#and the golden princess was trying to be supportive
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eddis-not-eeddis · 2 years ago
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chatsukimi · 1 year ago
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ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist
you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.
sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.
the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.
ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.
but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.
'this is where you live?'
your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.
sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...
then again, he is no ordinary man.
'i asked you a question.'
you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.
he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.
yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.
you know exactly what it is.
he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.
'swallow.'
you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.
you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.
'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'
'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'
you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.
'i can't take this.'
he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.
with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.
you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.
he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.
no... no, why did he do that?
'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'
he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-
oh. you calm your breathing.
it's his heartbeat.
alive.
'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.
what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.
'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.
his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.
'it doesn't matter.'
he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.
'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'
you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.
'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'
exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.
yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.
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minghaoes · 4 months ago
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opposites attract | ot13 headcanons
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pairing: ot13 x gn!reader (individual headcanons)
request: what if the reader and seventeen members have the opposite kind of personality. like yk jun is such a tsundere sometimes, but his gf is always clingy too him. lol. like that.
wc: 1k | tags: headcanons!, mention of "princess treatment" in cheols but in a gn way, just some thoughts i had, nothing too specific to mention here ??, maybe a bit stereotypical but oh well
a/n: thank you for requesting !! i decided to turn this into headcanons instead of a smau because i wasn't sure how to do this differently :") i hope you like it !!
join my taglist here ! !
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knight in shining armor ↔ royalty - seungcheol, joshua, vernon, chan
these four like to take care of their partners, all in one way or another. cheol is protective, joshua and chan are gentle, and vernon is casual. they all have a very caring and nurturing nature and therefore, all three of them simply love taking care of and spoiling their partners. the "opposite" of this would be them dating someone who likes to be pampered. someone who's maybe the youngest in their family, someone who loves (and to a certain extent expects/craves) a princess treatment. seungcheol would do it in a "typical" way. think opening jars, doing all the heavy work around the house, simply taking up upon chores that would be physically demanding. joshua, on the other hand, would do it in a gentleman way. he'd open the doors for his partner, prepare a lunchbox to take with them to work, and just make sure that their day-to-day life is as easy as possible. similar, chan would do all of this without being asked, too. he'd even keep chapstick or lotion on his person just so he'd be able to offer it to his partner whenever they need something. in addition, he probably likes to carry some sweets around too, just in case they might need a little pick-me-up, too. lastly, vernon would be similar to both, but in a more casual way. he likes to do small things whenever he knows he is needed, but overall, he waits for his partner to ask him. he likes knowing that his partner turns to him when they need help and he's always more than ready to do it. acts of service is very big for all three of them, so the opposite of this would be someone whose love language is exactly that.
silly ↔ mature - jeonghan, soonyoung, seungkwan
this trio is a little childish: the "opposites attract" trope for them would be dating someone who's mature and more stern to give them a broader view on life as a whole. conversely, they would support their partner in healing their inner child. for instance, jeonhan's partner would not join him in his scheming. when he's planning pranks, his partner is by his side and only ever reminds him to reconsider some of the things he is up to. when his pranks become too big, his partner reminds him to slow down. when his pranks aren't enough, his partner enourages him to flesh his ideas out a little more. similar, soonyoung would need someone to calm him down. he's very active and i think his opposite would be someone who's very calm. what springs to mind is a partner who would playfully join him in his horanghae agenda (as stereotypical as it is), but at the same time remind him to keep it down depending on the situation they're in. think seungkwan trying to stop hoshi from horanghae-ing at unesco ... but he actually listens. lastly, seungkwan is someone who's already more mature than the other two. but i still put him into this group because he would need someone to be childish with. him being able to turn his head off and merely joke around instead of taking charge. he's a silly guy deep down and he would need someone mature to help him be more silly in return.
black cat ↔ golden retriever - junhui, wonwoo, jihoon, minghao
it's a little bit stereotypical to put the cat line and minghao into this category, but it's true. (vernon almost made the cut too). all four of them are more reserved and calm in their ways. they resemble cats in more ways than one. junhui, for instance, is slightly possessive. he likes to be with his partner every minute of the day, no matter what both of them are up to. he just wants to be in the same room as them, even if it's them doing two entirely different tasks. because of this, jun would do well with a person who has golden retriever qualities, simply someone who's clingy. he would love all the attention his partner is giving him and he would absolutely soak it up as much as possible. wonwoo and jihoon are a bit different. they are both too used to being in their own world that having a golden retriever coded partner would help them come out of their shells respectively. instead of staying in all day, their partner would encourage them to go outside, travel, explore the world, and encourage them to try things they're too hestitant to try by themselves. minghao is a different type of black cat coded: unlike the others, he doesn't need a lot of attention nor does he need someone to encourage him to explore more. instead, he would need someone who shows him that life can be fun. his ideal opposite partner would be someone who makes him laugh, someone who reminds him to not take life as serious as he might does.
golden retriever ↔ black cat - dokyeom, mingyu
opposite to the black cat line, these two are perfect for an "opposite" partner who's calmer than they are. to me, dokyeom's opposite partner is someone who can create a safe space for him. he might be loud and outgoing, but a partner who's quiet and introverted would be a welcome change. they would be someone who's his safe haven; someone who offers him an environment that helps him wind down after a long day. similar, mingyu's black cat partner would be someone who offers him a stability. he craves affection and - if you've ever been around a clingy cat, you'd know - a black cat partner would be perfect for this. they would be clingy in a way that matches his, only a lot more casual way. when he comes home after a long day, he'd be able to fall into his partners arms no questions asked . and wind down the same way dokyeom does. a black cat partner could reciprocate their clinginess without it being overbearing - to cancel each other's feelings of the day out.
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taglist: @enchantedlaufeyson @theidontknowmehn @jihoonsbbygirl @christinewithluv @choco-scoups
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© minghaoes 2025.
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erwinsvow · 1 year ago
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GOT WHAT YOU WANTED
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summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.
now spinning: too many nights by metro & future
word count: 11.5k
warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)
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truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry. 
it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs. 
those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.
to jj that is. 
you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.
jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you. 
“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this. 
“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire. 
jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.
“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.
“other.. boy?”
“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.
“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”
“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”
“no. it didn’t come up.”
“ah. got it.”
“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.
“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.
you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.
“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”
“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”
“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”
“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve. 
and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.
but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it. 
you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder. 
“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”
“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you. 
“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.
“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.
“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it. 
it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.
“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”
“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.
“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”
“guys-”
“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”
“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”
“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.
“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj. 
whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.
“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”
“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”
“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.
“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”
“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.
“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.” 
“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.
“yes, you do.”
“no, i don’t.”
“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.
“no, she’s not.” 
“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”
“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”
“no you fuckin’ don’t.”
“who are you to tell me-”
“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”
you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.
“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”
“what else do you want me to say, huh?”
“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”
“m’not ignoring anything-”
“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”
“shut up.”
“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”
“what? what do you want?”
“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”
“don’t talk like that.”
“rafe.” 
exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you. 
that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet. 
you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with. 
the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.
rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.
“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out. 
you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.
“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.
“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.
“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”
“is that your way of apologizing?”
“it’s not an apology.”
“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”
“i didn’t.”
“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”
rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.
“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.
“thanks rafe.”
“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window. 
“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.
“kid.” 
“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.
“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.
“but you get to do it?” 
“that’s different-”
“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.
“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”
“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”
“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”
“rafe. shut up.”
“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea  you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”
“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”
“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”
“rafe?” “yeah?”
“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.
“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”
“goodbye, rafe.” 
you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.
sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality. 
then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you. 
key word: maybe.
the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement. 
maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.
you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.
.☘︎ ݁˖
rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him. 
“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”
“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.
“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.
“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”
“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.
“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.
“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”
“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”
“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”
“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”
“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”
“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.
“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”
“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.
“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.” 
“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.
he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped. 
when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning. 
you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.
if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you. 
kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.
“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.
“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.
“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water. 
“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”
“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.
“then shut up ‘bout it.”
“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.
when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.
“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you. 
the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.
“yeah. i guess i am.”
you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.
“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.
“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”
“you need a ride?”
“no, i drove here, remember?” 
“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”
“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 
sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.
“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.
“talk about it? talk about what?”
“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”
“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.
“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”
.☘︎ ݁˖
at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.
“oh my god-”
“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.
“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”
“what? your mom let me in.”
“you didn’t even text-”
“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”
“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”
“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.
“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.
“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”
“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.
“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”
“oh.”
“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.
“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.
“what about that girl?”
“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”
“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”
“oh. okay. promise?”
“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.
“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.
“alright. get on the bed.”
“rafe-”
“what? i just said-”
“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”
“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”
“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”
“ha-ha. get on the bed.”
“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”
“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”
you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe. 
you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head. 
the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.
rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.
“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”
“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.
“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.
he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.
“you wearin’ anything under this?” 
he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no. 
“good girl.” 
your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties. 
you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.
“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”
before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.
“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!” 
“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”
you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.
you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you. 
rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers. 
“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand. 
limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.
“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?
“nothin’.” 
“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”
“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.
“what?” 
“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea. 
he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to. 
“god, you’re such a boy.”
“shut up.” 
“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.
“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.
“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.
“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.
“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”
“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away. 
you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.
you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.
he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder. 
your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.
with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours. 
you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.
he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy. 
rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.
“you didn’t last very long.” 
“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”
“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”
“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.
“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay. 
you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry. 
“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest. 
“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”
“your parents are downstairs, remember?”
“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.
“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”
“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”
“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.
“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes. 
“why? got nowhere else to be.”
“oh. okay.”
“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”
“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.
“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”
.☘︎ ݁˖
your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.
and the part where you slept with your best friend.
a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.
top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere
kelce: maybe princess finally killed him
top: stop hanging out without us
kelce: top lets just pull up next time
you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.
“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.” 
“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”
“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”
rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.
“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”
you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.
“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”
rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.
“you wanna say that again?”
“uhh-”
“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”
“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”
“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.
“get out!”
“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”
“okay! wait, stay.”
“s’what i thought.”
“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.
“you woke me up.” 
“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”
“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.
“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.
“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone. 
about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.
you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.
but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it. 
with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not. 
after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead. 
the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.
“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.
“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”
“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.
“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”
“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”
“you too. tell them i say hi.”
the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.
you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you. 
you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.
“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.
“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.
“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”
“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.
“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”
“thanks top.” 
you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top. 
walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.
it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on. 
“hey.”
“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”
“yeah.”
“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”
“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.
“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”
“yeah, i did.”
“i just hope they’re sweet.”
“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”
“it’s a great day. good weather.” 
“you already said that.”
“oh.”
“would you stop and look at me?”
“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.
“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.
“i’m fine.. are you okay?”
“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”
“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”
“you were on board-”
“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”
“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.
“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”
“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.
“why are you being so nice about it?”
“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”
“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”
“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”
“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”
“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”
“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.
“you’re starin’.”
“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”
“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”
turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.
from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.
“be��oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.
“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”
you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear. 
he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.
“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.
“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”
“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck. 
“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away
“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.
“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.
your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.
you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.
“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.
“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.
“fun. what time?”
.☘︎ ݁˖
finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.
“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.
“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat. 
you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.
topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now). 
you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.
inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks. 
the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.
“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.
“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.
“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.
he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands. 
if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.
“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.
he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.
“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.
“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot. 
he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.
“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.
“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”
“but i made the last one!”
“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”
“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.
for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.
“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.
“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”
“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you. 
“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.
“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer. 
“alright, you’re cut off.”
the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him. 
you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.
“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”
“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.
“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.
“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.
“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch. 
you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.
this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are. 
rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.
“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”
“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.
“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”
“man, why am i always on top watch-”
in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.
“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.
kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now. 
“enough. why?”
“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.
“you saw me?”
“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.
“what, you jealous, kid?”
“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.
“no, m’not.” 
you bite your cheek and stare out the window. 
“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.
tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.
you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.
you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?
grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.
“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.
“the couch.”
“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”
“i’m starting something new.”
“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.
you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.
“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.
rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.
“what the hell was that?”
“this whole thing was a mistake.”
“it’s been two days.”
“well i’m an emotional fuck!”
“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.
“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?” 
“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”
“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”
“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”
“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?” 
in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.
or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.
the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you. 
you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.
and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.
“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”
“you should have just confessed.”
“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”
“it’s been two days,” you mock.
“yeah, well, we tried it.”
“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.
“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”
“so if we break up-”
“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”
“shut up.”
“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”
“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”
“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”
“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.
“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”
2K notes · View notes
cinnamoonblue · 5 months ago
Text
The 'Nice Lady'
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ONE SHOT (REQUEST) - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)
REQUEST: I am not sure if you take requests but if you do, can you do a small fluff of ace introducing y/n as his wife in alabasta to the strawhats!
WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, use of pet names, Ace is a little touchy but you don't mind, stealing, fighting marines
WORD COUNT: 3,7K
✰ MASTERLIST ✰
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NOTE: This request was so fun to write so I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did ♡ I know that it took me a month to post it and that is why the end is kind of rushed, for which I'm sorry, but I hope you guys understand that things take time and that writing is just a hobby for me ♡ Thank you for all the support ♡ Feel free to like, comment and reblog as it helps reaching more people ♡ Enjoy♡
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Arabasta – the hottest island and country you have ever been on. Sand and endless kilometers of desert between each city are everywhere. Right now, you are in Alubarna, an ancient city and the capital of Arabasta. The city architecture is manly domed buildings and towers, with ruins from the past all over the outside parts of it, making it very exotic and attractive for people from other islands to visit and explore, though now it is mostly local people around as the country has suffered a big lack of water so the drought that has taken over the country is life treating, except for the capital.
