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#and i can’t tell my friends because they don’t want to hear about it
innerfare · 7 hours
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You’re Jealous
 Summary: You get jealous of another woman in his life.
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid
Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff
CW: None // SFW
——— 
Luffy: He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 
Zoro: He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 
Sanji: Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 
Ace: He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets you you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 
Sabo: Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  
Law: Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 
Kid: He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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spiderbeam · 3 days
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and okay feel free to ignore this one because ive sent a bunch already buttt 🎧+max+7
🎧 — bugambilia by nasa histoires
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Max is nervous. He hadn’t realized it until the bell dinged with his entrance, until you spoke your usual greeting, until your eyes met his and a smile spread over your lips. He’s a three time world champion, an icon of the world of motorsport, a celebrity—and yet he finds himself growing jittery at the sight of you.
Of course you’d be the type to fall for the one person in Europe who doesn’t know your name, Danny had teased.
He’d denied it. He didn’t have feelings for you. He had simply developed a fondness for flowers—and he just happened to like yours most.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon.” You dust your hands on your overalls as you stand up to greet him. You look pretty in overalls, he finds. Prettier even with your hair held up by a bow—alongside that lovely smile that always makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. “Thought you said you were leaving the country for work.”
Max realizes then he’s stayed quiet for too long. “Um, yeah,” he starts awkwardly, hands tucked in his pockets before he takes them out soon after. What do people usually do with their hands? “I did. It was just for the weekend, though.”
“Did you have fun?” you ask, before meeting his gaze with a playful roll of your eyes. “I know, work is work, but…”
“It was fine,” Max clicks his tongue, hoping he doesn’t sound too dismissive. “Not great.”
“Sorry to hear that.” You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can rant a little while I trim these?” You gesture at the newly arrived flowers.
Max chuckles a little. He’s done plenty of ranting. Mostly in front of a camera. “Actually, I was hoping to get to hear you talk about your flowers—maybe give me a hand?”
You straighten as you stand up, nodding. “What’s today’s purchase gonna be?”
“Another gift,” he says, even though he’s ran out of friends to gift bouquets to. Twice is two times too many before they start looking at him weird.
You nod your head, ponytail bobbing. “Alright.” You clasp your hands together, smiling up at him. “Wanna look around for something that catches your eye, or are you in search for anything in particular?”
Max tilts his head at you. “Which are your favorites this week?” He asked you the same question last time, and the time before that. But, as you told him before, you can’t make up your mind—not permanently, anyway. Each time he comes around, you have a different answer prepared for him.
This time, you’re grinning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” And then your hand is in his as you steer him towards the very back of the shop—and Max can feel his breath stuttering. He blinks in rapid succession, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. Jesus Christ, you’re just holding her hand. Pull yourself together.
Finally, you stop beside a shelf with purple and fuchsia flowers with papery petals and tiny light yellow blossoms inside them. Max feels as you let go of him, prompting him to step closer to the flowers. He leans forward, hoping to catch some floral scent like the lilies and jasmines you gave him a few weeks back. He doesn’t smell anything.
“They don’t have a scent,” you tell him. “It’s bugambilia. Bougainvillea. It’s not usually used for bouquets, though, so people rarely buy any. Except for this one woman, Marisol—she says it reminds her of home. But she only takes a few branches, doesn’t really want them as a bouquet.” You’re smiling when he turns back to you. “They don’t grow around here—not naturally, anyway. It’s why I like them.”
“Bougainvillea,” Max repeats, committing the syllables to memory. “So you’ve never had to sell a bouquet of these?”
“Not yet.” You shrug. “It’s under appreciated, in my opinion. I mean—most people just buy roses. Maybe sunflowers.”
He remembers you ranting about that last week. How impersonal is it to give red roses to someone on a date? It’s like giving a gift card. No sentiment whatsoever.
And Max, surprisingly enough, agreed. He believes in personal gestures. Gifts that proof you’ve been listening, that you’ve been paying attention. And as he side-glances at you, he can see your stare still lingering on the purple and pink flowers. He doesn’t need to think it over before he’s saying: “I’ll take it.”
You nod in approval, reaching up to take a few flowers. “I knew you would,” you say proudly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’ve got good taste, Max.”
Max chuckles. “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “I just happen to know someone who does.” He’s looking at you as he says it, scratching his cheek, but he can see your lovely smile falter slightly. His brows pinch together.
You haul your selected bougainvillea onto the counter, with Max trailing close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who buys as many flowers as you do—not that I’m complaining.” You try to sneak a glance at him as you’re tying off his bouquet. Max relishes in the heat that crawls up your cheeks when he catches you.
