quiet night air. As he walked, he thought, maybe Oh Il-nam wasn’t so bad for forcing me to take a week off after all. ༉‧₊˚. With the memory of her kiss still lingering, he couldn’t help but smile again, the thought of her brightening his steps as he headed back into the night.

What Do We Call This? - Masterlist

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, OP spoilers.

01 || 02

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wqnsho

1 year ago

INFINITELY YOU SERIES MASTERLIST // link to general masterlist here

🕷️ SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

🕸️ WARNINGS - story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

PART ONE // back at the beginning

PART TWO // crullers & constants

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wqnsho

4 months ago

Y'know, I see a lot of posts urging people to comment on fics, so I just want to say, to all the people who do comment, and especially the long commenters:

thank you.

Long comments can be time-consuming. They can be difficult to write, but you leave them anyway!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who comments.

You are the highlight of fanfiction writers' days.

24K notes View Post

wqnsho

11 months ago

the prince.

₊˚ ᗢ suna rintarou x figure skater! fem! reader.

⤷ suna has been leaving practice early and the team starts to wonder why.

“ah, i should start heading out for today.”

suna slings his bag over his shoulders, tugging on the straps as his other hand grips his phone. he’s seen typing a quick message to someone and hitting send the moment his blond-aired teammate walks over to him. from the corner of kita’s eyes, he notices suna’s lips curl into a small, fond smile. it seemed almost uncharacteristic for the boy. so much so that the miya twins are quick to be at his side, leaning over his shoulder with gleaming interest for his friend.

as of recently, suna has been leaving practice a lot earlier than usual. the first time it happened, he hurriedly ran to the locker rooms to change, rushing out of the doors with his shirt still halfway across his torso. the second time, he left when kita turned around to give an earful to atsumu about not taking care of his health. this was the time aran finally noticed something was different about suna, and he reacted with a simple sigh and wave. the third time, he was caught by their coach and forced to give a half-assed apology before running off again, still not learning his lesson. no matter how often the boys see it, they’re always surprised by how fast he can run, especially when he’s putting his mind to something.

this time will be different though. before he could turn around to make a jog toward the door, atsumu stopped him by putting his hand on his shoulder. a glimmer of mischief shining through his hazel-colored eyes. “where do you think you’re going this time? don’t think we haven’t noticed you cutting practices early! you got a lot of nerve buddy.”

osamu wipes the sweat off his brow, coming up to suna, “it’s unlike you to leave early. do you have somewhere to go? afterschool program?”

“maybe he’s going out to see a girl!”

the boy in question looks off to the side, eyes flickering back and forth from his phone to the court. the team had paused their game just to hear what he had to say. he awkwardly clears his throat as he turns away, a faint red tint forming on the tips of his ears, “yeah. i wanted to watch my friend’s performance tonight.”

the miya twins grovel, somehow losing a mysterious bet they’ve made in their heads. kita slowly approaches suna, patting him on the shoulder. it’s a surprise, they all thought. to think that this stoic, snarky, sarcastic man had friends who could tolerate his bratty attitude was nothing short of amazing. in all their time of being together, in the same classes and lunch table, atsumu and osamu did not see it coming. perhaps if they were observant as kita, they might have noticed the way suna would smile at his phone, seemingly texting someone on the other line.

the blond-setter points at him accusingly, “you got friends outside of me and samu? you cheater!”

“this is quite the news…”

“i wonder what he’s watching…”

the man in question was an incredibly sly, albeit lazy boy. the longer he stays in the game, the more he begins to slack off. it was obvious the way his shoulders began to roll back and he took a more relaxed position in front of the net. it’s only when kita is brought into the game that he straightens up his back. aran points out that suna didn’t attempt to hide anything and would have more than likely answered their questions had they asked. the middle blocker never attempted to hide his conversion. it’s so painfully obvious how criminally online he is.

“man, now i’m curious!” atsumu comments, slapping him on the back a few times, “you wouldn’t mind if we join your friend’s little performance?”

“tsumu, you can’t just invite yourself.”

“huh? i just wanna meet them thats all! what if they’re also a volleyball player!”

“he would have said game instead of performance, you egghead.”