Looking for an escape from the burning hot sun in the busy market streets in Alubarna, you have found yourself in a small clothes shop, trying on different and typical for the country dresses or two-piece sets. Taking look at the mirror and twisting your body left and right you will lie to yourself if you say that you haven’t fallen in love with the current two piece set you are wearing. It is a beautify long white skirt with golden belt on top of the waistline with small Caribbean blue stones attach to it. Your chest is covered by a white top – white see-through long sleaves and a bra part, covered in white and golden sequins with a beautiful crafted Caribbean blue stone in the middle of it, you have never felt prettier in a pair of clothes as you feel now. Looking at the mirror you feel like a princess of the desert.
“You are definitely coming home with me.” You murmur with a smile to yourself as you check yourself out one last time. “How much are you by the way?” Tapping with your hands trying to find the price tag your eyes widen once you have found it. “A thousand and five hundred berries! Are they crazy?” Shaking your head in disbelief you take the price tag in your hands and tear it away from the skirt. “Not like I was planning to pay for it anyway.” You whisper with a smile as you gather your own clothes in the small green zebra print bag you have carried with yourself. Stepping out of the changing room you look around carefully before going to the cash register.   
“Oh, I see you have liked the set, m’lady.” The middle-aged man, the owner of the shop you guess, says as he sees you approaching him.
“Yes, I did – in fact I plan to buy more, but you see...” Your gesture to him to get closer to you like you don’t want the rest of the customers to hear what you are about to say. “I’m very pretensions and I was wondering - do you by any chance have something that it hasn’t been displayed yet?” You flutter your lashes at him. “The price doesn’t matter.” You give a little wink as you see him falling for your little act.
The middle aged, slightly round and bald man’s eyes spark with happiness as he hears this – you are his favourite type of client. He tells you to give him a second and that he will be back in just a second and the moment he leaves the cash register you don’t waste any time and run out of the shop. After a moment you hear a scream, a yell, something among the lines “Catch the bugler!”, but it is too late now as you have already escaped and blend yourself with the crowd in the market.
Walking along the streets you start to look around for your husband. He has to be somewhere near by, you just hope he hasn’t wandered somewhere far away, as sometimes he has the habit to does so.
“Buy this apple and you will be able to live up to thousand years.” You hear a merchant offer his scammed goods to someone.
"Sorry, I'm not interested in living thousand years. I just need to live today." You hear the person responds, and a sly smirk appears on your lips. Fixing your posture and lifting your chin up a bit, you start walking around the market a bit more confident. It doesn’t take long before you hear a voice behind you. “Who in their right mind has let you wander around all by yourself?”
Biting on your inner cheek, trying to stop yourself from smiling, you answer. “My husband.”  
“Ah, what a fool is your husband. Letting a gem like you all alone.” The person walking behind dramatically says. “What if someone steals you?”
“I doubt someone would dare.” You shrug with one shoulder as you make a turn, walking into a small dead-end alley, away from preying eyes.
“Hm, how so?” The man behind you smirks as he has followed you and now stands even close to you.
“Because my husband always finds me.” You smile as you turn around to face the man standing behind you and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a burning, full of passion kiss.
“You look beautiful baby.” Ace says as he pulls away from you and checks you all without any remorse. “Damn, I really need to stop letting wander by yourself, because someone might steal you from me for real.” He pulls you close to him as he runs his hands around your bare waist, feeling your soft skin under his fingers.
“I can say the same for you Portgas.” You giggle as you place your fingers on his broad muscular chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He is always so warm, even without the burning sun, Ace is like a walking one, but you don’t mind it, you never had and never will. After all you have gotten a personal heating blanket in the face of your husband for the rest of your life, how can you complain? “Are you hungry my love?”
“Always.” He slowly nods and licks his lower lip, not being able to tear his eyes from the curves of your body in this two-piece set. He usually can’t take his eyes of you no matter what you are wearing, or not wearing, but this piece of clothing is doing something to him.
“I meant food Ace.” You softly sigh as you place two fingers under his chin and lift it up so he can look at your eyes. “Eyes here boy. So, are you hungry?”
“Always.” He says as he pulls you close to him once again and kisses the top of your head before you get on your way to dish and dash somewhere.
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You are both sitting at the bar in the first restaurant you have found. While Ace is already on his third plate you are still on your first, taking your time savouring the taste of the tipical local dish you have ordered for yourself, enjoying the new flavours that you are trying for a first time ever, while your husband just appreciates the fact that the food is good.
“Have you got any leads so far?” You ask your raven-haired husband.
“No.” He answers with frowned brows. “But I’m sure I have something on Lu-” Hearing a loud splash noise from the plate of your husband, you jump on the side as you don’t need to look to see that it is in fact him having a narcolepsy attack midway lunch.
“Thanks God, he didn’t eat something with sauce on it.” You breathe out relieved, after checking your outfit to see it has gotten a spot or something from the food. People in the restaurant gather around your worried, but you told them not to worry as you got this. Pulling Ace up, you clean his face with a napkin as this has become like a second nature to you now, as he slowly starts to wake up.
“Sorry, baby. Please don’t tell me I ruined your clothes.” He gives you an apologetic look as he checks you out to make sure he hasn’t splashed any food on you. You shake your head with a smile and before you get the chance to respond to him - he is gone. Your husband is literally gone, as he has been swept away with a force straight through some walls and now instead of him, a guy identically looking like your husband, stands next to you.
“Ha, now this is interesting turn of events.” You chuckle as you observe the boy with the straw hat standing next to you. “Running away from trouble Luffy?” You ask like you have known him for years, even though this is the first time ever you see your husband’s little brother, whom you only know from stories and his bounty poster.
“Yes, this annoying Smoker doesn’t leave me alone.” He answers to you without even questioning how you even know him or what is he running from. “Hey, are you eating all this by yourself?” He looks back and forth between you and the three extra plates left with food from your husband.
“Eat them if you are hungry.” You smile and hand one of the plates to the young reckless pirate and his eyes widen from happiness as he takes the plate and devours it in seconds. “You can take the rest as well.” You say standing up as you make your way to where your husband has been sent flying to make sure that he is okay, you know he is, but you are sure he would like to know that it was his little brother who caused all that.
“Thank you, nice lady.” Luffy screams after you with full mouth.
You just giggle as you make your way through the broken walls. “Damn, this was quite the impact.” Murmuring under your breath you finally reach your husband, who is getting up from the ground and doesn’t look very happy with what have happened. “Are you okay, Ace?” Your sweet voice catches up his attention and he just nod. Opening his mouth to say something he is getting interrupt by a yell from Smoker, who you haven’t even noticed until now, but he is long gone before any of you can react as he goes to chase after Luffy once again.
“Straw-hat?” Ace looks at you with excitement.
“Yes, I forgot to mention that the person behind this mess in no other than your little brother, so I think you might want to jump in the chase.” With a little twist of your body to the side you gesture to your husband to go run after his brother.
“You know where to meet me princess.” Ace says as he gives you a quick peck on the lips and runs after his brother.
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“Huh? That’s weird. Why am I the only one here?” Luffy wonders as he finds himself in a dead alley sitting on a water barrel, with neither his crew nor brother around. Speaking of his brother, he still can’t believe he has reunited with him after not seeing each other for who knows how long. “Where did everyone go?”
“Sheesh! I guess my letting you escape was pretty pointless.” Luffy hears the too familiar voice sarcastically says somewhere close to him. Looking around and then finally up, Luffy sees his older brother standing there with a big smile.
“Yo, Ace!” Luffy jumps on his feet as his brother lands on the ground.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Luffy.” Observing now his grown little brother, Ace can’t feel anything else but be proud of him and of the man his is becoming.
“You too, Ace.” Both grip on each others’ hands is a strong lock over the barrel. “How long has it been?”
“Good question, but Luffy, it looks like you still go on your own pace, just like you did when you were kid.” Ace smirks mischievously as he can feel his brother putting force in trying to get Ace’s hand down and claim himself a winner.
“You too, Ace. I was surprised you ate a Devil Fruit, but besides that you’re the same.” Luffy says with a big grin.
“Oh, ye?” Ace laughs out loud as he hasn’t expected to hear this. He has definitely changed a lot since they last saw each other.
“Like when you would sneak into the fields and eat a hundred watermelons and then spit the seeds like your mouth is a gun and run?” Luffy blurs out fast as Ace has taken upper hand in their hand fight.
“This wasn’t me. It was you.”
“And then you got big bumps right here.”
“That was you again. I just watched and laughed.” Ace says as he is close to take the hand of his little brother down, but the barrel with water under them breaks due to their strength and their hands stay in the air locked in a firm handshake.
“I guess we’re both the same.” Luffy’s big smile spread across his face as him and Ace unlock hands and go for a high-five. “This brings back memories.”
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Walking around town the two brothers are having small talks and catching up to each other, yet Ace still hasn’t mentioned the fact that he has married the girl of his dreams recently as he wants to do this when you are standing next to him. You have turned his life upside down in the best way possible and having you in it makes it finally worth living.
“Say, what kind of crew you have?” Ace is curious to know with what people his little brother has surrounded himself and Luffy wastes no time telling him about his crew – a swordsman, a navigator, a cook, a lair and the latest addition a reindeer. “That’s quite the variety you’ve got there.”
“We also have a princess and a duck now.” Luffy excitedly exclaims. “They’re all so interesting.”
“I’m sure you are the most interesting of them all.” Ace chuckles. “Still, a handful of people for a pirate crew... That’s just like you.” He smirks looking at Luffy.
“And I want a musician, too.”
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You are waiting patiently by the Striker. It has been some time now, but you are sure that Ace is just catching up with his little brother. As you are sitting and waiting, finally, you see you husbands silhouette approaching you. You get up on your feet and smile at him once he stands in front of you.
“How was it?” You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck.
“You have to meet him officially.” Ace tells you with a big smile. “He is already on his ship so we can make a quick visit. After all I need to check his crew personally, what if they are not good enough for him?”
“Ay, ay commander.” You laugh out.
You and Ace gather your things quickly in the Striker and get to the open sea fast. As you are approaching the Going Merry you notice that there are quite lot of marines.
“I will take care of them.” Ace winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes. He just wants to show off to his little brother and crew, but you won’t deny that you enjoy the show yourself. It doesn’t take long for your husband to take down the three marines ships after all he is Fire Fist Ace, what else is there to be said?
Landing on the railing of the Going Merry, Ace is met with an awe by the entire crew. While they are having their little interaction you have reached the ship with the Striker and quietly made your way up to your husband who sensed you the moment you stopped your little boat.
“Hey, Luffy.” Ace awkwardly says with a big grin spread across his lips. “There is someone I would like you to meet.” He scratches the back of his neck as he is not sure exactly how to announce to his brother that he is a married man now. “You see I-”
“Hey, what are you doing here, nice lady?” Luffy asks confused as he is the first one to notice you standing next to Ace on the railing, and now him, his crew and your husband all look at you confused. A sea of questions start being thrown at you from how you managed to get on the ship to who you are, until one particular question takes everyone out by surprise.
“Nice lady? Why does he call you this?” Ace looks at you in confusion.
“Oh, we met in the restaurant where he sent you flying.” You explain with a smile and Ace’s eyes shit to Luffy who nods his head in confirmation.
“She let me eat for free.” Luffy adds and now it all makes sense to Ace why he calls you the ‘nice lady’. “How you two know each other?”
Looking at you, with all the love and admiration in the world, Ace can’t stop the smile which spreads across his face as he says, “This is my wife.” You return the smile as you two step down of the railing into the deck and interlace your fingers. “Luffy and crew, this is my wife (Y/N).” Ace introduces you to everyone and they are all in awe, now that the confusion and shock has passed away.
“He is a good big brother.” Chopper, the cute reindeer doctor says, and Usopp the guy with unusual long nose nods in agreement.
“Wish I had one growing up.” Usopp adds to Chopper’s comment.
“And he is a good husband.” Nami the navigator of the ship as she has introduced herself to you exclames as she cluches her chest admiring you and Ace.
“A loving one on top of it.” Vivi, the princess of Arabasta, adds as she wraps her arms around Nami.
“I hope I get blessed with such a beautiful, gorgeous wife myself one day.” Sanji, the cook of the ship cries out, and for a moment you even think that if his eyes can turn into a heart shape they will. 
“Simp.” Zoro, the swordsman, makes fun of him, but the blush on his face is not helping as he shyly takes glance at you.
“Wife? Why?” Luffy’s eyes shifts between you and Ace in slight confusion. The whole concept of marriage has been something he has never understood so this is a bit confusing for him.
“What do you mean by why, you idiot?” Sanji screamed at him. “Having a wife as beautiful as (Y/N)-swan must be the closest feeling to heaven.” He cries out again.
You and your husband just laugh at the scene in front of you. His brother is exactly as he has described him, but he is obviously a good kid with good friends along his journey.
“When did you two married?” Vivi looks at you excitedly and Nami follows her with a question.
“How did you two meet?”
“How do you find a woman like her?” The lovesick cook cries out... again.
Before you or Ace can answer any question Luffy interrupts. “Why don’t you stay with us for a bit?” To which you agree.
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Two days have past since you have joined the crew and both, you and Ace, are having fun with his brother and friends. The similarities between Ace and Luffy sometimes scare you a bit, due to the fact that you are aware they are not biological brothers by any means, yet they act and look like ones so much.
The night has taken over the desert and you are having fun with the girls, missing the feeling of having female company around you, as the crew you are part of is mostly made of men, which you don’t mind, because not only you have met the love of your life among these men, but also your family.
Everyone has started preparing to go to sleep, while the little adorable reindeer Chopper is having a little banter with Usopp, but Zoro is quick to put an end to it. Meanwhile Ace is observing everyone and everything carefully, enjoying the night, but also lost in his own thoughts.
“Yo, Luffy. Come here.” Ace calls out for his brother and signals to him with a nod to follow him. Stepping aside from everyone and making sure that no one would hear him, Ace looks at Luffy seriously. “I want you to promise me something.”
“What?” Luffy raises one brow a little annoyed with his brother interrupting his fun before bed.  
“If something ever happens to me, I-” Ace can’t finish his sentence as he is quickly being interrupt.