This is his chance, he realizes. But then he’s running circles again because what if you think he’s creepy? That he’s been buying flowers from you in hopes of finally building up the courage to ask you out? It’s not only creepy, it’s pathetic. It’s been nearly a month since he first met you. It’s taken him a whole month to get to this. Stupid. And since when does he get nervous like this around girls? He’s Max Verstappen.
But you’re you.
“You okay?” you ask, peering at him. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”
“Yeah, sorry. Um, I just—” He means to ask you, he really does, but this one tiny detail doesn’t escape his attention as you leave the flowers on the counter, wrapped in pretty ribbons, ready for him to take home. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “I—I haven’t paid yet.”
Your expression sends butterflies fluttering around his stomach. “Consider it a gift. For keeping me company on a slow day.”
But Max is already pulling out his wallet out of his back pocket. “No, no, I can pay.”
“Max,” you say, voice caught somewhere between soft and stern. “It’s a gift. You don’t pay for gifts.”
He scratches his cheek again, a quirk of his you’ve come to find endearing. “Doesn’t this get taken out of your paycheck?”
You shrug nonchalantly. “No one buys bougainvillea. One of my coworkers would’ve probably ended up throwing them away.”
You’re dodging his question, and Max doesn’t know how to tell you that he can afford it without making it seem like he doesn’t appreciate the gesture.
You seem to decide for him when you grab the bouquet and hand it to him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles, shooting sparks beneath his skin. He should ask you now. You’re smiling like you don’t even know the effect you have on him.
“Your—”
“Would you—” Max clears his throat, pink on his cheeks. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t sound as genuine. “Nothing—just that your girlfriend’s really lucky. I’d kill to have someone buy me as many flowers every week.”
“My—what?” Max blinks once. Twice. Three times before the words finally dislodge from his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, your boyfriend?” you amend, playing with your fingers.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” Max says bluntly. He’s still cradling his bougainvilleas as he watches realization wash over your face.
“Oh.” Heat is climbing up your cheeks, and for the first time all afternoon, you’re the one stumbling over your words. “O-Oh. I just thought that—I mean, since you’ve been coming around so much, and you’re like, handsome, and sweet, so I just assumed—”
“Do you wanna go out some time?” Max interrupts, ears tinted red. There’s a pretty blush spreading his face. A giddy nervousness building up in his gut. “With me, I mean. Do you want to go out with me?”
Your lips curl upward, heat radiating from your face. Max feels flowers growing in his chest. Hydrangeas, carnations, tulips, wisteria. Purple bougainvillea flowers.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
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eve’s 1k celebration 🎧
this one was very loosely based on the song more on the vibes than the actual lyrics so i might revisit this song and make another more angstier drabble in the future….. for now i just recommend giving the song a listen <3 also i’m not used to writing for max AT ALL so hopefully it didn’t feel too ooc
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jo-speaks · 17 hours
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good graces ft. quinn hughes
in which…
quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.
warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.
track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!
When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel
Drawin' hearts 'round our names
And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles
“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.
You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?
He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”
“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”
Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 
After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.
He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”
You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”
Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”
“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.
Don't mistake my nice for naive
“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.
You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”
He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”
“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.
“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.
You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 
You weren’t stupid.
I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys
You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye
Like, ooh
Baby, you say you really like it being mine?
So let me give you some advice
After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.
“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 
Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”
You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”
He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”
Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”
You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”
Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”
“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”
“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.
As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.
“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.
You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.
Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”
You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.
~
“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”
“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.
Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.
You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”
He nodded.
“Then don’t lie to me.”
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
That was cool
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3
Yeah
“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 
“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.
Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 
Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 
He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 
As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 
“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 
Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 
Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 
You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”
His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 
“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 
By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”
I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely
Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 
“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.
He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.
This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.
“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.
You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”
He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”
Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on
With your favorite athlete
Shoot his shot every night
Want you every second, don't need other guys
You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 
Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 
One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 
‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’
“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.
He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”
“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.
Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”
You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.
“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.
His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”
Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 
Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 
You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”
You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 
“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”
You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye
As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.
“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.
He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”
You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 
Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”
You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.
Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.
“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.
You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 
He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”
“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.
But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”
Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.
“And what?” You pressed.
“She wants to try again.”
You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”
He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.
You nodded your head, “Okay.”
“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.
Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.
“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
Oh, no
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 
Oh
No, I won't
I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't
(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2
Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 
The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 
You didn’t need him. 
Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 
The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 
As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.
Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.
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warlocksoup · 1 day
Text
into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu
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volume one, chapter one: emails
word count: 2.1k
masterlist | main masterlist | taglist
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I know about him.
Teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she stares down at her laptop screen. At the same email she’s been staring at for the last three days, ever since she first got the notification for it on her subway ride home. From [email protected]: I know about him. To anyone else, it might not bear the same weight. To her, it’s suffocating.
She’s done everything she can to try and trace it. Everything she can, of course, being Googling the address and enlisting the help of Yachi from the IT department at the Bugle. The outcome of the former being: Your search - [email protected] did not match any documents, and the outcome of the latter being Yachi’s entire laptop getting infected with malware.
So, not great.
She shifts on the stiff stuffing of her couch, legs crossed under her and the heat from the bottom of her laptop on the bare skin of her thighs. I know about him. She hopes it’s a bluff. Realistically, she knows it’s not. But she’s still in the denial stage.
The screen goes dark, and she wiggles her mousepad to brighten it up once more, just so she can stare longer. She can’t tell him. Not yet. Ideally, not ever. But definitely not yet.
“What are you doing?”
She jolts, automatically slamming her laptop shut as she does so and jumping to face the source of the intrusion.
Spider-Man’s in her living room.
Which is fair. It’s his living room too, even if she does pay the lion’s share of the rent.
“Porn,” is her immediate response and the only thing she can think of to justify her reaction, even if it makes her cheeks burn. “Watching porn,” she doubles down, because she has to.
He reaches behind his head and grabs the end of his mask that sits at the back of his neck, pulling it off in one swift movement. Nishinoya looks at her with his hair flattened against his forehead, blond streak brushing against his brow, and a blossoming, deep purple purse spread across his cheek. “In the living room? Well, I guess I am home early, so can’t complain there.”
She pushes her the laptop off to the couch, and stalks towards him, eyes now fixed on the bruise that stains his features. “And what the fuck happened to you?”
Noya grins at her, bright and unfazed. Almost proud, like his injuries are a badge of honor. “Just ran into my good friend Alexei Sytsevich. He was super stoked to see me.”
Her hand shoots out and takes hold of his jaw, lightly squishing the soft flesh of his cheek together as she tilts his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the damage. Noya just stands there and lets her. “Thought that guy was in jail.”
“Broke out,” Noya says, words barely making it out between his smooshed-up lips. She releases him, and steps back. “He loves breaking out of jail. It’s like his favorite thing to do.”
Noya steps back, and retreats into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot as he does so. Still, she can hear his voice coming through their thin, plaster walls. “I don’t even know what that guy’s end game is anymore. I’m pretty sure he just wants me dead. It’s always like, ‘this is your end, Spider!’ when before he was a lot more focused on his personal goals, so.” 
She sighs and collapses back onto the couch again. Freak emails from freak strangers with untraceable email addresses and Sytsevich breaking out of jail for the thousandth-fucking-time to wreck his havoc on Noya’s face. Her hair is going to start turning gray. “You’d think they would’ve built a cell to hold him, by now,” she calls, and Noya is swinging open his bedroom door to saunter back out into living room, suit abandoned in favor of old gym shorts and a vintage looking Godilla t-shirt. “What do you think costs more taxpayer dollars, building a better cell, or paying all those cops to get him back in again?”
Noya rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m the one they call, and they don’t pay me, so.”
That she knows all too well. It’s hard, being a single-income home. Since Noya’s full time job is both incredibly demanding and also unpaid, rent and utilities and groceries mostly fall on her shoulders. Which, it’s not like she can complain or hold it against him. In exchange, he’s the one and only Spider-Man, and she could do worse for roommates.
And he helps when he can, selling candid photos of Spider-Man to the Bugle so they can use them to accompany their hit pieces on him (Noya, of course, finds it incredibly ironic every time they write out a check to him, gleefully paying him for photos of himself).
Noya flicks on the kitchen light, and as he’s lingering in the kitchen, popping open the fridge door with his hip to stare blankly at its contents, she grabs at her laptop once more, opening it back up so she can stare at the email once more. “Do you wanna get a pizza tonight? Some guy gave me a twenty for saving his car from the Rhino’s path.”
“Twenty?” she echoes back, fingers hovering over the reply button. Should she reply? What would she even say? Her Internet safety training at work taught her to never reply to spam emails, just to report it to the system administrator. But looping in the Bugle on an email like this is the last thing she wants. “Seems kinda cheap for saving his entire car.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Noya calls back, closing the fridge. He flicks his wrist in the direction of the living room, and string of white web following it. It attaches itself to the side of a crinkled up, plastic water bottle she was drinking, and before she can blink, the water bottle finds itself in Noya’s hand.
“Dick,” she says, without looking up from her computer. “I was drinking that.”