“who the hell are you calling an egghead?”

suna remains quiet before pocketing his phone. tugging on his bag, he resumes his walk to the door. “it’s fine. i don’t think my friend would mind.” he certainly would. but he pushes this thought down his throat. if anything, it might help to bring more people for support. he looks back at atsumu and osamu, narrowing his eyes with annoyance laced in his gaze, “just don’t cause trouble for me.”

the rest of the team quickly packed up their belongings, with kita waving them off with a simple goodbye. he says he should stay to clean up the gym while they meet suna’s friend. it was only a few days before their next game, and he thinks they deserve some level of rest. it would also be nice of them to send photos. he’s also quite curious to know who is this mysterious friend.

“i’m surprised you got such a close friend! it doesn’t seem like you talk to them in person.” omimi scratches the back of his neck, fiddling slightly with the ends of his hair. “do they go to a different school?”

“they don’t come to class,” suna replied, tucking his hands into his pocket as they continued down the road.

“so they just skip? how unfair is that!” atsumu huffs, tucking his arms over his chest. if he had the option, he’d ditch the drab books and play volleyball every day. osamu gently punches him on the shoulder, snickering about how it’d make no difference in his grades if he skipped class. the two begin to bicker as aran jogs a little faster to meet with suna.

the dark-haired boy lets out a hum, shifting his head from side to side.

“a prince, i guess.”

ice crackles underneath the thin blade, a snappy yet crisp sound echoing in the open air. a figure waves elegantly through the frigid platform. the shimmer from their ruffled clothes waves back and forth in the air, tempting the audience to lean forward as they raise their arms, performing a triple axel with a slight wobble in their toe. they ignore this flaw, choosing to continue with their program as if nothing happened. sliding left and right, they glide easily across the ice as their hands trail from the vein on the side of their neck, tracing it down to their ribcage.

the prince was not an unfamiliar name. rumors quickly spread at the beginning of the year that a new transfer student would be attending. whispers came from all directions. most of them coming from the ice skating club. they were described to be a professional figure-skater. a whole league of their own compared to the boys’ volleyball team. having won several out-of-country competitions, they came back to japan a kissed hero. it was a shame that on the first day, they were excused from classes for the rest of the semester.

despite not attending class, it was evidence there was a star lingering amongst them.

however, the volleyball team was met with a lot more than just one surprise tonight. they learned very quickly the moment they entered the skating rink, the prince was not a prince, but a lady. she slid across the field with enough grace to match a swan. yet the crunch of shaved ice and precise jumps remind them of the careful footwork of a mountain goat. every move performed was planned. every sweat poured onto the ice was a sign of their meticulous work. in other words, they were flawless tonight.

“man, i wonder how easy it’d be to do those jumps,” atsumu says, looking out to the crowd and back to suna. the middle blocker doesn’t break from the scene in front of him. the team notices the way the skater’s arms move smoothly alongside their skates, almost as if they were one flowing piece in the wind. their facial expression was concentrated, with only a thin trickle of sweat dripping down their chin.

everyone was standing behind the glass, eyes were blown wide as they were met with a sparkling scene. the slow build-up of the song brought everything together. they couldn’t hold back their gasp as they watched the skater perform a double axel followed by a triple salchow, with another jump far across the rink. a jump they could only imagine doing in their dreams. they were starting the second half of their program, yet they’ve performed this many jumps already. it was getting impossible to hide the smile on suna’s face.

“i doubt it.”

figure skating is one of the most rigorous sports anyone could play. not only do you need the mastery of ballet, but training and practice could last months before you are even ready to perform competitively. nothing slips past the judges. not a single step should be wasted unless called for. everything should be perfectly calculated by their choreographer weeks in advance. from the movements of their fingers to the tilt of their neck, only those who were dedicated to this sport can see the small details. while a volleyball player can get away with slipping on the ground, it is a fatal mistake in figure skating.

not to mention, injuries were common in every performance. you might be friends with someone one hour, before they collapse on the ground, being wheeled to the hospital after straining their muscles. it was intense.

you finished your performance, breathing heavily as you waved your arms above your head. although the ice was cold, your body was warming up from the inside out. it was burning with passion. and you lived for these cheers. you could feel it all in the tips of your fingers. this was going to be the start of something great this year. finally able to rest, you turned your head, noticing a very familiar face in the crowd, leading to you excitedly skating towards them.

“rin!” you jumped into his open arms, letting him twirl you around as his teammates stared in disbelief. the cold expression you had on the ice had completely melted away the moment you saw your best friend. “you made it! i got worried you might not be able to see the beginning of my program.”