“What do you mean if something happens to you? You have promised me that you won’t die.” His brother is quick to remind him the promise Ace has given a long time ago.
“And I won’t.” Ace replies slight harshly as his brother doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. “Now let me finish what I have to say.” He scolds Luffy. “I’m saying – If something happens to me, I want you to promise me to take care of her.” Ace can’t help but look at your direction. “I know she is strong and can handle herself no matter what, but please, promise me that you will look after her if something ever happens.” He returns his attention to his brother.
“I promise Ace. But you also have a promise to keep.”
“And I will.” Ace winks to his little brother as he pats his back, and they return to the rest of the group.
Seeing them coming back you give Ace a smile – a smile for which he is willing to die for but also keep on living for every day, as his days have become better since the day he saw it for a first time ever. Back there he has promised to himself on the spot that he will call you his wife no matter what, and he did keep his promise.
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writing, format, header & dividers © cinnamoonblue ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.
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florihaei · 7 months ago
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၇୧ ENHYPEN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ˖ ་.
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CONTENT — wc • 1.4k fem!reader. lowercased intended. established relationship, boyfriend enhypen 𐔌͡ㅤׅㅤㅤ✿ written with love by autum!
秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ first enhypen story on this blog!!, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!, hope you enjoy!!
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、HEESEUNG
˖ ་. AFFECTION : heeseung would be a playful blend of playful and romantic, he’d would often tease you with his little remarks, laughing when you get flustered, but he’d also know when to shift into his serious, caring side. when you’re upset, he’d hold you close and he would always try to make you feel better “im here for you baby, always. don’t forget that”
˖ ་. ACTS OF LOVE : he’s the type to know the smallest details about you, your favorite snacks, the way you like your coffee, or the littlest things that make you happy. everyday you always find a handwritten note tucked in your bag that always reads “good luck today!, you’re amazing baby, I love you!”
˖ ་. MUSIC BONDING : late at night, he’d pull out his guitar and start playing softly. “wanna hear something ive been working on pretty?” he’d ask, singing lyrics that seemed to be written just for you. those private concerts would make you feel like the most special person in the world.
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JAY
˖ ་. PROTECTIVE : jay would always make sure you’re safe, whenever it’s walking you home or ensuring you’re eating well. “text me when you get there okay princess?, i just want to make sure you’re alright” he’d say, his voice filled with genuine concern
˖ ་. FOOD ENTHUSIAST : jay would thrive in the kitchen, cooking you your favorite meals and teaching you some of his family’s recipes. “no, no like this princess” he’d say, guiding your hands as you tried to cut the vegetables. even when the dish doesn’t turn out as perfectly as you wanted he’d laugh and say, “baby.. it’s the effort that counts yeah?”
˖ ་. THOUGHTFUL : you always find small or even big thoughts gifts waiting for you, like roses on your doorstep, taking you out to dinner, or even having a playlist full of songs that reminded him of you. he would also have a beautiful journal with a heartfelt note inside. “i saw this princess and i thought of you” he explained, smiling warmly.
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JAKE
˖ ་. GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY : jake would bring you so much positivity and support into your life. “pretty, you know you’re incredible, right?” he’d say, his eyes sparkling with pride, whenever you accomplish something, or every time you talked. jake was so in love with you, and would do anything for you.
˖ ་. CLINGY : jake always wanted to be near you at all times and was always ready for whenever you two cuddled after a long day. “c’mere pretty girl, you look like you need a hug” he’d say, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. whenever it’s holding hands while walking or resting his head on your shoulder, he would constantly seek that physical connection
˖ ་. BEING TOGETHER : jake wants to be with you all the time, which makes him plan adventures or little dates just to be with you, like midnight drives to watch the stars or little picnic at the park when it’s nice outside. “you know pretty, life is much more fun when we’re just together?” he’d say , snapping a photo of you to capture the memory’s
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、SUNGHOON
˖ ་. COOL BUT SOFT : at first, sunghoon might seem reserved and quiet but that’s really not him, as he opens up, you’d see his sweet and thoughtful side of him. “i-i .. wasn’t staring m i was just.. you look nice today baby..” he’d say as he looked away, as he got caught staring at you.
˖ ་. SUBTLE AFFECTION : sunghoon would sometimes quietly show his love in actions rather than words. lending his jacket without being asked knowing that your cold, or fixing something you mentioned in passing would be his way saying “i care about you” sunghoon is always listening, even if you don’t realize.
˖ ་. ICE SKATING DATES : a trip to the ice skating rink will always be a regular date for you two. he’d patiently teach you blow to skate , even if your paranoid ever 2 minutes about falling, or him not holding you tightly. “baby.., don’t worry i got you okay, im not going to let go” he’d say, smiling as you nervously wobbled on the ice.
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、SUNOO
˖ ་. SUNSHINE IN HUMAN FORM : sunoo would always know how to cheer you up and make you feel better. “don’t be sad.., your to beautiful for that, let me make you feel better beautiful.” flashing his pretty smile at you and pulling you into a big hug, just trying to make you feel better.
˖ ་. AESTHETIC: he’d take you out to the most beautiful cafes and parks that he would find, always ensuring every date or outing you two go on it felt magical and you had the most wonderful time. “this place is so pretty.., just like you beautiful” he’d say, as you smack his arm playfully calling him cheesy for his words.
˖ ་. GREAT LISTENER: sunoo would be the person that you could always go and talk to, you go to him when you need advice, your sad, you need someone to talk to, or when you just want to be near him. “go on beautiful, im listening.” he’d say holding your hand and offering advice that made you feel comfortable and understood
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JUNGWON
˖ ་. NATURAL LEADER : jungwon would naturally take care of you, always making sure you’re healthy and safe, you always come first before anything and everything. “have you eaten something today baby? no?, let me order something for you” he’d say, his concern evident in his tone.
˖ ་. PLAYFUL : jungwon would always love to tease you in a lighthearted way, always aiming to make you laugh, and of course you always did. “oh?, you think your funnier then me baby?, that’s cute.. i guess we’re going to have to see who’s more funny yeah?” he’d say with a cheeky grin.
˖ ་. DATES : he’d always enjoy spending quiet nights with you. it could be such as building blankets forts together or cooking meals together, whatever it was it would build your bond closer. “did i ever tell you, these are my favorite dates” he admitted, holding your hand as you two continue to watch the movie together.
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、NIKI
˖ ་. PLAYFUL AND FUN : you always had fun around niki, he would always bring out his endless energy and laughter to your relationship. “you’re so bad at this game, it’s almost impressive baby” he tease, but you and him both know he’d always let you win in the end, just to see you smile.
˖ ་. GAMING BUDDY : playing video games together would always be a regular occurrence. “you wanna team up or battle baby?, either way you’re going down” he’d joke with you, loving ever moment of your competitive side.
˖ ་. SOFT SIDE : despite his playful side and always teasing you, he would also have a tender side that he would let out when he’s see something is wrong. “hey baby.., are you okay?, you know you can talk to me about anything” he’d say softly, his usual energy shifting into genuine care whenever you needed it.
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levanterhaze · 1 month ago
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── spring into summer, bangchan
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♡ 󠀬󠀬dad!bangchan x actress!reader: angst (a lot of it) and heartbreak (again).
♡ synopsis ― You left him behind to chase your dreams, your best friend, your first love. Now you're back, and everything's changed. He's a father. You're a star. But some flames never die. Maybe it waits.
♡ [5,5k] & notes ― oh gosh, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love & support. this means so much! here's another chapter for you and i really hope you enjoy this one. you can listen to the playlist HERE.
chapters: CHAPTER O1 - CHAPTER O2
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CHAPTER O3
Morning slipped into the room in golden streaks, brushing the floor with light that warmed the air but couldn't quite reach the quiet between your ribs. The scent of clean cotton and yesterday’s cinnamon cookies still lingered like ghosts of a simpler time. The house was still, almost reverent, except for the hum of your thoughts, heavy with the residue of the night before. It hadn't been a dream. Not entirely.
You stepped out of the bathroom, hair damp, skin flushed from the shower, and paused at the sound of a laugh, a sharp, unfiltered sound that cracked through the hush like sunlight through glass. Then came a groan, dramatic and deep, followed by something else. A soft thud. A child’s giggle. And his voice.
Descending the stairs slowly, you hovered just before the living room, careful not to reveal yourself too soon. Something about the moment made you feel like an intruder, like you’d stepped into a life that wasn’t yours anymore.
There he was, Chan, sprawled across the carpet like some fallen myth, arms flung wide, a crooked tiara perched absurdly in his hair. His daughter sat triumphantly on his back, her small hands pressing into his shoulders, the glitter from her dress catching in his curls like it belonged there.
“Daddy,” she said, in that breathless, joy-struck tone only kids have, “you’re supposed to be the dragon.”
“I am the dragon,” he groaned, face buried in the rug. “But this dragon needs five minutes. The princess used forbidden magic again.”
“You said dragons don’t nap!”
“This one does,” he muttered, cracking one eye open with theatrical effort.
You leaned against the doorframe, and the sight hit you with such force it almost made you laugh, almost made you cry. Her tutu flared like cotton candy, her cheeks flushed from play. And him, he looked exhausted in a way that wasn’t just physical. But he was softer here. Gentler. Like the man you remembered when the world was only as big as a hometown and two beating hearts trying to grow up together.
She climbed off him with all the seriousness in the world, placing her fists on her hips. “You’re supposed to fight me. I’m the warrior princess. You’re the evil dragon.”
“Evil?” he blinked at her, feigning a scowl. “And grumpy, too, I suppose?”
She nodded, delighted. “Very grumpy. You never smile.”
“That’s not true,” he said, more to the floor than to her.
“Then prove it,” she challenged, folding her arms. “Smile.”
He paused, mid-breath, and something in his expression shifted, barely, but enough. His eyes softened. A crooked, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth like it had snuck up on him. Real. Unpolished. Briefly unguarded.
Yuna gasped, wide-eyed with delight, as if she'd just witnessed a rare phenomenon.
“See? You can smile!”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured, dragging her into his arms with exaggerated defeat. “I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
She squealed, shrieking through a fit of laughter as he tickled her ribs and lifted her like she weighed nothing. Her tiny arms clung tightly around his neck, and without hesitation, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, careless, full of love. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Just let it wash over him like he didn’t quite know how to receive it, but couldn’t bear to let it go either.
“You’re not really that grumpy,” she whispered, resting her cheek against his shoulder, her voice softened with certainty.
He tilted his head slightly, his voice low. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that. It’s a secret.”
She nodded solemnly, then reached up with both hands and carefully straightened the crooked tiara in his hair, like she was fixing something fragile and sacred.
Chan glanced up, catching your eyes from across the room. And for the briefest beat, the heaviness in his chest seemed to lift. No past. No grief. Just the golden light of morning and the warm weight of a child in his arms. Something about it made him look younger. Lighter. Like the version of him you used to know, the one who used to laugh without restraint and love without fear.
You stepped into the room, the corner of your mouth twitching upward despite yourself.
“Looks like you two are having fun,” you said, voice calm, casual but your pulse betrayed you.
You weren’t sure how long he’d been lying there, or why he looked so at home in the middle of your parents’ living room floor. But somehow, the absurdity of it didn’t matter. What mattered was how natural it looked. Him. Her. The sunlight.
“Princess!” Yuna shouted, bounding out of his arms and into yours like she hadn’t seen you in days. You caught her, laughing as she wrapped herself around you.
“You have to play with us,” she demanded, breathless with excitement. “Daddy’s the evil dragon and you can be the princess in distress!”
You raised a brow, glancing toward the floor where Chan sat cross-legged, glitter stuck in his curls and that ridiculous plastic tiara still clinging to his hair. His eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of warning in them, playful and sharp. If you laugh, I swear.
You didn’t laugh but you smiled. Just enough to be dangerous.
Yuna took your hand and led you to sit beside him, her little hands already orchestrating the rules of her magical kingdom. But she stopped abruptly, mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing like she was working through something serious.
“Daddy,” she said slowly, “does the princess live in the coffee can?”
You blinked. “What?”
She tilted her head, thoughtful, like she was putting together a puzzle only she could see.
“I saw you,” Yuna said. “At the coffee shop in the supermarket.”
You blinked, confused, trying to follow her childlike logic, until your gaze slowly shifted to Chan, who had gone very, very still.
Yuna pointed, trying to help. “With your face! The smiling one! On the cup! With the big letters. Daddy bought… a lot. Right, Daddy?”
Silence. You turned to him, one brow arched.
He didn’t meet your eyes. “It’s good coffee.”
Your jaw dropped a little. And when it clicked, you laughed, sharp and breathless, bracing your hands behind you as you leaned back.
“Oh my God. You bought coffee with my face on it?”
“I didn’t realize it at first!” he blurted, already defensive, rubbing the back of his neck as a flush crept up his cheeks. “I just grabbed it off the shelf one day and didn’t notice until I got home.”
“And then you bought it again?”
“…It tasted good.”
You were still laughing, and now Yuna was giggling too, even though she clearly had no idea why. You straightened up, smoothed your dress, and turned fully toward him, eyes dancing with mischief.
“So,” you teased, arms crossed. “Are you telling me I’m your favorite blend?”
Chan groaned, tipping his head back with a hand over his face. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” you whispered, stepping in closer, close enough that your noses nearly brushed. “You’re obsessed with me. You drink me every morning.”
He looked at you, exasperated, conflicted… and for one brief second, completely undone. You saw it in his eyes the quiet ache, the trace of something unspoken lingering just beneath his breath.
“… Please stop talking,” he muttered.
But he didn’t move away. And neither did you. From the floor, Yuna’s dreamy little voice floated up like a secret she hadn’t meant to share.
“Daddy likes her.”
Chan closed his eyes in defeat. You bit back a smile. He clenched his jaw, clearly trying not to lose it. You pressed your lips together, barely keeping your laughter in check.
He looked at you like a man who had just accepted defeat, cheeks flushed, pride bruised. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance, champ.” You reached up and plucked the tiara from his head, settling it onto your own with mock regality.