“Can you look at your porn later? Do you want the pizza or not?”
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
Between them is a half-eaten box of pepperoni pizza, propped open on the fire escape. Noya chews loudly on a slice, his eyes on the city skyline, and hers on him. She watches the bruise on his cheek, and how it moves and shifts with each bite he takes. She reaches out and grazes her thumb against it. He swats her hand away. “Stop it, stop worrying.”
She frowns and slides her hand between her pressed-together knees, like she’s trying to hold it still. “Who the fuck said I’m worried?”
“You’re always worried,” he replies, dusting off the end of his pizza nad leaning up against the closed window behind him. “Every time I come home with so much as a papercut, you’re staring at me like there’s a bullet hole in my chest.”
Her eyes drops, and she looks at the greased-stained cardboard between them. “Well, you have come home with bullet holes before, so.”
He sleeps them off. He wraps up the wound in that fucking webbing of his and he just sleeps it off like it’s a headache or scratch or something most people wouldn’t even go to the doctor for. And then she’ll find dried, rusted bits of that webbing, littered around the house.
“Yeah, and I turned out fine,” he assures her, voice a bit softer now. She looks at him, brown eyes shining and slight grin unwavering. “A bruise isn’t gonna kill me. I don’t want you to waste your energy freaking out over me. You have better things to be freaking out over. I know how horrible your boss is.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t really give a shit about him, to be honest.”
Her fingers fidget, and Noya reaches over, covering both of her hands with his. She looks up at him. “I’ll always take care of us both. Okay? Nothing can happen to me while I’m out there, because I know I gotta come back home and make sure you’re good. That’s my number one priority, and I’m not gonna break that promise. Alright?”
She nods her head. “Yeah, alright. I trust you.”
His grin brightens, and he leans forward to throw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “See, that’s my girl. Complete and total faith in me. I love to see it.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles, but rests her head against his shoulder. It feels nice, in his arms. “I’m really the one who takes care of you, y’know. By like, paying the bills.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Can I borrow ten bucks? I bet Tanaka-“
He stops and straightens out. She peers up at him, at watches as his focus narrows in on something in the distance. By the time she catches up, and she can hear the sirens start to go off in the distance, Nishinoya is gone, leaving a slight breeze against the strands of her hair.
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
On her desk are two rejections.
The first is on Spider-Man, a feature piece that details his symbolic value to the people of New York; how valuable his presence in the community is and just what he represents to the average New Yorker. It theorizes that identity of Spider-Man isn’t what matters, but the meaning of the mask itself. And it has a big, yellow sticky note on it with the word ‘WRONG!’ written out angrily in thick, black marker.
She sighs. She knew that one wasn’t gonna make it past Jameson. Hardly any of her Spider-Man pieces do. Noya told her to just start writing smear pieces on him, just to get more articles published. But she’s not willing to sacrifice her journalistic integrity to write a bunch of bullshit about how her best friend is ‘getting in the way of the NYPD.’
The second is on the recently passed Norman Osborn. Most obituaries have been fluffy love letters to the capitalist, and maybe Jameson was expecting more of that, rather than a scathing dissection of his life, including, but not limited to, his involvement in developing and selling weapons of war. The sticky note on this one reads, ‘what is this commie crap?’ which, in all honesty, she should’ve been expecting.
She sighs and falls back into her chair. She needs a new, better job. At a place that will publish her articles without twisting her words into nonsense propaganda. A place that will pay her properly, and not like it’s nineteen-eighty-five.
There’s only one silver lining to her job, and that’s the blonde-haired girl depositing a hot latte and everything bagel on her desk. “Rejected again?” Yachi asks, pulling up a chair from the empty desk beside her.
“Ugh, apparently billionaire, tax-evading war criminal Norman Osborn was a friend to the masses that needs to be celebrated, and the guy that says innocent lives every day for free is public enemy number one,” she rants at once, snatching that coffee up and immediately gulping it down, ignoring how it burns her tongue on the way down.
“Yeah,” Yachi agrees. “You didn’t know that?”
She rolls her eyes, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. “Shut up.”
Yachi leans back in her chair, and gestures towards the computer screen. “Any more emails from that anonymous guy?”
“No, and thank god for that.”
“It’s so weird,” Yachi notes. “’I know about him,’ is weird, but they’re not threatening you for like, money or information or like any other average email scam. And from what I could see that guy really did not want to be tracked down, and spent a lot of time making sure you couldn’t. And for what? To say something weird.”
Yachi doesn’t know the weight of it. Doesn’t even begin to understand the threat, the implication. Yachi doesn’t even know how the ‘him’ is supposed to be. So she really doesn’t get how disconcerting those facts are. She contemplates, for a moment, slamming her head into the keyboard in front of her.