(l/n) (y/n): professional figure skater, representing japan in the grand prix. her most notable achievement was winning gold in the junior grand prix two years ago, with her main focus being to conquer the senior division by her third year in high school. she transferred to inarizaki in hopes of finishing her education and taking lessons from another coach, but her training program had been more demanding, making it difficult for her to attend classes.

so how did you meet suna? it was very simple. he and you met in kindergarten, having been paired up together because of the latter’s extremely bratty behavior. you were the definition of a picture-perfect child. however, hanging out with him during recess completely changed that perception of you. you would always spend time together, whispering to each other in class. even when it was mandatory nap time, he would always find a way to lay his thin mat next to you, poking the center of your palm to keep you awake.

such antics led to you being a little more rebellious and open-mouthed with your opinions. he gave you the confidence to speak to your parents about your dreams. while he wanted to continue playing volleybal, you wanted to be a figure skater. just like your grandmother when she was a young girl. unfortunately, she got an injury during the semifinals that permanently withdrew her from sports entirely. it was a tragic event that affected your family for years. they wanted you to do anything but figure skating.

your mother, although hesitant at first, could not deny you this wish. not when young suna held onto your hand tightly as you began to sob in front of her, claiming with all your heart that you would, without a doubt, come home with gold between your teeth.

from there, when you were both in middle school, he would always be by your side. he went out of his way to save up his allowance from his mother to attend your competitions. to him, these small things were nothing in comparison to seeing your smile. when you looked back at him after performing your first free skate program, despite missing several of your jumps and hitting the ground with your cheek, you waved and smiled. even when you formed bruises behind the back of your knee, or sprained your ankle, he was always there to wrap gauze around it, laying on your stomach to keep you from leaving your bed. even when you moved away to a new city, crying into your pillow about how hard it is to make new friends in the ballet studio, he was there to comfort you. even when you didn’t make it to first place like you promised him, he was always whispering to you about how great you were to him.

although the distance was far, your heart was close to him.

so the volleyball team was left in awe, looking at the sight of a very soft, domesticated suna holding onto his childhood friend. he holds you tightly as he presses his forehead against yours, not minding the thin layer of sweat and warm air. squeezing your waist, he wonders about the perfect time to say how he feels.

but perhaps it could wait once the two of you make it to the peaks of your career.

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wqnsho

1 year ago

𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤

summary: he didn't mean to push you away so harshly, to build his walls so high, but he didn't expect you to go running to someone else... pairing: zoro x reader, slight law x reader cw: unrequited feelings (or are they?), angst, no comfort an: set in wano, with some minor tweaks! thought of this last night and had to share my pain...oops also, i plan to have some fluffy straw hat stuff out this weekend ♡( ◡‿◡ ) wc: 3.4k

you'd been harboring feelings for your vice captain, for a while. you never acted on it, his aloof nature making you too nervous to make that jump- to try. even then, you were sure that he had more pressing matters to attend to.

so, you kept it under wraps. you trained and laughed and did everything you were supposed to, did everything right, without letting your feelings get too much in the way. it was manageable, and it made you feel good that you could support your crew, even if it meant holding onto your feelings.

it was the little things that gave you away to him. how your eyes darted away a bit too quickly when he met your gaze, how you sometimes intentionally stood farther away from him in a bid to look inconspicuous, even though it made it so much more obvious. he was as dumb as a rock sometimes, yeah, but not when it came to his crew, not when it came to you. he knew. of course he knew, but he had no reason to call you out on it. clearly you didn't want to discuss it and, as long as it wasn't getting in the way of anything major, he could bear it. it was when your emotions served as a distraction, that things became complicated.

the land of wano brought with it many challenges. most where physical, be it sneaking around the shady capital or handling some rowdy criminals. having crew members split up also made you worried, only heightening your senses and making your brain run rampant with what ifs. it all comes to a sudden standstill when you and brook, on your way to the safe house, walk in on zoro. one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen is snuggled right into his side and you feel a twinge of envy.

your heart does a somersault in your chest, something twisting in your gut at the unusual sight. a part of you, the rational side, knows very well that zoro didn't let people into his personal space with such ease. yet, even with her explanation, your mood can't help but sour. it only worsens when you all sit down and discuss more pressing matters.

the stresses of wano, this whole hiyori situation and her ever present enthusiasm towards the swordsman has you itching to escape. your responses become curt and your hands twitch in your lap. it's not how you should be acting, not given the circumstances, but you can't help it. finally, when there's a break in the conversation, you politely dismiss yourself.

once outside, you take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. leaning against the wall of the safe house, you let out a sigh and stare off at some random point in the distance in a bid to quell your passive aggressive behavior. the sound of the door opening catches you off guard, your arms crossing over your chest as the swordsman approaches you with a hardened expression.