He bit down on a smile, but it was there tucked in the corner of his mouth, buried beneath all the things he wouldn’t say. You were too close. Too at ease in his space, too natural with his daughter, too familiar for comfort. And yet, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. That’s what scared him. One more step and he’d kiss you, and he knew it. God, he wanted to. But he couldn’t.
And then, a cough. Sharp. Intentional. You both flinched like guilty teenagers caught sneaking around. Ara stood in the doorway, her backpack slung over one shoulder, one brow already raised.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Chan cleared his throat and stood abruptly, scooping Yuna into his arms like it gave him something to do with his hands. “Nope. Not at all. Just… wrapping up.”
“Where are you going?” you asked, suspicious.
“Ara’s babysitting Yuna for the rest of the day,” he said, avoiding your eyes. “I’ve got work stuff to take care of.”
You looked from your niece to your sister, surprised. That was news. Your tongue burned with the question you were dying to ask.
Instead, you took a breath. “Can I catch a ride?”
Chan hesitated. Just for a second.
Then he nodded once. “Yeah. Sure.”
His voice was casual. Too casual. Like none of this meant anything. But your heart  traitor that it was  didn’t believe him for a second.
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You didn’t really know why you asked for a ride. Maybe part of you just wanted to sit beside him again, to study the man he’d become, to see if any part of the boy you once loved still lived behind his eyes.
After dropping off Ara and Yuna at his house, Chan asked where you wanted to be dropped off. You didn’t have an answer. Not a real one. So you made something up, said you needed to pick up a gift for Felix, since he’d invited you to his bar. Said it would be rude to show up empty-handed.
He didn’t question it. Just drove. When he pulled up by the sidewalk, the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have. It sat between you, dense, like something waiting to be named.
Chan turned slightly, fingers still resting on the wheel. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say. About earlier. What Yuna said.”
You tried to deflect, forcing a smile. “You mean about the coffee?”
But you knew. That wasn’t what he meant. His voice was careful, slow as if he’d rehearsed this in his head and still wasn’t sure it would come out right.
“She’s an open kid. Loves easily. But she’s drawn to you, in a way I haven’t seen before. And I just… I want to be careful. I don’t want her to get confused. Because of Grace.”
There it was, clean, final. Grace. The shame hit like cold water. Your stomach turned.
What were you doing, playing with fire in a house that wasn’t yours? Flirting with a man who didn’t belong to you, not anymore, maybe never again.
“Oh.” You swallowed. “I’m sorry, Chan. I’d never want to interfere. I didn’t mean to—”
But you had. Not in words, maybe. But in the space between them. In the look that lingered too long. In the breathless quiet when he was too close.
You wanted to ask where Grace had been all this time. Why there were no traces of her in the house, no mug, no shoes by the door. You wanted to ask if he had felt it too, the gravity between you, and if it scared him half as much as it scared you. You wanted to ask if he still thought about you the way you still dreamed about him, silently and often.
But you didn’t ask. Because wanting was one thing. Taking it was another.
He opened his mouth again, like he might say more but your phone lit up with a call. Your manager. The timing couldn’t have been crueler. Chan’s hand gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary, and he looked away like it hurt to meet your eyes.
“Thanks for the ride,” you murmured.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Anytime.”
But you both knew that wasn’t true. Time has never been on your side.
You stepped out of the car, and the door shut with the soft finality of something ending. It felt like goodbye. Not the dramatic kind but the quiet, irreversible kind. The kind that carves a small, permanent ache inside your chest.
And as you walked away, you told yourself this was just closure. That the ache would fade. That you could live with what was left. But it was a lie, the kind you tell only when the truth might undo you.
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It wasn’t hard to find Felix’s place. The sign read THE AUSSIE, all clean lines and wood grain, somehow managing to feel both sleek and homey, exactly like him. You spotted it from down the street, sunlight catching on the gold lettering.
The “closed” sign in the window gave you pause, but you knocked anyway. A familiar blond head popped up behind the bar. He grinned the second he saw you. He was already moving, unlocking the door with one hand and pulling you into a hug with the other, that kind of hug that made you feel like you’d come home without knowing you’d left.
“Look at you,” he said, pulling back. “What a surprise.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“For you? Never.”
You stepped inside. The space was small but full of charm. Modern, colorful, a little chaotic in a good way. Bottles lined the back wall in a rainbow of glass, and a low stage sat tucked into one corner, waiting for music.
You held out the camellia plant. “For luck. And because I figured you’d like to decorate with anything alive.”
Felix grinned and took it gently, like it was something rare. “You know me too well.” He gestured to the bar. “Sit. I was unpacking some new stuff. I’ll make you something.”
“You sure I’m not interrupting?”
He shot you a look as he ducked behind the counter. “You couldn’t interrupt if you tried.”
You sat, watching as he disappeared into a stack of half-open boxes and bubble wrap. “What do you feel like?” he called out.
“Not alcohol. It’s too early.”
“Wow. Fame really changed you.”
You laughed. “I’ll take something sweet. Surprise me.”
A few minutes later, he slid a glass across the counter. Pink, fizzy, garnished with lemon and a sprig of something green.
“Try that.”
You took a sip. “That’s ridiculous. What is it?”
“Strawberry, lemon, a bit of mint. Nothing fancy.”
“It’s so good, Lix.”
Talking to Felix had always been easy. Maybe because he still looked at you like nothing had changed, even though everything had. Maybe because he’d always been this way,  warm, open, kind without trying. Younger than you and Chan, but in a lot of ways, steadier.
He smiled, leaned on his elbows across the bar. “So. Miss Hollywood. Tell me everything.” Felix asked, sliding a drink toward you with that warm smile of his. "Kind of surreal having someone off my TV show up in my bar."
You laughed, brushing a finger along the rim of the glass. "I’m not that famous."
He leaned his elbows on the bar. "Well, you’re here. That counts for something. You were on the screen in my living room last week, and now you’re sipping lemonade in front of me. Feels a little unreal."
"I don’t feel like a celebrity here," you said, voice quieter now. "Honestly, I feel more like… a ghost. Just passing through a life I used to know."
Felix tilted his head, studying you. "Why would you say that? This is your hometown."
You looked down. The drink was cold against your palm. "Doesn’t feel like it. Not anymore."
There was a pause. He seemed to sense where your thoughts had drifted. "Things are not good with Chan?"
You nodded slightly. "He probably sees me as the villain in his story. And maybe he’s right. I left and didn’t look back."
Felix let out a quiet breath, his voice low, thoughtful. "He never said much after you left. Not even to me. Which was weird, you know? He’s never been the open book type, but with you, he used to talk about everything."
You swallowed, eyes fixed on the soft swirl of lemon pulp in your glass.
"At first I thought he needed time. But months went by, then years. Everytime I brought you up, he shut down. He never got angry, just… distant." That hurt more than you'd expected. "When your film won that award," Felix continued, softer now, "we planned a little watch party. He stayed in his room. Said he had a headache. But I knew what it was.” 
Your throat tightened.
“He moved on after you left,” Felix said gently. “Met Grace not long after. I think he was happy, at least for a while. And then Yuna came along… She changed everything.”
You looked at him, curious. “Changed how?”
“I don’t know,” he said, thinking aloud. “Something in him softened. Like… a part of him that had shut down lit up again. She brought out something better in him.”
You nodded slowly, the words sitting heavy on your chest. “I was just wondering… about Yuna’s mom. I haven’t seen her around. Is she… sorry if it’s too personal but is she not in the picture?”
Felix gave you a puzzled look. “You mean Grace?”
You nodded.
“She doesn’t live here anymore,” he said plainly. “She and Chan split up when Yuna was two.”
The words landed like a cold wave. “Wait… what?”
“They divorced a while ago,” Felix repeated, watching your reaction. “You didn’t know?”
You stared at him, caught completely off guard. “No. He never mentioned it. I thought they were still together. He always talked like she was still… there.”
Felix leaned back, shaking his head a little. “Yeah. That sounds like him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Keeping things vague. Saying just enough to stop you from asking more. Not lying, exactly. Just... never fully letting you in.”
You were quiet for a moment, trying to piece it together.
“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t he tell me something like that?”
Felix looked at you with a soft shrug. “I don’t know. But maybe you should ask him.”
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You and Ara were curled up on the couch, half-watching some old movie that neither of you had picked, your attention split between the screen and your phone. Your team kept messaging, asking if you could come back earlier than planned. You were mid-email, fingers tapping quickly, when a notification lit up your screen from an unknown number.
Unknown: hey… so, I was thinking… Unknown: dinner? Unknown: it’s chan. your sister gave me your number.
You sat up so suddenly that Ara nearly toppled over.
“Jesus,” she muttered, adjusting the blanket. “What’s with you?”
“You gave my number to Chan?” you asked, phone still in your hand, thumb frozen over the screen.
She didn’t answer right away. Just grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels with exaggerated nonchalance. “Maybe.”
“Ara,” you groaned, chucking a pillow at her. She caught it, laughing.
“What does he want?”
“He invited me to dinner.”
Ara blinked, then grinned. “Oh, you’re going.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“You will. And you’re going to let me pick your outfit because we both know you’ll overthink it and ruin everything.”
You didn’t fight her on it.
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Almost an hour later, you stood in front of the mirror in a white dress with long sleeves and soft fabric that moved when you did. It wasn’t too much, but it wasn’t casual either. Ara had done your makeup with the kind of focus she used to reserve for school projects. Now, she knew exactly how to bring out your eyes without making it obvious.
It was cool out. Not cold, just the kind of evening that made you want to walk slow. Chan’s house wasn’t far, so you walked. Your heels clicked against the stone pavement, steady and unsure at the same time. You carried a bottle of wine, partly for politeness and partly so you’d have something to do with your hands.
You still didn’t know why he’d invited you. Or why it had taken him this long.
When he opened the door, he looked like he hadn’t fully prepared for the sight of you. His eyes widened for a second barely, but enough. He muttered something under his breath, and you were almost sure it was a curse.
You smiled and lifted the wine. “Figured dinner deserved a bottle.”
He blinked, then opened the door wider. “Yeah. Um… come in.”
His voice was steady, but his hand rubbed the back of his neck like he didn’t know what to do with it.
The house smelled warm. Something savory, something citrusy. You caught a glimpse of the dining table, neatly set with mismatched napkins and a small ceramic dish in the middle that might’ve been a candle holder.
“Wow,” you said, glancing around. “It smells amazing.”
He glanced toward the kitchen, then back at you. “Didn’t know what you liked, so… I kind of made a bit of everything.”
“You cooked?”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m cautiously impressed.” That pulled a laugh from him, soft and quiet, and some of the tension left his shoulders.
“There’s salmon, rice, veggies. But if it’s all terrible, I’ve got frozen pizza.”
You leaned a little over the counter, peeking into the kitchen. “No takeout boxes in sight. I’m already impressed.”
He busied himself with the plates. You stood there, taking in the quiet. The absence of Yuna made the house feel too still, like something was missing from the background noise.
“She’s at your mom’s?” you asked.
He nodded without looking at you. “Yeah. She’s spending the night. Trampoline, no bedtime. Hard to compete with that.”
You leaned against the counter, fingers brushing the edge. “So… it’s just us.”
That made him pause. His eyes found yours, serious for a breath. “Is that okay?”
You smiled, small but real. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
You both sat down, and he poured the wine you brought. Conversation came easy at first. He told you about his trip to California, how Yuna wouldn’t stop asking about dolphins, how she made him bury her feet in the sand and then cried when she couldn’t get out. He smiled more than you remembered. He told you everything in the singular. I took her. I watched her. I showed her. No we, no us. Not once did he mention Grace.
It felt strange how easy it was to be across from him again. Like time hadn’t passed the way you knew it had. Eight years, and somehow this felt familiar. Not effortless, but steady. Like muscle memory. He laughed, really laughed, head tipped back, hand brushing his chest like the memory you shared had winded him. You sipped your wine to hide the smile tugging at your mouth, but it was too late. He caught it.
Your first film. That ridiculous mistake you made on set that went viral for all the wrong reasons. You hadn’t thought about it in years, but tonight, it lived again between you, and suddenly it wasn’t embarrassing anymore. Just a piece of something you once shared.
His cheeks were pink, the tip of his nose a little flushed. He watched you closely, not in a way that asked for anything, just… present. Listening. Noticing how the red on your lips curved when you smiled or how your voice dipped when you told the punchline.
The food was good. Really good. But it was everything around it that made it feel like more. The quiet between topics wasn’t awkward. The candle flickering beside the wine glasses didn’t feel like it was trying too hard. You didn’t have to pretend. There was a stillness in the air that made you want to hold your breath. A fragile kind of peace. One you weren’t sure you were allowed to have, but you didn’t want to let go of either.
For a moment, it didn’t matter that the past between you was heavy. That there were too many things left unsaid. Being here, now, with him, something about it felt like the door to another version of your life had opened just a crack. And you were standing in it, unsure if you should step through, or close it quietly before either of you noticed.
Hours after dinner, the Monopoly board was a lost cause, scattered across the living room like the aftermath of something that mattered far too much at the time. Paper bills crumpled, tokens tipped over, cards in places they shouldn’t be. Somewhere along the way, the rules had dissolved with the last half-glass of wine.
You were both barefoot on the floor, legs stretched out in opposite directions, close enough to touch. The carpet was warm, worn in all the right places, and it felt like the kind of night that wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but somehow did.
“I think you cheated,” you murmured, tipping your head back to look at him. Your hair brushed your shoulders. Your legs nudged his.
“I think you’re just a bad loser,” Chan said, eyes half-lidded, a grin pulling at one side of his mouth. His voice was soft. A little too soft. Like it wasn’t really about the game anymore.
The bottle lay near the coffee table, forgotten. So did your phone. So did the rules you’d both tried to keep up until now.
“You’ve always been competitive,” you said, quietly, like a fact you didn’t want to remember but couldn’t forget.