“Whatever,” she decides ultimately. “I’m just going to ignore it and hopefully absolutely nothing will come of it. It’s how I deal with most of my problems.”
“Oh, what a coincidence, me too,” Yachi laughs, and then stands. “I gotta go. Jameson accidentally downloaded malware onto his computer trying to claim a Target gift card. Have fun rewriting your articles.”
“See you for lunch?” she calls after Yachi’s retreating form.
“Yep!” Yachi confirms with a wave of her hand, disappearing down the line of small, cramped cubicles.
With one, deep, calming breath, she returns her attention to the desktop in front of her. She stretches her neck to the left, and then to the right, and prepares for another day of endless bullshit.
Ding!
YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE.
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taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @seroh @19calicos @w4nyoung @soulfullystarry @chocolains @jaynawayna @baylz @vuntysharck @mollyrolls @boooolame @staileykout @angee444 @kameyyy @choerry-picking @giocriedpower @sunakeiji @sleepzyy @lunasfics @thecoolestlia @yoshit-he-dinosaur @bectoshi @thatonecroc @karasyuu @iatethemochi @itsdragonius @syverse @savemebrazilhinata @localgaytrainwreck @snail-squasher @atzixo @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @dailyakira @kasumiixs @s1ckntw1st3d @noble-17 @atsumuenthusiast @jino0ix @boobilater @keeboismine @scxrcherr @acowboykisser @impatienscush @loverlunaire @oneiratxxia10 @kattiscrying @dazqa @termite-joe @quikhs @cupidsblonde @izukuwus @greninjafan5000 @mplesyrup
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maidragoste · 7 hours
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hey hun! im sorry for your loss and i saw u post abt needing distracting. so could u write a jace x reader? it could be any plot you want whatsoever and could it be a modern au? as well fluffy! is that okay?
Hi, how are you?
Thank you for your message 💖 I'm sorry it took me so long to upload your request (in the end it cost me more than I thought to recover and then university and trying to find a job overwhelmed me) but I hope you like the result 🥰💖
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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It hadn't really been Jacaerys' intention to wait for you to come back from your date. He should be doing some college work but instead, he's watching TV without paying attention to it thinking about how the hours are passing and you still haven't come home. Your date should be fun if you don't text Jace anymore. Jace shouldn't be worried about you because he knew Rhaena would never have set you up with an idiot but he still couldn't help being worried.
Jacaerys wanted you to come home and see if you were okay. It would hurt him to hear the details of your date and see you all excited about another boy but he would bear it.
If only Jace wasn’t afraid of ruining things between you two then he would have taken you out himself after hearing you complain about how your love life is dead instead of letting Rhaena set you up with one of her friends. But Jacaerys is sure that you don’t see him as more than a friend and he doesn’t want to risk losing you so he doesn’t make a move. He's content with being able to be in your life, with the chaotic mornings of the two of you getting ready before going to class, with your text messages telling him everything that happens to you during the day, with the nights cooking together and with the breaks where you watch series snuggled together on the couch.
Jacaerys looks away from the TV as he hears the keys clicking into the lock. You walk in and Jace feels a pit in his stomach because you don’t look excited, you look defeated? Your eyes meet his and you give him a tired smile but you quickly break eye contact to take off your coat and sneakers and then run to the couch with him.
“So you wanna talk about it?” Jacaerys doesn’t even finish asking how much you’re already talking.
“It was fine. He’s nice and we talked for hours. Everything was going well until the end because he tried to kiss me.” If you hadn’t been busy fidgeting nervously you would have noticed how your roommate seemed to tense up all of a sudden. “I declined and he wasn’t bothered but it was awkward.” You sighed.
“Why did you reject him? Are you the kind of person who has a rule of not kissing on the first date?”
“Because I don’t like him” you declared, suddenly looking up and for a moment, at the intensity of your gaze, Jace forgot to breathe. “I could be his friend, but I’m not interested in him in any other way.”
“Oh” was the only thing that came out of the surprised man’s mouth.
“Oh,” you repeated, “Why did you wait for me, Jace?”
“Who said I was waiting for you? I was watching TV” he denied instantly.
“Jace”
Seeing your beautiful eyes looking at him pleadingly for a moment, Jace was afraid to give in and confess everything to you, as for more than a year he can’t stop thinking about you and wants to be more than your friend. But again, he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable and losing your friendship, so he asks instead.
“What does that have to do with you not liking your date?”