"the hell is up with that look on your face?" he'd grumble, his cold demeanor matching the chill in the air. his arms are crossed, his posture tense. while zoro was one to take things as they came, focusing on the present, he couldn't deny that wano and its secrets were gnawing at him as well. he was irritated, wondering why you'd even bother to think about something as miniscule as feelings while there were enemies and actual threats lurking about. when you don't answer, when he figures you wouldn't even have the guts to bring it up, he huffs. "you think I asked to be cuddled up to like a damn toy?" his eye narrows and he takes a step closer, challenging you. "I don't have feelings for her, or anyone, got it?" the lump in your throat is too large to swallow and you nod, incapable of much else. a torrent of sensations swirl in your chest: embarrassment that he'd been aware of your feelings this whole time, guilt for letting them get in the way, and a bitter resounding sting that came with rejection. with a click of his tongue, he turns back and heads into the safe house, mumbling something about pulling yourself together and focusing on what's important.

you're almost glad when zoro ends up splitting off with hiyori later on, your mind flooded with thoughts. in a bid to defend yourself from further pain, you get your act together and squash down those feelings. you do well to put on a brave and happy face, deciding that, yes, there are some more important matters to attend to.

despite that, it's still hard not to see the samurai a bit differently. you knew he was blunt, even harsh at moments, but his approach to such a sensitive topic was a little much for you to handle. even if his words held some truth, that there were more pressing matters to attend to, the delivery of it just made you feel uneasy and hurt. the rest of your encounters are just as quick, your words just as clipped. if you acted any differently towards him, it wasn't out of malice. subconsciously, you defend yourself from further embarrassment and give him the distance you think he needs. while the chaos ensues, your defense mechanism only serves as a temporary solution. once the dust settled, it would be a different story.

finally, when the horrors of wano are dealt with, you can breathe a minor sigh of relief. in the flower capital, alongside your crew mates, you patiently wait for luffy and zoro to awaken from their slumbers. when they finally do, the air feels lighter

in the wake of it all, your emotions catch up to you, which makes you feel worse since this was supposed to be a joyful moment. it's hard to fight that initial instinct, to head over to zoro and ask if he's alright or if he needs anything. yet, you force yourself to take a step back, even if it does look like his bandages need tending to. it's a lot easier to do so once hiyori reveals that she was the one to help bathe him while he was unconscious, your stomach churning as you look away and walk to a different corner of the room. clearly he had someone looking out for him already. with a polite and slightly forced smile on your face, you find yourself heading over to law, who sits in the corner and chooses to observe the moment rather than partake in any conversation. you'd gotten along well with the surgeon, your relationship only growing stronger as he spent more time with the straw hats. he respected your skills and your perceptiveness, your ability to adapt to the needs of those around you and make them feel at ease. when he hears you approaching, he's naturally wary, but relents and gives you a nod, saying your name as a way of greeting you. satisfied, you take a seat next to him and raise a hand to gesture at his arm. "I know you're a surgeon and all, but d'ya think I can help you with your bandages?" you ask him, sincere and with a soft smile. "y'know, before this whole alliance thing is over and all..." he wants to say no, but the genuine kindness in your eyes has him huffing and looking away. a reddish hue tinges his cheeks and he holds out his arm. "go ahead." his tone fights to maintain its usual indifference, though there's a hint of appreciation laced in. on the opposite side of the room, where hiyori 'fixed' his bandages much too tight, zoro glances over at you. he notes the way you visibly relax around the surgeon, an action that has him growing irritated. he was your crew mate, your nakama, someone who would keep you safe, not that second rate captain. when the bandages cut off his circulation, he growls in frustration and tears some of them off. why weren't you over here doing this for him, when you knew exactly how he liked his bandages? why were you tending to law so gently and giving him that smile, the one you hadn't given him in ages? the swordsman isn't blind. he's been aware of the distance you've put between the two of you, how your 'smile' drops as soon as you turn away from him. as the battles had come to an end, he's now forced to recall the events which occurred at the safe house. he curses as his own shortcomings, his inability to think twice about his actions and how they'll affect the future. turning his attention towards something else, he mentally chides himself. what did he care, after all? he didn't do the whole relationship thing, the whole soft and squishy feelings. he was a swordsman, he had a goal and a crew to protect, including you. his thoughts do little to fight off the twinge of possessiveness he feels when he instinctively looks in your direction and catches sight of you holding law's hand as you secured his bandage. something gnaws at his pride, but he pushes it aside for the sake of maintaining his stoic front.