“So were you.” He leaned in, not much, just enough for you to feel the shift in the air. “That’s what made us...” He paused. The word hung between you. “Good,” he finished. “That’s what made us good.”
Your pulse kicked up. You tucked your fingers into the rug beneath you, grounding yourself. “Us.”
“Yeah.” He looked at you like he didn’t know what was more dangerous, what had already happened between you, or what could still happen now. “We were unbeatable. You remember that, don’t you?”
You could’ve said no. You could’ve smiled and changed the subject, reached for your drink, laughed it off. But the way he was looking at you made it impossible.
“I remember,” you said, and your voice came out softer than you meant it to.
A stillness settled between you, different than before. Not awkward, just fragile. Like the pause right before a decision you can’t undo. Chan shifted closer. You could feel the warmth of his body in the few inches that separated yours. He wasn’t smiling now. He was looking at you like he didn’t trust himself to speak first.
You held his gaze.
“Chan...” His name barely escaped your mouth. A warning, or maybe a plea. But he didn’t back away.
“You have no idea,” he said, quiet but certain, “how long I’ve wanted this.”
And you knew he didn’t mean the game. He reached for you, not urgently, just enough to make your breath catch. His fingers brushed your arm, his hand tentative, reverent. His face tilted toward yours, his lips parting just enough.
Then, just as his mouth neared yours, you turned your head.
“Don’t,” you said, and your voice trembled. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
His hand dropped. His expression shifted like glass cracking under pressure.
“Don’t do that,” he said, jaw tight.
“Do what?”
“Pretend I don’t know what this is. Pretend I don’t know what I want.”
You exhaled, still not looking at him. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is for me.”
“No,” you said. “Not when there’s so much between us.”
He pulled back, slow but definite. His face hardened, not anger exactly, but something close. The kind of hurt that doesn’t want to admit it’s hurt.
“Right. Of course. It’s always complicated with you.”
“That’s not fair.”
He let out a dry laugh and leaned back, putting distance between you that wasn’t there a moment ago. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have tried. I don’t know what I was thinking. Must’ve been the wine.”
You stared at him, heart thudding. “Chan…”
But he shook his head, as if brushing the night off his shoulders.
“It was stupid. I should’ve known you’d still be the same.”
Your chest clenched. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. It’s late. You should go.”
He stood before you could say anything else, brushing his hands down the sides of his jeans as if that could smooth over what had just happened. You stayed on the rug, your face flushed, your throat tightening, your heart slamming against your ribs like it was looking for a way out.
But you weren’t drunk enough to let it slide.
“You don’t get to treat me like this. Not after everything. Not after lying to me.”
He didn’t turn around. He walked to the kitchen, picked up the half-empty glasses of wine and stared at them for a second like they might answer for him.
“I didn’t lie,” he said finally, his tone sharper than before.
“Really?” You stood now too, the weight of your words pressing against your chest. “You didn’t lie? You just forgot to mention that you’re divorced?”
Chan laughed, quiet and humorless, as he leaned against the sink. His arms crossed like a shield across his chest.
“I didn’t lie,” he repeated. “I just didn’t tell you something that stopped being your business a long time ago.”
That hit harder than it should’ve. You took a step back like it might soften the blow.
“But trying to kiss me was that part of the honesty too?”
He moved fast. Too fast. And suddenly, he was right in front of you, close enough that you could feel the heat coming off his skin. His eyes burned into yours, not cold, not cruel, just wounded.
“Would it have mattered?” he asked, voice low and rough. “If I’d told you about the divorce on day one, would it have changed anything?”
You hesitated. And maybe that was the worst answer of all. Because you didn’t know. Because no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances, he was still him. Still the person your heart never forgot. So would it have made a difference?
“Stop,” you whispered. The tears were there, climbing up your throat, threatening to spill.
But he wouldn’t let it go. “Just answer me. If you’d known… would you have kissed me? Or was this always going to be a dead end?”
You flinched, your voice barely a breath. “You don’t get to ask me that.”
“Why not?” he snapped, eyes suddenly bright with something deeper than frustration, with hurt. “Why can’t I ask? You act like none of it matters, like we can pretend this is nothing.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Because you made it pretty clear you didn’t feel anything for me anymore.”
You shook your head before the first tear even fell, brushing it away fast like it hadn’t happened. Chan stepped closer, his breath uneven, hair falling across his brow as his eyes searched your face like he was trying to find the part of you that used to be his.
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.”
“No, it’s not.”
His laugh came bitter, tight. He looked away, like the sight of you hurt. Like this moment was too much and not enough at the same time.
“Let’s not do this.”
You swallowed hard, your voice unsteady. “Would it change anything… if I told you what I said back then it wasn’t true? That I didn’t mean it?”
His eyes snapped back to yours, wide and wet. There were tears on the edge, clinging but not falling yet. His jaw worked as he tried to form a response, but nothing came out.
“What are you saying?”
You took a step forward. “Would it have mattered, Chan?”
He blinked, and you could see the war happening behind his eyes, confusion and hope tangled together in something that looked a lot like pain.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your cheek. “What are you saying to me right now?”
You didn’t answer. You just reached for his face with both hands, palms soft against the heat of his skin. He flinched at first, then leaned into your touch like he needed it more than air. His eyes closed and the tears finally slipped free, warm trails down your fingers.
You touched his cheek with your thumb, tracing the line the tear had carved. When his eyes opened again, you saw it, everything he had been trying to hold back. All the grief. All the love. All the waiting. You couldn’t run from it anymore. Not after seeing that look. Not when he was standing in front of you like that, heart wide open and breaking.
“I lied,” you whispered.
It landed between you like a confession and a wound at once.
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♡ taglist: taglist: @strsforjsb @robinnotgood24 @kannaexe @idiotmaterial @iovecb97 @inejghafawifesblog @hash2013 @skzfangirl143 @gncbnahc @stay3096 @starjely @alisonyus @mangalovesanime-blog @hanniebunch @nikatsuuu @downingmorphine @woopdeedoopdeedoop @tsunderelino @lomllino @lisaskz @sadgvddess @skzswife @hissnoopy @lee-knows-cats @lixies-favorite-cookie @hash2013 @11thenightwemet11 @hanadulsetaad @alondra6011 @skinnyjeans-tanktops @ilovvesleepp @hyunetopia @maddy24207 @internetmemeofficial @nebugalaxy
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rosie-posie1313 · 22 days ago
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Max Verstappen Fic Recs
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07/13/2025
Too cold  by @predestinatos
stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.
What happens in Vegas  by @theemporium
too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it’s just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.
Smau
What Happens in Vegas by @pucksandpower
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
the morning after the Las Vegas Grand Prix, you wake up with one new wedding ring and zero clue about what happened … or who your husband is
Married in Vegas by @mastermind123
We might get married in Vegas
Married in Vegas pt 2 by @/mastermind123
We might get married in Vegas
Seven by @/mastermind123
Max Verstappen × FemSchumacher!reader
Love in the Fast lane by @cheriladycl01
Max Verstappen meeting an Actress who has actively been a F1 fan from before the limelight gets invited to the Monza GP after her recent film debut.
Because I liked a boy by @natailiatulls07
Ferrari's media editor and a redbull driver get into a relationship, something that her team are not happy about
Smau
Truth or Dare by @/natailiatulls07
Maybe it isn’t the best idea to do a redbull challenge right after a night out
female!driver!reader
Careful by @hamiltonells
just y/n and max being the main couple of the paddock 
pieces of us by @/hamiltonells
you always wanted to become a mother, now the time has come.
𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 by @lxclerc
you think max dislikes you but as it turns out, it’s the complete opposite.
single mom!reader x max verstappen
Daddy duties  by @masalateaaa
Day in the life of Max as a girl dad!
 3 is a Family! By @/masalateaaa
How Max, his son and you make a perfect family. Single dad Max.
Tangled Up In You by @dilemmaontwolegs
two sides of the same coin by @monzabee
The one where you try to convince yourself that you’re not falling for your teammate, but can’t help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all.
beach read by @/monzabee
The one where you and Max go on a holiday for the first time, and you realize just how much you love ‘Vacation Max’.
#1 supporter by @reqxxyt
birthday cake by @/reqxxyt
Crowning Glory by @nataliawrites
Max Verstappen x Princess of the Netherlands!Reader
Paddock Pass pt.2 by @joelslegalwhre
You‘ve been with Max and the RedBull team for several races now, and the relationship between Max and you has turned into something neither of you would ever give up now.
Instagram au by @formulaa-1
everyone thinks y/n,Ferraris golden girl is dating Charles,Ferraris golden boy... max is tired of it and decides to set the records straight.
no clue by @leclsrc
Max turns into a wordy, smiley mess when he’s around you. Problem is, everyone knows this but the both of you. The Internet does what they can with the tools they have (aka Twitter.)
smau
Long Time Lovers by @libraryofloveletters
Lost But Found by @/libraryofloveletters
even the best of the friends can have falling outs, especially when you’re on opposites side of the track.
smau
Little Traitor by @norrisleclercf1
Wolff!Reader
Little Traitor Masterlist  by @/norrisleclercf1
Wolff!Reader
healing the inner child by @thepersonnamedsam
Baby Pink by @tierneysodegaard
Hollywood by @/tierneysodegaard
The reader is Max's biggest celebrity crush and they meet for the first time at Monaco/Miami GP.
I’d Give It All Up by @lovingperfectionsblog
Y/n and Charles end up in an accident and Max has to face the fear of losing the woman he loves.
hate is a strong word, don’t you think by @alwayschoppedtaco
you’ve never gotten along with max, but that can all change after an action filled day leads to some late night conversation
“Is that my hoodie?” by @danielriccixrdo
𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 by @leclercdreams
Keep away  by @xhopelesslyromanticx
Sneaking around with your brothers biggest rival probably was the worst idea you ever had, especially with everything that happened last year. So as this season started there' was only one question on your mind; could you keep away from one another?
P1 IN YOUR HEART  by @f1version
5 times you told Max his cats were P1 in your heart, and 1 time he did a Grand Slam.
on the outside: instagram au by @simp-and-shift
wolff!reader
that funny feeling by @two-white-butterflies
Max soft-launches his girlfriend. His girlfriend hard-launches him.
Actress!reader
blissful ignorance by @scudevils
max was never short of confidence, he had trust in his ability in the car, he knew he could win, and he did win, the only thing he was never truly confident in getting was you
Two Worlds Collided  by @neymarsangel
Dating the man that beat your Dad’s golden boy to his eighth world championship wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.
teddy bears & blankets by @illicitlimerence-writes
Max Verstappen leclerc!reader
a conversation stuck in your throat by @/illicitlimerence-writes
Fanboy by @/illicitlimerence-writes
Perfect by @/illicitlimerence-writes
Art by @/illicitlimerence-writes
just an incident  by @thatsdemko
Rivalry by @i9messi
Being a pilot of f1, you are competitive by nature, and Max is competitive as well. Fighting with him seems so easy to do, so why stop?
hard launch by @fiftiefive
a tweet asking about which driver is best shipped with you blows up and Max decides to put it to an end
smau
My Girls  by @idkwhatimdoinghere1655
Save A Dance by @/idkwhatimdoinghere1655
Baby Fever  by @/idkwhatimdoinghere1655
Change [Mini Verstappen Series] by @multifandomgirl08
It’s the end of the F1 season. Some things are changing for the Verstappen’s.
Just Pretend by @/multifandomgirl08
It had been a few years since you had seen Max. Since you had left him in Paris.
max, don’t panic by @ferrstappen
maxplaining 2.0 by @/ferrstappen
Luca Verstappen’s first press conference during his karting career. turns out, he even speaks like his dad.
max, the wag (for the third time)  by @/ferrstappen
could you be more obvious? By @/ferrstappen
you show up pregnant for the first race of 2024, just six months after Max won his 3rd WDC.
what are we doing here? By @/ferrstappen
Bags by @sinofwriting
his haven by @holysainz
the rest of the world may see him as mad max but you bring out another side of him
Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter! Reader Headcanons by @bellewintersroe
𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 by @chrisevansonly
smau
Angry Dutch by @mythos-writes
Even though they’re driving partners, they didn’t see eye to eye. But after a crash between the two Red Bull drivers, it could be the end of these two as driving partners…
Secret by @cutielando
in which you’re in love with the enemy
wolff!reader
Little Verstappen  by @hemmingsleclerc
Olivia Verstappen doesn't let her father focus on his post-race interview
Bath Time by @/hemmingsleclerc
Anytime by @chillielo
you have a habit of tugging on people’s shirts to get their attention, but you’re not so sure if max would mind if you did it to him.
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cordatumcape · 4 months ago
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Fire Emblem Romhack Recommendations
Disappointed with no new Fire Emblem in today's direct? Just looking for a new Fire Emblem game to try? If that's the case, allow this post to serve as an introduction to some amazing romhacks to check out!
Dream of Five
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👑🐰 DREAM OF FIVE weaves a tale of intrigue and identity, feat. an ornate and deliberate sense of style, custom story CGs, and downright gorgeous prose to boot! This hack also has a several chapter long route split, with each path having its own distinct gameplay and recruitable characters.
The Morrow's Golden Country
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⛅️🌼 THE MORROW'S GOLDEN COUNTRY has an abundance in quality-of-life improvements, including a reworked support system and durability-based combat skills. A split-army story structure allows the player to get to know a large, loveable cast as its three lords fight for a brighter dawn—where none are left behind.
Cerulean Crescent
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🏝️🌙 CERULEAN CRESCENT provides incredible turn economy management tools, with each playable unit boasting unique skills and self-repairing personal weapons. The setting lends itself towards a distinct, bold story structure as Ellerie fights to claim victory and vengeance, both.
Shackled Power
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👊💥 SHACKLED POWER is perfect for those who want a classic Fire Emblem story that trends its style towards 90s-esque action, with all the explosions to go along with it. This hack also boasts numerous custom-drawn animations and portraits to truly make the player feel like a powerhouse!