“While I was with him I realized that I actually wanted to be home with you” you confessed and instantly regretted it when you saw that he remained silent. “Forget it. I'm sorry for making it weird” You got up ready to go to your room so you could have a crisis alone about ruining your friendship with Jace when he took you by the hand and pulled you causing you to end up on top of him.
“Oh no, I don’t plan on forgetting it, not when I’ve been pining for you for over a year,” he stated making you smile.
“You’re a coward,” you mocked without malice. “Over a year and you never made a move. You’re lucky I decided to act.”
“You’re right,” he said smiling unbothered. “Now that we’ve established that I’m a fool and you’re the best, can I kiss you?” he asked and you laughed feeling delighted with him.
“Try not to sound so desperate to kiss me.”
“Can you blame me?” He arched an eyebrow, any embarrassment or fear he felt disappearing the moment he knew his feelings were reciprocated. “I thought a lot about kissing you and I finally have the chance.”
At his confession, you felt heat on your face and your smile grew. “You're such a fool.” You took his face in your hands and felt your heart warm at the softness with which Jace looked at you.
The moment your lips touched his Jacaerys knew he would become addicted to your kisses. He would look for any excuse to kiss you as many times as he wanted. You would probably become the clingy couple that his friends would make fun of. But he didn't care and he didn't think you would either because you were kissing him with the same intensity.
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Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works
@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson @jacesvelaryons @pictureofcaroline
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ahhnini · 10 hours
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let you break my heart again - rafe cameron x reader
your relationship with rafe is nothing more than a twisted fantasy
warnings - fake dating, rafe breaks reader’s heart, fluff, angst, degradation (not in a kinky way), not proofread!
a/n - based off a dream I had of rafe, kind of in a writing slump so pls send in reqs! <3
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when rafe cameron came knocking at your doorstep at two in the morning, face angry, you were more than confused. you two have never been that close, however, the forced proximity of figure eight led you two to form an acquaintance with another. when you had asked him what was going on, he barged into your house, gripping onto the sides of your shoulders like you were gonna fly away. he looked up at you, eyes red. then, you heard him say words that you didn’t think he’d ever utter to you, “I need you to be my girlfriend.”
so that’s how you ended up here, laughing with the camerons’ on their yacht, sailing the sea. it’s been a month since you’ve agreed to be rafe’s “girlfriend” and everyone on the island bought it. they’ve never known that much about you anyways, so when he started parading you around, everyone began to gossip how rafe cameron charmed the mystery girl of kildare island.
you felt a kiss on your cheek as you pour yourself another drink. “you doin’ okay?” rafe asks as he begins to pour himself a whiskey shot. you nod your head, looking up at him while he downs his drink, “good,” he wipes his lips, walking away to talk to his father. you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. this was harder than you thought, especially when you feel butterflies in your stomach every time he shows an ounce of affection to you.
you made a promise to yourself that this was definitely a no strings attached situation. he would get you around the island, introducing you to valuable connections, while his reputation would change to be a better one. it was a win-win. you didn’t really think about the other factors, like the fact that you’ve had a secret crush on the infamous kook prince since you were twelve.
you really shouldn’t be feeding into your delusions like this; it’s unhealthy. that’s what you keep telling yourself, but each time you see him, you can’t help but have a smidge of optimism, that he actually likes you, wants you.
your heart breaks in the serene island of guadalupe, tears streaming down your face as rafe yells at you in the costal house bedroom. “why would I ever like you, y/n! the only reason why we’re doing this is for my reputation, for my dad to trust me again, for me to show my family that i’ve changed! you don’t mean anything to me, stop thinking i’m actually in love with you, because i’m not! I don’t even think I’d wanna be friends with you,” he huffs, cornering you to a wall. he lifts your chin, observing your tear stricken face, “cry all you want, but that’s not gonna help me change the way I feel.” he backs off, turning around to enter the bathroom, “i’m gonna take a shower, clean yourself off, make yourself presentable. we have dinner in two hours.”
you sip on your latte, waiting for rafe to get back home. you sat like a wife who’s husband spent too much time in the office. except he wasn’t your husband, he was just…a guy. you hear the front door shut, immediately shuffling to greet him. “hey, what are you doin’ here?” he slurred, breath reeking of alcohol. “uh—wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all!” you fidgeted with your hands. he let out a soft hum, “you can spend the night if you want to, y/n, i’m going to topper’s,” you look up at him, meeting his dilated pupils, “wha—huh? you’re gonna drive to topper’s?” rafe rolls his eyes, nodding, “yeah, I am—” “no! I can’t let you do that, let me drive you, c’mon—” he sighs, giving in, and you thank the alcohol has made him less stubborn, “fine.”