once everyone is healed, a festival, a grand one, is thrown to celebrate the liberation of wano. lanterns illuminate almost every corner, the scent of food wafting through the air as citizens and samurai and pirates all gather around.

dressed in a lovely kimono of your choice, you're more than eager to join in the revelry. the two bottles of sake that you carry in your hands only highlights your enthusiasm. you'd been hanging around with the crew for a while, smiling and laughing, but your mind was elsewhere. zoro thinks, for a split second, that you'll hand him a bottle. despite his aloof nature, he'd always find himself sharing a drink with you at times like this. yet, when you walk in the opposite direction, your smile beaming, your words have him gritting his teeth. "m'gonna go have a drink with law!" you chirp, your excitement palpable.

zoro's jaw clenches as he watches you walk off, his eyes lingering on your figure before he looks away. something simmers beneath the surface, but he keeps it at bay. it's nami's offhand comment that his frustration threatening to boil over.

"don't have too much fun!" she teases, throwing a cheeky smile your way. the others have the nerve to laugh, to egg you on, all while the swordsman relishes in how the alcohol burns his throat.

his knuckles turn white as he grips the neck of his sake bottle, the glass straining against his hold. a plethora of unfamiliar emotions rattle in his chest, but his bullheadedness and pride have him unwilling to budge, even if he wants to grab your arm and pull you back. it wasn't his place.

even when you're out of sight, his eyes subconsciously work to peer through the crowd in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your kimono, your hair, anything. once again, he scolds himself. he had no place to be so... so what? envious? possessive? he was the one to turn you away, after all. regardless, he can't get your smile out of his head. memories of you flood his mind: the banter and the sparring matches at sunset. all of it. just as quickly, he catches himself, bringing his lips to the bottle in a bid to drown out the bitterness on his tongue.

it's nearly a full hour later when you return to the crew, more than buzzed and clinging to the arm of the raven-haired surgeon. he doesn't seem to mind, his furrowed brows and his apathetic expression doing little to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.

glad to be in the company of your crew mates once more, you turn to law and wrap your arms around his waist, your smile so genuine and radiant it makes zoro's chest ache. "thank you traffy!"

the laughter of the rest of the crew echoes in zoro's ears alongside his own thundering heartbeat and boiling blood. what the hell were you doing? a knot forms in his chest, the unfamiliar sensation bringing him a great sense of unease.

he has to force himself to look away, before he realizes that it's not enough. without excusing himself, he stands and walks off towards a more secluded part of the festival. he needs to get away from whatever all that is. he needs to clear his head and heart and steel himself because he shouldn't be focusing on such things.

if you were any more sober, you would've kept your distance. however, it's in your nature to care, to worry and ensure that your crew mates are okay. that's why, as soon as you register the fact that the swordsman is gone, you release your hold on the surgeon and follow after zoro.

it's almost silent, save for the sounds of the festival off in the distance. the streets in this part of the capital aren't as illuminated, but cast enough of a glow for you to see zoro up ahead.

"zoro?" you mumble, attentive despite the alcohol in your system. "what're you doin' all the way out here?" your words are so genuine and full of concern, which makes it all the harder for zoro to respond.

"huh? what does it look like?" he roughly replies, not even bothering to fully face you as he turns his head to the side. "needed a break from all the noise and drunken idiots."

something bubbles in his throat, a lump of guilt that he swallows for the sake of self-preservation. he knows he has no right to be so callous, but can't help the passive-aggressive comment that slips past his lips. "why don't you just go off with that surgeon of yours? seems like better company."

your stomach drops and you take a step back. something wedges itself into your chest, a sense of anxiety and confusion as your mind briefly flickers back to that moment at the safe house. you'd done everything right, hadn't you? you'd given him space and pushed your feelings aside for the sake of the mission, so why this?

your heart starts to race, unable to look him in the eye as you focus your gaze to the side.