Curse of Lagdou
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🍈👿 CURSE OF LAGDOU expands the continent of Magvel's tale through its fast-paced maps and unique non-RNG crit system! Follow this poignant tale of two girls finding their purpose in life—featuring characters both new and old, along with custom-drawn animations and story CG art!
Four Kings
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4️⃣👑 FOUR KINGS tells the story of family: of two brothers, and their respective journeys to become better people. It boasts tight gameplay and full deployment throughout its route split to let the player experiment with a wide variety of units, all with their own personal weapons!
Myrm Emblem
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⚔️🔥 MYRM EMBLEM is a gameplay-focused hack, feat. skills and many quality-of-life improvements with a silly, brief story. Join Shigen, Lyn, and your favorite myrmidons and swordmasters from the FE series—as well as the Kaga Saga games—in an epic adventure to test your skill and fire emblem knowledge.
Drums of War
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🥁🛡️ DRUMS OF WAR tasks its players with conquering tight and challenging enemy formations—and after the dust has settled: the choice on whether to recruit or ransom enemy leaders. Augment your ragtag band with your strongest enemies as you struggle and fight for a place deserving of you.
Dark Lord and the Maiden of Light
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⚔️🌓 DARK LORD & THE MAIDEN OF LIGHT follows a classic FE plot, twisting familiar tropes in fresh ways. Its narrative rewards attention to detail: one must delve deep to uncover and understand the world's true nature. Fans of 3H's Rhea will enjoy Freesia's crusade against the sinister Ahribaal cult.
Embers Entwined
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🪓 🧙‍♂️ EMBERS ENTWINED follows Petra, a princess in exile, and Diego, a mercenary from a mysterious bloodline, as they fight dark forces attempting to reach godhood. Necromancy takes center stage in this explosive tale, as sorcerers race against each other to perfect the art of raising the dead.
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syncaleb · 1 month ago
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a little self indulgent but… since i am a nail extensions connoisseur-> i love thinking about how caleb would help me through it! <3
caleb being your acrylic prince: headcanons
🍎 buttoning your tops (and unbuttoning too)
he’s so focused when he helps you button your blouse in the morning, brows furrowed like he’s solving a world crisis. “hold still, pipsqueak,” he murmurs, trying not to touch your skin too much… but whoops, his fingers linger just a little bit when brushing against your collarbone. he can’t help it, he is touchstarved and you are the only person who helps him feel better hmph!! later? he’ll cheekily whisper, “now i get to unbutton them too, yeah?” dork (you love him)
🍎 opening your soda can
he hears that sad sigh from across the room when you’re staring at the tab. you can open it but you just got your nails done and you dread opening it!!! fret not — he’s already coming over, cracking it open with one thumb, and grinning like a smug golden retriever. “say thank you~” you roll your eyes, and he adds, “nope, not good enough. say ‘caleb, you’re my strong soda-opening hero.’”
🍎 tying your shoelaces
you stand there, foot out, princess-mode activated. he crouches, tying them slow and dramatic, teasing,“didn’t know i was dating royalty. should i curtsy next?” still ties them into cute little bows. always double knots them. always tugs once and says, “there. safe and tight. like me ‘round your pinky.” you can tie your shoelaces of course but caleb… being caleb. shruggie 🤷🏻‍♀️
🍎 helping with jewelry clasps
you hate doing them with acrylics, and he knows it. so he wordlessly takes the necklace from your hand and fastens it behind your neck. he tucks your hair gently aside, kisses the nape of your neck, and says, “there. pretty thing deserves to be adorned.”
🍎 peeling stickers or opening packaging
you just hold out the box with that pouty face. he snorts but takes it. “seriously? this again?” still does it. every. time. even carries a mini pocket knife now just for your convenience. “i’m like your… acrylic support boyfriend.” “yes, you are.” “wait, is that even hot?” “yes, caleb. extremely.”
🍎 typing your phone password when face id fails
he remembers it by heart. he’s memorized the code. doesn’t even ask. just picks up your phone and inputs it like it’s muscle memory. looks at you with a wink. “can’t help it. i’m a genius. and maybe a little obsessed.” little? naur!
🍎 picking off lashes/lens cases/doing gentle tasks
sometimes you just look at him with that “can you help meeee” look, and he sighs so dramatically. but you know he lives for it. he sits you down, cups your face gently, and helps remove the stubborn lash glue or pries open the contact case. all while muttering, “you’re lucky you’re cute. and helpless. and mine.”
🍎 wiping crumbs off your lips ’cause you can’t do it with nails
he sees it. smirks. wipes it off with his thumb and slowly licks it. “what?” he shrugs. “you got croissant on you. i’m just being resourceful.” you scoff at him, “tsk, caleb, i can wipe it off!” “i know honey- but you don’t need to!”
🍎 helping you text when you’re like “babe just type it for me��
he dictates your sass perfectly. “okay, you want the skull emoji or the 😭?” “both.” “got it. also i added ‘lol’ so it doesn’t sound like you’re trying to murder them.” “you get me.” “always do, pips!”
🍎 closing your bracelets or rings or doing your lip gloss
he’ll click your bracelet into place with precision, kiss your wrist after. if you’re struggling with lip gloss? he holds your chin and applies it for you. real serious. like he’s painting the mona lisa. “don’t move. gotta make my girl all kissable.” then smudges your lippie >:3
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storiesfromafan · 5 months ago
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The Jock - Wally x Reader
A/N: @blogblogblog437 had said they wanted more, so I managed came up with another one-shot...😊
Warning/s: fluff, Wally being adorable, possible spelling/grammar mistakes
Previous: Princess
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Wally lived – figure of speech – for football. The brotherhood, the rush, the way his mind would clear when out on the field. Football was the one thing he had done religiously, but it was also part of his death.
Mr Martin had tried to help him through the death aspect of it. Embrace the positives of it. So that’s why Wally did anything football, training or games.
You on the other hand, hardly cared for sports. On the occasion going – when you remembered –  to training or games. But mostly going to see him in those short shorts, and maybe shirtless at training. And those tight pants on game nights, couldn’t forget that. The last few training day's he had opted for no top, and you thanked whoever was listening for that.
To you, he was the stereotypical 80s jock aesthetic. And you didn’t hate it. Not at all. 80s guys were more manly, while the 90s guy were pretty boys. Not to say Wally wasn’t pretty, for he definitely was. But he was just better than those from your era.
You sat in the stadium, just a few rows up on a bench. One leg propped up on the bench, its partner on the floor. You rested your weight on your arm, which hand was on the bench next to you. Through the white framed sunglasses, you watched the living football players on the field, along with a hyperactive Wally, and a few other ghosts.
You were softly laughing at that golden retriever on the field. The way he moved around the living and ghosts, words aggressively falling from his mouth in support and encouragement, though the living couldn’t hear him.  Put a tail on Wally and it would be wagging furiously. And it made you feel joy, happiness. Not to mention the warm fuzzies when he looks up at the seating.
There was a one in three chance he was looking at you, as both Charley and Mr Martin were here. Would have been four, but Rhonda dipped early on. Unable to watch Wally be macho Wally.
You on the other hand, was eating it up. But trying to keep it low key. Until his top came off, gold chain catching in the light as it rested against his skin, then you were sitting up straight. Looking over the top of your sunglasses. It felt like your jaw was on the ground, by how agape your mouth was.
“You better close that mouth...unless you want to catch flies" called Charley in amusement, sitting a couple more rows up above you.
You closed your mouth, and swallowed the lump in your throat. You could hear Charley laugh, as he went back to writing whatever he was in that notebook of his.
You could feel your face warm up. And with it possibly a pink tinge to your cheeks. Rising to your feet, you straightened your hounds tooth shorts, before grabbing your jacket and moving down the stairs.
You had just stepped onto the ground, when a football came bouncing and rolling over by your feet.
“A little help!” Wally called from the field, a smirk on his face.
You looked to him, noting he had thrown the ball over to you on purpose. And you knew it was to stop you leaving. Which meant he had been keeping an eye on you.
With a dramatic huff, you hung your jacket over the railing behind you. Casually you moved over to the ball, pointing down at it. Which Wally laughed and nodded his head.
Nodding your head, you picked it up. “Take it, it got away from you?” You called back.
His laughter got louder. “Yeah, something like that...throw it back?” And he held up his hands, ready to catch it.
You laughed. “I’m not good at throwing...”
Now it was Wally who dramatically sighed. “You can’t be that bad!”
I laughed. “Oh, I’m pretty bad" you stated, clutching the ball in your fingertips.
“You have to hold it firmly, not like that" he chuckled.
You placed your palms to the ball, feeling it against your skin. Looking back to Wally, who was making gestures to him. Which was to encourage you to throw the ball.
Taking the football in one hand, you drew back that arm before throwing, releasing the ball. Which flew in the air, and fell way too short for either of your liking. It landed just over half way between you both.
Wally blinked, before shooting you that bright smile as he jogged over to the ball. All you could do was enjoy the sight of his naked chest. He scooped it up before continuing to jog over to you. Completely surprising you.
“You weren’t lying about not being that good at throwing" he chuckled.
You looked away, flustered by his playful words. Not to mention seeing his chest and that gold chain – that you wanted to hold with a finger and pull him in for a kiss.
“S-shut it" you stuttered.
Wally laughed at how cute you were. His princess was just so adorable, and he was going to teach you how to throw. So holding out the ball in front of you, he slipped around behind you.
“Take the ball” Wally instructed picking up your hand and put the ball in it. “There. Now to prepare for the throw...”
He moved your arm around till he was happy and had you in the right throwing position. The feel of the back of your hand to his palm, it made his heart beat faster.
You on the other hand, were holding your breath – even if ghosts don’t technically breath. The feel of his hand on yours, his chest brushing your back. Your heart skipped a beat when he did step closer, finally pressed against you as he moved your arm further back.
“Now...we throw!” Wally said in a husky voice, it bringing a chill down your spine.
With those words, Wally moved your hand forward, enough momentum. It was really all him, just using your hand and arm like a holder. As your arm came forward you managed to release the ball. It flew off to the field, almost to where Wally had been standing.
You blinked and then beamed, forgetting Wally was pressed up against you and still holding your hand.
“Oh my gosh!” You gushed. “I-I did it!”
Wally laughed. “With my help Princess".
That was the moment you realised how close the two of you were, and his hold. You felt your face warm up, no doubt a pink tinged to your cheeks again. And after a moment did Wally catch on to, for he quickly released your hand, and stepped back from you with a cough. His face warming up too.
“Princess?” Came a laughing voice from the stairs to the stadium seating.
You and Wally turned, to see Charley making his way down to you both. Having had his fill of writing for the moment. His question had you both blushing harder.
Wally rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah...”
Charley looked between you both. “You’re calling her Princess now? Thought that was a name you call her when talking to Rhonda and me?” He sounded surprised.
You both went red. Like bright red. You looked away, finding the players training on the field more interesting. Wally scratched his head, awkward smile on his cute face.
“Ah...w-well” – clears his throat – “I-I’m calling her Princess now...” Wally responded awkwardly, a little all over the place.
“Oh, so she’s Princess now, huh?” Rhonda asked walking over, lollipop in hand. “Quite the development”.
Wally looked between both his friends, floundering. His eyes wide, sputtering noises. You on the other hand, were biting your bottom lip, trying to act like you weren’t there.
Rhonda walked past you, bumping you quite harshly, resulting with you falling into Wally. Who didn’t hesitate to catch you.
“Come on Charley, we’re needed else where" smirked Rhonda, dragging off the other male.
Your back was pressed to Wally's chest, his arms around you. You could smell the faint smell of what would have been his aftershave. And for Wally, he could smell the flowery, citrus perfume you once bathed in.
“Got you Princess" Wally whispered in your ear. His breath tickling your ear.
A shiver ran down your spine, which Wally felt. He held you closer, concerned for you.
“You alright Princess?” His concerned voice melting your heart.
You nodded. “Ah, y-yeah...” you sighed. Heart beating rapidly in your chest.
Wally chuckled, his nerves wearing off hearing the stutter in your voice. He moved you to stand up straight, turning you to face him. The warm, sweet smile on his face just making you melt more. Those gorgeous eyes of his looking over your face, before stopping at the side of your face.
Shakily Wally brought up his hand and pushed back your hair behind your ear. His smile growing wider at his handy work.
“Much better, can’t hide that pretty face, Princess" his said with that sweet voice, and shooting you a wink.
A blush crossed your face, that strong girly pop - Rhonda's words – could easily become a puddle of goo for this guy.
You swallowed, for the Princess was falling hopelessly for the jock.
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justarkive · 4 months ago
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The Jeons | 12
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12 : Mission… accomplished?
summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.
contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics + smut sometimes!
• chapter contents: inspired by that one scene in despicable me (iykyk) !! fluff + humour!! jk slips and eats shit on the floor LOL , hana being clueless, idk not much else
• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights @reallygenerouskoala @mimi1097 @aznstoner @jungshaking @pinkpunkdynamite (cmnt to be added)
masterlist, series masterlist
It’s quiet. Too quiet.
Hana’s in the middle of the living room, doodling on her little pink drawing tablet, and you’re mindlessly scrolling through your phone, enjoying the peaceful lull of the afternoon.
Then, out of nowhere—
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP
Jungkook bursts in, slipping on the hardwood floor like a cartoon character, arms flailing, barely catching himself before completely eating shit. He’s soaking wet, still covered in soap suds, wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs that are sticking to him like a second skin.
You blink.
Hana blinks.
Jungkook, completely ignoring your judgmental stare, frantically whispers, “Baby. We have NO TIME. CLOSE THE CURTAINS.”
You stare harder. “Did you forget your clothes, or is soap just… the new look?”
Hana tilts her head innocently. “Dada? Why wet?”
“No time, princess—JUST CLOSE THE CURTAINS.”
You don’t move. “Jeon Jungkook. What have you done?”
Before he can answer, there’s a loud knock at the door.