you pulled up to topper’s house, the porch light on and inviting. you speak up after the silent drive there, “um—are you sure you want to spend the night at topper’s? we can always go back if you want” he shakes his head, turning towards you. “no, i’m sick of your shit, y/n. always treatin’ me like I can’t take care of myself. guess what,” he points at himself, “I can take care of my own shit, okay? I don’t need you,” he rushes out of the car, stumbling up the porch stairs, disappearing behind the house door.
you stay there for a couple of moments, sniffling. during the drive back to the camerons’—yes, you were staying the night, you needed to take care of rafe for when he was hungover—you reflected on your relationship with him. how one day he’d treat you like you were his queen, the next he’d treat you like you were dirt. you can’t stop your feelings, no matter how hard you tried to repress them, they always end up coming out. you know you don’t deserve this. you deserve someone who actually loves you, not someone who’s using you. but…rafe…you can’t imagine being with someone who’s not him. that night, you lay down on his bed, fantasizing the perfect life with rafe, waiting for him to come back tomorrow morning.
you swallow, telling yourself you’d be fine being with him, being in this arrangement. even if he’ll never love you back, you’d let him break your heart over and over again.
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taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt
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httpscomexe · 15 hours
Note
is chapter 4 of runaway will be coming out soon? just genuinely asking, take your time don't feel rushed!!! i absolutely adore your fics 😍😍
Runaway 4
Summary: Xavier takes others over you, leaving you with Logan's worst nightmare. Staying with Wade Wilson.
(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, forced drinking, sexual jokes, fourth wall breaking. (Individual warnings per chapter) This will most likely be a non-con fic.
Word Count: 4155 (Find all chapters here) CH5
P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.
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It becomes sort of a routine with Logan.
Wake up, let him brush your hair, let him choose your clothes, study, eat dinner, let him brush your hair, sleep, and then repeat. Occasionally, he would have days where he was busy, and you knew better than to try finding Wade. Since he’d taken your phone as a punishment, you hadn’t been able to contact anyone else either. But you didn’t think much of it.
And right now, it was morning. The sun was shining through his open curtains, light shining onto your thighs as you sat on the floor, Logan sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed as he brushed through your hair, his fingers occasionally stroking over your ears.
“Okay, what does this word mean?” You held up the book you were reading, and you pointed at a word on the second page.
“Do you know how to say it…?” He asks you, still brushing through your hair, you weren’t sure why he still was, since there weren't any tangles left.
“Sub…Lim…” You try pronouncing the word, stuttering a little. “Inal?”
“Good, now say it all together.” He asks, taking a tie off his wrist to pull your hair up into a ponytail, but he changes his name and continues to brush it.
“Subliminal? What does that mean?”
“Read the sentence, try to figure it out…” He tells you, sectioning your hair now to part it into box braids.
“It says ‘As is typical with this method, no part… particip…ant… participant reported being aware of the sub…liminal faces.’” You struggle a little, and hear him chuckle behind you.
“Good, what do you think it means?”
“Well…” You think about it, trying to remember what Xavier had taught you about root words, and just as you’re about to explain your thought process, there’s a knock at the door, making your ear twitch slightly to the sound. “Ow…” You move your head away, the pointy end of the brush he was using the part of your hair pokes the sensitive skin of your ear.
“Shit… sorry… are you okay?” He quickly gets down to his knees, and his hand fans over your large ear, and there's another knock at the door, the person behind it getting impatient.
“I’m okay Lo, go see who’s at the door.” You gently nudge his hand away, and you watch as he sighs and stands up to open the door, leaving you to gently rub your ear. You weren’t sure why they were so sensitive, but you were sure it was because you weren’t grown in your deer form yet. You’ve only spent a few hours in that form in total in your many years of being alive, so of course, it wasn’t very… developed.
“Jean?” You can’t see too well from your position on the floor, the bed being in your way.
“Hey, I wanted to talk about something, is Bambi here?” You stay quiet.
“No, she’s out with a friend.” He clears his throat, and you understand what to do, you crawl to the other side of the bed so you wouldn’t be visible to Jean.
“Can I come in?” You hear Logan step inside, then lighter footsteps until Jean is sitting on the edge of the bed.
“So Xavier told me…” You hear the bed move a bit more, and assume Logan sat down next to her. “Having her here is too risky.”
“Too… risky?”
“Yes… Considering she’s a hybrid and all.” You hear her sigh. “Obviously, people are searching for those. And if anyone finds out that she’s here… Well… Then we’re compromising the safety of everyone in the mansion.”
“So what? He wants to just throw her out?”
“No, he will provide her with a home and clothes to hide her-”
“It’s not happening.”