"why're you bein' so mean to me...?" you murmur, your hands nervously fidgeting as you await his answer. you just wanted to make things right.

he has to turn away once he catches the hurt on your face. if you were any more sober, you would've caught how he was the one that was truly nervous. the way you threatened to break down the walls he had built for himself has him needing to take control, even if that meant pushing you away.

"m'just being honest." he says, sharper than he means to. "leave me alone. go and enjoy the rest of the damn festival."

regret and longing make his chest throb, but he keeps on his mask of indifference as he takes a step forward and away from you. he wouldn't budge, couldn't.

meanwhile, you stand there, your inhales slowly turning short and ragged. your lips tremble and you fight to hold back sobs, but shortly after, you start to sniffle.

you hated crying, really crying. the crew had seen you shed silly little tears before, maybe over something cute or emotional, but not this. it's something you usually hide away and display in private, but the nature of the situation and the influence of the alcohol have you shedding an uncontrollable amount of tears.

though you shouldn't be, the utter vulnerability of the moment has you feeling embarrassed. you find solace in your sleeves, the kimono becoming damp with tears that don't seem to end. your cheeks sting, rubbed raw as you hide away from him.

zoro's heart drops.

the sound of your sobs is devastating. guilt claws at his chest, threatening to crack him open. when he turns around, all he can feel is regret. the weight of his words, how he treated you, is almost unbearable and makes him feel disgusted with himself.

his mind is racing, wondering what he should do or say to fix this, but he can't come up with an answer. before he can do anything, his mind goes blank at your next words.

"I wish I never got feelings for you." you choke out, unsure if your words are genuine or if you simply wanted to hurt the swordsman. with your shoulders trembling, you continued to cry into your sleeves. "I should've figured that there was nothing in that heart of yours."

deciding that you couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as him anymore, you run off.

he watches you go, his heart screaming at him to go after you, but he can't. the walls crumble and he can't hide anymore, forcing himself to realize that he cares for you so much that it terrifies him. the air is thick with tension, your sobs echoing through the air until they fade away, replaced by the distant sounds of the festival.

regret, self-loathing and longing all swirl in his chest, a torrent of emotion that threatens to swallow him whole.

you don't make it back to the ship that night.

you're too embarrassed and ashamed, not feeling safe enough to be vulnerable. you mentally apologize to the crew, hoping that they aren't too worried.

it isn't until the next morning that you return, or rather, you're returned.

the sun barely peeks over the horizon when law walks aboard the thousand sunny go with you cradled in his arms. you're in a deep sleep, completely exhausted and hungover. you're dressed in some of his clothes, your expression peaceful despite what occurred the night before.

other members of the crew gather around, worried about your well-being, but law is quick to say that you were just hungover and must have gotten lost. however, zoro can tell by the sharp look that law gives him that there was more to the story.

the vice captain grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he watches law gently carry you over to your quarters.

a part of zoro wants to force law to give him answers, to tear you out of his arms so he could cradle you in his. he should've been the one to care for you, to protect you when you were vulnerable, but he hurt you instead. something else nags at him, the fact that you sought solace in someone else's arms.

law comes out of your room, quietly closing the door before walking down the deck. as he walks by zoro, he doesn't stop, but he shoots him another hardened glare. "you're an idiot, roronoa-ya."

oh, zoro knows.

when you finally awaken, you put on a brave face and tell the rest of the crew that you were sorry about your little slip up. you do well to cover it up with a laugh and smile. you build walls of your own, adamant on not getting hurt again.

it's once the crew is happy and satisfied that you make your way back to your room, your head hanging low as you walk by zoro.

your legs come to a stop and you can only hold his gaze for a second before you look away, just wanting to put this chapter behind you. the ache in your chest grows as you wonder what could've been. your voice is small. "look..." you start, hands bunching up into the borrowed shirt you're wearing. "let's just forget this ever happened and stay friends... alright?"

'forget?' he thinks. 'how can I forget that look on your face? the sounds of your sobs? do you think i'd let you go so easily?'

yet, despite the war raging on inside of him, the words stay stuck in his throat.

"yeah." what am i saying? "just friends."

as he watches you walk back to your room, he feels defeated. pathetic. he wants to say more, to show you that he can be the man you deserve, but for now, he sinks back into his usual habits and wonders what could have been.

he knows that he let something precious slip away.

steeling himself, he holds his heavy heart high. a sliver of determination cuts through his clouded mind and he hopes that, one day, he can make things right.

3K notes View Post

wqnsho

4 months ago