Jungkook damn near shrieks, grabbing your arm and dragging you behind the sofa with him. You barely have time to yelp before you find yourself squished next to your soap-slathered husband, watching as your poor, unsuspecting toddler is left standing alone in the middle of the room, clutching her stuffed bunny.
Jungkook whisper-shouts, “HANA, BABY—TELL THE MAN MAMA AND DADA ARE NOT HOME.”
Hana turns toward the door, then back to her father, tilting her head. “But Mama and Dada here?”
Jungkook grimaces, whispering so intensely it might as well be a stage performance, “GOD, HANA, JUST—” He stops himself, inhaling sharply before softening his tone. “Princess, please, open the door and tell him we’re not home, okay?”
You’re actively biting your lip to hold back a laugh, watching as Jungkook—this grown-ass man—crouches behind the couch, soap suds still clinging to his skin like a freshly bathed Golden Retriever.
You whisper, “Can’t we just… not answer?”
Jungkook deadpans. “HE’LL BREAK THE DAMN DOOR.”
Hana, sighing heavily as if she is the one dealing with a crisis, waddles to the door and opens it just a crack.
There stands the bane of Jungkook’s existence—his old colleague, the overly enthusiastic, slightly unhinged, never-knows-when-to-leave Seungmin.
Seungmin, all chunky and towering over your little girl, grins down at her. “Hey, kiddo! Where’s your dad?”
Hana, clutching her teddy for emotional support, peeks over her shoulder at Jungkook, who’s hiding in the shadows, frantically mouthing something and doing wild hand movements.
Unfortunately, Hana—being a toddler and, well, Hana—completely misinterprets it.
She nods very seriously and looks up at Seungmin. “Dada say he… went to the farm.”
Your eyes widen. Jungkook looks horrified.
Seungmin blinks. “The farm?”
Hana nods aggressively. “Yes. Dada say he go milk the…cow.”
You choke on air. Jungkook is wildly shaking his head, but Hana—committed to the bit—squints at him for further instructions.
Jungkook, panicking, mouths NOT HOME while pressing his palms together like he’s praying.
Hana furrows her brows, squinting hard, then turns back to Seungmin. “Dada say… he… sleeping. With da cow?”
Seungmin raises a brow. “He’s sleeping… with the cow?”
Jungkook dies a little.
You’re vibrating trying to hold in your laughter.
Seungmin, now skeptical, crosses his arms. “Alright, kid. If he’s not home, then I’ll just come inside and wait.”
Jungkook panics.
Before you can stop him, he BOLTS to the door—
SLIPS—
EATS SHIT ON THE FLOOR—
You GASP.
Hana GASPS.
Seungmin looks mortified.
But Jungkook is up in an instant, scrambling to his feet, WET and FROTHING, and—
SLAMS THE DOOR SHUT.
Complete silence.
You’re just staring at him. Hana is just staring at him.
And Jungkook, completely breathless, soaking wet, covered in remnants of bubbles, hands on his knees, just mutters, “Mission… accomplished.”
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moonstruckme · 2 years ago
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Hi love, can you write a james x reader fic where james is having a bad day or smtg and went to the shower and reader follows him afterwards knowing that he needed the comfort. Just two person showering together, intimate, innocent and fluff.
Thanks for requesting!
cw: non-sexual nudity
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 659 words
Steam rushes to warm you as you pull the curtain aside, stepping into the tub behind your boyfriend. 
“Angel?” he turns around, suds already in his hair and creeping down his neck to his shoulders. He always uses too much shampoo; if it weren’t the least expensive thing in your shower, you’d give him a harder time for it. “You shouldn’t get your hair wet, you just washed it yesterday.” 
“I don’t care,” you say, though you do a bit. Just not nearly as much as you care about him.
You wrap your arms around his slippery shoulders, giving him the hug he’d rushed on his way in the door. James is good at comforting people. He’s had plenty of practice at it over his life, but not much practice being comforted. He doesn’t know how to ask for help when he’s upset. You suspect he secretly thinks that support is something he’s predestined to give but not receive. 
His hands settle on the small of your back automatically and he places his chin atop your head. “It wasn’t that bad.” 
You hum. “It was enough to make you sad.” Water runs in rivulets from his head to yours and drips off your chin. “That’s not nothing.” 
James doesn’t reply, but you can feel his ribs expand and contract in a big breath. The dull ache that had begun forming in your chest when he’d walked the door throbs in protest. 
“Want me to wash your hair?” you ask him.
There’s a brief pause, and then you can hear the barest hint of a smile in his voice. “You gonna need me to sit down for that?” 
You shy. “You don’t have to—” 
“No.” He backs up, squeezing your upper arms fondly. “That sounds nice, sweetheart, thank you.” He moves just out of the spray and folds his legs under him, a surety about his movements—even on the slippery bottom of the tub—that you envy.
“Don’t thank me yet,” you tease. “Let me know if I catch a tangle or anything, okay?” 
“Mhm.” He closes his eyes as you tunnel your fingers into his hair, one big hand reaching back to the closest thing he can reach—your foot. If he weren’t having a hard day, you’d have to shriek and shake him off, but for now you try to take it as the affectionate gesture he intends. 
You start at the nape of his neck, fanning out your fingers and pressing the tips gently into his scalp. James’ hair is deceptively soft, not fluffy but velvety, each strand thick and smooth under your touch. He’s had it cut recently, so even weighted down with the water and shampoo it curls just above his ears. You scratch your nails lightly over his scalp, and James sighs, leaning into your touch. 
“Really giving me the princess treatment, huh?” 
“You’d make a great princess,” you say, bending over him to press a light kiss between his brows. 
His eyes open, water clumping his lashes, and he smiles at you. That ache in your chest retreats slightly, warmth filling in the gaps. “M’not complaining.” 
You return his smile, though perhaps yours is a bit smaller. “Want to talk about it?” you ask lightly, your shampoo-slick hands migrating south to massage his neck and shoulders. 
James groans, rolling his big shoulders and closing his eyes again. “Not really. This is so much better.”
You grin even though he can’t see, working your thumbs into the twin muscles on either side of his neck. Bubbles spread across his tawny skin and run down his back in clusters, disappearing down the drain.
“Okay,” you promise him. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I put some of the good hot chocolate to simmer on the stove just in case.” 
This time his smile comes like a slow sunrise, spreading across his face golden and beautiful. “Angel, you’ve read my mind.”
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frost-queen · 2 months ago
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Forcefield // part 7 (Reader!Snow x Finnick Odair)
Tag:@harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @sweetheartlizzie07, @bellarkeselection, @shines-in-the-night, @cantbecreative, @mrsnms, @laylamarie222, @herbal-tea-and-manga, @volcanicwavecascade, @quantumorquanta , @asgards-princess-of-mischief
Summary: The arena doesn't sleep as the victors have to deal with another torment. Losing a friend in the process. After a lot of effort they are able to break through the forcefield. Yet when they are rescued, Finnick is met up with a another emptyness. [series]
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Music filled the arena. Blasted from speaker all around. Reminding the victors once more there was no way out. The arena perhaps their final sight before the light would dim in their eyes. High up in the sky, fallen victors were presented with their districts underneath it. Peeta lowering his gaze from it. The others watching for those who had not survived the night. Katniss glanced down to Peeta, seeing him snap a twig in two.
Clearly bothered by the announcements. Young people having lost their lives all for the good of sports.  Katniss swallowed softly, debating whether she should do something or not. A gesture lingering in her mind. Seeing him toss the snapped twig in front of him, made her decision final. She reached out to him. Taking his hand, letting it rest on his knee. Peeta’s gaze went up to her with a slight surprise in his eyes. Unsure what to say in times like these, she simply smiled at him.
Peeta smiled back at her for it was more than enough. He didn’t need big words from Katniss, knowing she would struggle with it. Her presence was more than enough. The announcements ended as Katniss let go of his hand. Rubbing her hands awkwardly up her legs. – “Get some sleep.” – Finnick said. Turning his head to Mags. – “You too Mags.” – he made clear that she should rest. Mags moved a soothing hand to his cheek.
Curling up a cheeky smile, patting his cheek gently. It brought a smile upon his lips. Mags laid herself comfortably down. Peeta waited for Katniss’s permission to rest. Haven given him a nod, so he did. Katniss and Finnick staid awake. Staring at the fire. Accompanied by the woodland’s sounds. Wind rustling through the leaves. The distant crashing of waves against rock. Soft chirping above their heads.
Katniss felt herself doze off. Finding it hard to keep her eyes open whilst staring at the fires. Finnick noticed it, decided to remain quiet. For if he commented on it, she would surely stay the more awake. She needed the rest. She could use the rest. So to not interfere with her, he remained silent.
Twirling a cord around his fingers, unravelling it and back again. Keeping himself busy with the mindless gesture. Glancing upwards across the fires, he saw that Katniss had closed her eyes. Knuckles supporting her chin, elbows on her knees. Finnick smiled with a soft breath. With all asleep, the silence became more aware to him. Allowing his thoughts to be set free and haunt him.
Trying to process everything that had occurred this day. From entering the arena to this very moment. Exhaling soft, his gaze lowered thoughtfully. Taking a deep breath, he moved a hand to his mouth. Pausing as he slowly moved his hand away.
Gaze lowering on the wristband clutched around his wrist.  Letting his fingers touch the golden bracelet, he was reminded of the alliance in the shadows. Moving his fingers up, he stuck them underneath his sleeve. Feeling the bit of paper on his touch.
Squeezing it between his finger, he slipped it out. Opening the note to read once more. Fight the odds. Fight for yourself. In his mind he kept reading it over and over again. Repeating them in a voice he hadn’t heard in a day. A voice that cried for forgiveness the last time he saw her.
Exhaling deep, he moved his elbows to his knees. Note in hand, he pressed both his thumbs against his forehead in despair. Leaving a mess in his head. The sudden feeling of a hand on his shoulder, made him flinch. Startled, turning sharply to the side, nearly throwing a punch for being caught off guard.
Only to realize quick it was Mags, making him lower his hands. – “You should be asleep.” – he pointed out, staring at the fires. Mags pointed at the note still in his hands. Finnick swallowed hard, crumbling the paper together in his palm. – “This is nothing.” – he told her. Mags raised her eyebrows at him, knowing he was telling a different story. – “She’s just a girl.” – Finnick let out, looking away. Mags moved so she could come and sit before him. Feeling the warmth of the fire on her back.
Reaching her hand out, she pressed it against his chest. Shaking her head, she didn’t agree. She then moved her hands to his, clamping them around his fist. Giving it a good shake with a present nod. Letting go of him, she returned back to her place at his side. Lying herself back down. Finnick watched her lay down.
Blinking rapidly at the realization. He quickly unclenched his hand. Laying the note down on his knee to flatten out. Rubbing it swiftly to remove the wrinkles. Wrinkles he regretted making. Staring at the half crumbled note now, he sighed deep, lowering his head. Mags smiled with a nod, before laying her head back down.
Finnick felt himself doze off after a while. Needing to do a lot of effort to keep himself awake. The fire having died out. He hadn’t paid much attention to it to keep it going. Blinking a few times rapidly, he stared into the distance. Hearing a faint sizzling sound.
Blinking deliberately and slow, he hoped to awake more. Getting up as the sizzling sound was still present. Eyes narrowing to focus on something deep into the woods. Eyes widening at the thick smoke appearing from between the trees. Cloaking everything in their path with fog.
“Up! Get up!” – Finnick called out in alarm. Katniss was the first one to snap awake. – “Up! We’ve got to go!” – Finnick kept shouting, going over to Mags. Trying to wake her. Katniss looked behind her, seeing the approaching thick smoke. – “Peeta!” – she called out, shaking him awake.
Peeta woke up with a loud gasp. – “Run! We’ve got to run!” – she said loud, helping him up his feet by his arm. Finnick was still trying to wake Mags, but she was vast asleep. Katniss looked back at Finnick, wondering what he would do. Probably leave her behind. She blinking surprised when Finnick knelt down and helped Mags on his back.
“What are you waiting for, run!” – he shouted at her. Peeta tugged at Katniss’s arm, telling her to go. Peeta and Katniss started to run from the approaching smoke. Finnick following with Mags on his back. Huffing and puffing loud with the environment on his tail.
The fog was coming in rapidly. Peeta briefly paused seeing the fog come from the side as well. Katniss came to his aid, shoving him aside as the fog nearly reached him. Her hand came in contact with the fog. Making her scream out in pain.
"The fog! The fog is poisonous.” – she screamed out. Finnick had caught up with them. – “There!” – he pointed out at a gap between the gathering smoke. Katniss and Peeta following. Panting loud with the poisonous fog slowly embracing them.
With Mags on his back, he was slowing down. Screaming when the fog came in contact with his body. Leaving blisters of burning pain behind. Finnick tried to push forwards, needing to work with the rough terrain and Mags on his back.
His foot knocked against a log, making him fall. Biting off the pain as he crawled to Mags. Shaking her awake. – “Mags! Mags get up! Get up!” – shouting at her. Mags got up with his help. The poison stinging like hell. He took her hand tightly, taking a run for it. He tried to go as fast as he could, but he knew he needed to be considerate of Mags too. She wasn’t as fast as she used to be. Fog coming closer from all sides.
Seeing a small gap, he forced her to follow him. Katniss and Peeta up ahead, going through the gap as well. Mags was slowing, unable to keep up with him. Finnick was panting. Kneeling down, patting his back. – “Get on Mags, I’ll carry you!” – he let out pantingly.
Mags shook her head. – “Mags come on! Get on!” – he urged her, taking her hand and throwing it over his shoulder. Mags pulled her hand back, still shaking her head. She lowered herself, cupping his cheeks. Finnick slightly shook his head, aware of what she was doing. Saying goodbye.
She pressed her lips onto his forehead. Letting go and turning around. – “No! Mags!” – Finnick called out. Katniss having returned, holding him back by his arm. Mags turned around one last time, smiling grateful back at him. – “Mags!” – he screamed out, fighting against Katniss’s restraints.
Watching how she got submerged into the fog. A few moments later a canon sound went off. Making his heart sunk to the ground. If it wasn’t for Katniss, pulling him with her, he surely would’ve been pinned to the ground. Unable to move and meet the same faith as her. A faith she had chosen.
Heartbroken he was forced to follow Katniss. For he needed to fight the odds. Fight for himself. Struggling to keep his feet in movement, he let Katniss guide him. Guide him till they stumbled down from exhaustion and pain themselves. Both crawling back with panic in their eyes. The fog slithering closer. Trying to go quicker, coming to a sudden stop as they witnessed the fog bumping against an invisible wall and crawl upwards.
Making them both blink surprised and drop down with exhaustion at their nearly death experience. Peeta approached, kneeling down to wrap his arms around Katniss with a relieved sigh. Peeta then helped Finnick up his feet, giving him a comforting pat on his chest. Finnick nodded teary back, trying to drown his own tears.
Together they stumbled out of the forest onto the beach. Falling into the sea as their burns are eased with the salty water. Making them dip themselves under with it. Soon they met up with Beetee and Wireless. Trying to make sense of the arena and for a way to survive. The capitol watching with much interests. Laughing and betting their way away at those who would survive in the end.
All caught up with their own and forgetting about the brutality of the bloodsport. The arena becoming more brutal with each hour. Victors getting more desperate by each fleeting moment. Taking each chance to get a way out. Having come up with a plan to break through the forcefield over the arena. Katniss taking her aim at is just as lighting was about to strike.
Sending the forcefield evaporating. Katniss laying in a crisping field. Blinking hazily as fire burned around her. Looking upon the skies to a descending craft. Scooping her up from the ground and bring her inside. Finnick was the first one to awake. Getting up and hurrying over to the front.
Moving right past Beetee and Katniss. Stumbling he entered the room. Eyes meeting up with Haymitch and Plutarch. Finnick panted loud, looking frantically around before stumbling over to Haymitch. Grabbing him by his shirt. – “Y….Y/n… where is she? Did you get her?” – he asked desperately.
Haymitch took his hand, releasing his grip from his shirt. Giving him a look that spoke a thousand words. Finnick stumbled back, setting his hand on the table for balance. – “I’m sorry kid…” – Haymitch said. – “I couldn’t get her out… the capitol still has her… and Peeta.”
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saphronethaleph · 1 month ago
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Life Support Issues
“All right, so… where do you have the plans?” the Rebel technician asked. “An R2 unit like this could have a hundred hiding places.”
R2 beeped and whistled.
“Ah, I see,” Threepio said. “Yes, Artoo has reminded me that in fact the plans are not only in a data card, but also redundantly stored inside his own system – that’s how he was able to access the systems so readily. He will be able to transfer them quite readily through a standard data access port.”
“We can get that set up, sure,” the tech agreed, gesturing, and his assistant brought over a cable.
As he did, though, Threepio looked with interest at his old friend and counterpart.
“Were you supposed to do that?” he asked.
R2 beeped again.
“Yes, I suppose it is a good thing that you did, but I’m asking if you were supposed to,” Threepio replied. “Don’t try and play semantics with me, Artoo.”
R2 provided a long string of bleeps and whistles, and C-3PO stepped back.
“You did?” he asked. “Oh my… well, I suppose I did ask you to do that first one.”
“Do what?” the tech asked, halfway through plugging in the cable.
“Well, we were on the Death Star,” C-3PO replied. “And while rescuing Princess Leia, Master Luke and their friends, I had Artoo shut down all the garbage compactors on the Death Star, and then open the door to the one that they were in. Artoo has informed he that, in fact, he opened all the entrances shortly before we left.”
He made a displeased noise. “In addition, he flushed all the drinkable water into the black water systems, raised the temperature in the food storage areas to two hundred and fourteen degrees centigrade, and sealed the doors to every lavatory on the ship. I am also reliably informed that the artificial gravity generators have been independently set to what he calls ‘shuffle’ and that the plumbing system on the Death Star is comprehensive enough to permit him to transport fluids randomly around the entire plumbing system through a series of several thousand distributed commands which trigger on and off at random, at times ranging from five minutes to three days.”
A pause.
“Also, that reversing the gravity in the shuttle and vehicle maintenance bays produced a quite satisfying crunching sound of valuable equipment breaking. Artoo, did you really have to do all of that?”
R2 whistled, helpfully.
“Yes, I suppose they did blow up Alderaan,” Threepio admitted. “I’m just worried that at this point we might be committing war crimes ourselves.”
“This is becoming ridiculous,” Tarkin said, as blaster fire crackled up and down the corridor. “Half the ship is fighting itself and the other half is trying desperately to find a fresher.”
The firing intensified outside, then Darth Vader loomed imperiously out of the door and the various factions went from exchanging fire to fleeing.
“Have you found anything about what happened?” the Sith Lord asked, returning his attention to Tarkin. “I could believe one of these failures was accidental, but this is clearly deliberate.”
“It has been a little hard to gather information,” the Grand Moff replied, testily. “Since my analyst team is having to defend their access to a shuttle bay which might have an intact shuttle and the last Star Destroyer to try and render assistance was destroyed by two thousand turbolaser batteries all firing on it at once on automatic. But clearly there has been some sort of unauthorized access.”
“The plans,” Darth Vader said, firmly. “The Princess clearly passed them off to someone. The same group as her rescuers… Kenobi’s team. Kenobi is dead, but the smuggler ship must have had a strike team…”
He trailed off.
“But this is the work of an expert slicer,” he resumed. “A normal commando team couldn’t have done this much damage this quickly.”
“There is a report that one of my analysts found,” Tarkin said. “That a golden protocol droid and a blue-white astromech droid were acting suspiciously near Docking Bay 327.”
“Ah,” Darth Vader said, his tone somewhat different. “That explains everything. In fact, I am suspicious that there must be something we have missed.”
“Vader?” Tarkin asked.
“R2 has left us something else,” Vader answered. “I can feel it.”
Tarkin started giggling.
“...ah,” Vader declared. “There it is.”
“Nitrous oxide?” C-3PO asked. “Really?”
R2 whistled.
“I don’t care if you had to improvise and that it’s easily produced from available life support gases,” C-3PO replied, shaking his head. “Really, R2.”
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slaytheusurper · 1 year ago
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⭑ The dragon and the princess ⭑
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A/N: Deep into my hotd era, so feeding you with daddy daemon
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x niece!reader
Summary: Your name day was celebrated lavishly and after you and your uncle have a heated conversation, you try to get off when you are finally alone in your bedchamber, or so you thought.
Warnings: Targcest, making out, face riding, oral, vaginal and creampie.
Word count: 1.6k
The great hall was hot and filled with the smell of wine and food. The celebrations for your name day as the eldest child of the king were lavish indeed. After a while the last guest, your dear step mother finally arrived. You hated Alicent with a passion after what she did to you but sadly there was nothing you could do to stop it. You were sitting next to your father King Viserys and were presented with endless gifts. 
Then Tyland Lannister came to the table and presented you with a golden chalice inlaid with rubies and sapphires, a handsome gift, at least- more handsome than him. However before you could thank him the doors opened and none other than your uncle Daemon Targaryen walked in. His hair was short now and he looked ravishing in his new clothes. He started walking towards the table where you were sat and patted Tyland on the back before sitting at the far right side of the table with the queen and the hand in between you. “I- uhm… thank you, my lord for this beautiful gift.” You smiled awkwardly, you were not expecting your uncle to be back but your cheeks flushed at the thought of talking to him again.
“It is not as beautiful as you though, princess.” He smiled, and you cringed hard inside as you looked awkwardly at your father. “Oh- thank you my lord, how very kind of you.” You tried to end it there but it seems Lord Tyland was not finished. “Your Grace I was hoping to ask for the princesses hand in marriage, to bond our houses would strengthen the realm and I would provide your daughter with the strength and support she needs.” He suddenly asked, turning to your father. Your mouth fell slightly open at that and you felt the burning stare of your uncle at the other end of the table. 
“I- uhm… thank you lord Tyland but today is not about my daughters marriage, however I will think on the matter.” He dismissed lord Tyland at that. And he seemed to leave like a dog with its tail between its legs. You could hear your uncle snort and roll your eyes at him. Deciding to end the embarrassment and have some fun, like, one might say, riling up your uncle, you decided to head to the dance floor and dance with a handsome lord of house Tyrell. After a couple more dances with lords from Blackwood to Baratheon to Tully and Frey your sweet uncle finally had enough. He knew exactly what you were doing and he was not having it. 
“Might I have a dance princess.” He asked almost coldly, completely ignoring Lord Colin Frey who was enjoying his dance with you a little too much for Daemon's liking. “Of course uncle. Forgive me my lord. Maybe we could resume our conversation later?” You suggested politely. “Yes princess, that would be delightful.” He gave you a small nod and left to go back to his table, to which Daemon immediately grabbed your hand and waist and danced with you through the crowd. “You really don’t need to do all that to catch my attention.” He whispered into your ear. “What? What are you talking about uncle, me dancing with some lords to please my father?” You replied smugly, you knew how to get under his skin, but tonight you finally wanted to get under his clothes. 
“You know well enough what I’m talking about.” He said, but before you could reply with a witty comment, partners switched again and Daemon left the dance floor back to the table. You danced with some lord again and Daemon's eyes never left yours. After a couple of hours of more dancing and feasting the king finally called it a night and you thanked guests for coming. However much to your disappointment your uncle was nowhere to be found. And you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the thought he was laying with another woman right now. Feeling tired and having all of this pent up arousal from Daemon you retreated to your bedchamber. After your handmaidens finally finished changing you into your nightgown, your head at last hit the pillow. 
Thoughts of Daemon's lips near your ear infiltrated your mind and your hand started to wander down your breasts toward your stomach. When you reached your wet folds you started to softly caress yourself, with two fingers rubbing your clit you were eagerly trying to get off. To get Daemon out of your mind. “Fuck uncle- please.” You softly moaned at the fantasies your mind was serving you. But you didn’t really know how to get yourself off and it was starting to frustrate you.
“Please what?” A voice said. You shot up in your bed to see your uncle standing in the middle of your bedchamber. “Uncle- I didn’t-” You tried. “Having some trouble getting yourself off my dear niece.” He smirked as he walked over to your bed. “I wasn’t-” “Don’t try to fight it princess, I know all too well what you were doing. And for who. Thinking about your own uncle while fingering yourself is quite disgraceful don’t you think?” He mocked and started to walk towards you. Tears pricked in your eyes from embarrassment and you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Don’t be upset my love, you just needed to get off, didn't you? Did I make you wet for me? Is that it? Do you need your uncle to fuck you proper?” Daemon said while he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. 
His eyes were full of hunger and lust. You glanced at his hard cock shielded by his pants and looked back up at him. All you could do was nod shamefully, knowing that his words soaked the sheets beneath you. And that was all he needed to plant his lips on yours as he crawled on top of you. “You don’t even know how long I’ve wanted to fucking pound you into this bed, fill you with my seed and watch it drip out of your pretty cunt.” He almost sneered against your lips, you moaned in return, even his words could get you off. “Dirty fucking whore, you love that don’t you? Being my own personal fuck toy.” He said as he kissed you again. Now forcing his tongue in your mouth and his hand kneading your breast. He sucked your tongue and bit your lip, after a while your lips swollen and red and breast sore from his kneading. 
“Please uncle, I need you, I need you to fuck me good.” You begged, you knew that’s what he loved. He started kissing your neck in response and after leaving a nice bruise on your collarbone he ripped off your nightgown and laid you down flatter against the pillows behind you. He kissed and licked down your thighs. Opening your legs to reveal your soaking pussy. He licked a long stripe up your folds and started lapping at your clit, making you moan loudly, you were sure that the whole red keep would hear but the pleasure consumed you and you didn’t care. Daemon grabbed your hips and moved you around with him so you sat on his face instead, you immediately rose, afraid of suffocating him. 
“Wait- what if I hurt you-” You said nervously. “You won’t. Now ride my tongue like the dirty little whore you are.” You shuddered at his command and resumed sitting on his face. You felt his tongue enter your hole and you couldn’t help but move fiercer against him. Chasing that high you so badly wanted. “Please yes-!” You moaned as you moved faster, you could feel the vibrations of his groans on your pussy and after mere moments you were cumming all over his tongue. 
Panting hard he rolled you back underneath him. “Now the real fun begins princess.” He whispered against your neck. He removed his own clothes and revealed his already leaking cock. “You're going to take it aren't you.” He said as he kissed your neck again while wrapping a hand around his cock jerking himself off a bit. “Yes. Please I want it all- I want you inside me please-” You pleaded, you clenched around nothing as he slid his tip through your folds multiple times before he finally entered. “Good girl.” You could only moan his name as he started rutting inside you like a dog in heat. 
“Fuck- take it. Take my fucking cock princess. Oh that tight, fucking, cunt around me feels so good, no one has a better cunt then you princess- fuck.” He ranted against your lips, pounding you into the mattress. The slapping of sweaty skin could be heard loudly across your bedchamber and no doubt outside too. “Please uncle its so fucking good, please fill me with your seed- please- please fill me!” You almost screamed. His cock hitting that spongy spot inside you just right, making you think you were seeing all of the seven gods right now.
After a few more thrusts and his thumb rubbing on your clit and you moaned his name as you came, clawing at his back and toes curling as you felt the most amazing pleasure of your life. The clenching of your pussy around his cock finished Daemon as well. With a couple of final hard thrusts he did as was promised and filled your pussy with his seed. “Fuck- princess, oh that’s it. Good fucking girl.” He groaned. Completely spent he laid next to you and pulled you in his arms. 
“What if we get caught.” You asked, calmed from your high reality was setting in. “What if my father finds us or the queen or the hand.” You started to panic a bit. He kissed the top of your head and said, “Then I’ll cut off any head who tries to stop me from marrying you. We will go to Dragon Stone and I’ll make you my wife. And then I’ll get to fuck you every night.”
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