“It’s not up to you, Logan.” By this time, your ears were already pinned down to the back of your head, and if you weren’t sitting on your ass, your tail would be between your legs.
“She will die…”
“She’s survived all this time alone already. What difference would there be?”
“Yea she’s survived!” He half shouts and half whispers. “She’s survived because they catch her and hold her like a fucking animal.”
“Logan, why are you whispering? We’re alone.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then a sigh comes from Jean. “Bambi, you can come out.” Your ear perks up slightly, but you don’t move, she wasn’t in control of you.
“Bambi honey, come on out.” You stand to Logan's demand, slowly before crawling onto the bed, sitting near Logan.
“Hey… Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You tell her, but your ears are still down.
“It’s just… If they find you here, it’s putting everyone else at risk, and Xavier would… Well he’d rather lose 1 hybrid than lose hundreds of mutants.”
“I understand.” You whisper, but your eyes meet Logans.
“When does Xavier want her gone?” Logan's voice comes out gruff.
“As soon as possible. He was hoping this afternoon.”
“And why isn’t he the one telling me this? Why did he send you?” She’s quiet again apart from a sigh. “God he’s a fucking pussy.” His head turns towards you. “There’s a duffle bag in the closet, start throwing our clothes in it Bambi.” He stands up, and Jean stands up with him, a stunned look on her face with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry… Our?” She watches as you disappear into the closet, and her jaw goes slack as Logan follows behind you. “No, no. Logan, you can’t leave.”
“Says who?”
“Says me, Logan. We need you on missions.” She stands at the opening of the closet, and you ignore their conversation, deciding it doesn’t have to do with you.
“You guys will do just fine without me.” He says, reaching over your head to grab a heavy jacket. “Here hun, carry this one. It’s cold outside.”
“Logan-” She grabs his arm, and tries to pull on him. “You can’t-”
“No.” His tone changes completely, from just simple annoyance to straight anger and frustration. He clearly wasn’t happy about Xaviers negligence, and the last thing he needed was the stubborn red head pulling on his arm and telling him he can’t. “I am not leaving her out alone in fucking New York to be kidnapped by another fucking gang.” He pulls his arm away from her and he points in her face. “If you guys need my help so fucking bad, then you better talk to Xavier and figure out a way she can stay here.”
“Logan, there are hundreds of lives on the line, you could at LEAST do the logical thing.”
“The logical thing?” His voice gets louder, and you take a small step away but continue folding clothes and stuffing them into the duffle bag. “I lost my entire fucking family and everyone I knew in my fucking universe, and Bambi is the closest thing I have to family here.”
“The closest thing you have to a family? Logan you fight beside us in missions that could end up with the entire state exploded to dust and what? We’re not your family?”
“No, you’re not. The Jean that was my family is fucking dead, the Xavier that was my family, guess what? He’s fucking dead…” You glance over from the corner of your eye to see Logan take a progressive step towards him with each name. “Ororo, Hank, Scott, everyone that was my fucking family is dead. So excuse me if I don’t want to see a walking fucking corpse every last waking second of my life, and be reminded of my fuck up, everytime I see you motherfuckers…” Jean was now packed into a corner, Logan's face barely inches away from hers, and you can see the way her jaw is clenching. “So don’t you fucking dare tell me what I can, and can not do. I have no connection to you, and will have no fucking problem sending three fucking blades down the centre of your throat.” She doesn’t say anything, only swallowing her spit before her eyes move to yours, still in the closet and frozen in the middle of folding a pair of Logan's jeans before you had become invested in their argument.
You’ve never seen Logan so pissed.
“Fine… Leave.” She looks back up at Logan. “Have the lives of a couple more hundred people in your hands because you left, again.” Shit… You watch as his claws slowly extract from his hands, and you put the jeans down, slowly approaching in case Jean becomes a target.
“You better take that back…” They stare at each other for a long moment. Only the sound of the fan above spinning and the heavy breathing from Logan could be heard through the room.
“Make. Me.” Logan.
“Oh…” He chuckles. Logan…! “Now you’ve done it…” Logan!
“Logan!” Your voice comes out small, and his head twitches a little as he looks over his shoulder. He looks as if he had forgotten you were there. “Can we leave… Please?” You glance down as his claws are hidden back beneath his skin, and it heals over quickly.
“Right…” He growls a little, and backs away from Jean after one last look. “Are you ready then?” He asks, ignoring Jean now as he goes into the closet and lifts the duffle bag, tossing in the last pair of jeans before zipping it up.
“Yes I’m ready…” You stand in the centre of the room awkwardly. “I guess…” You mumble, and Logan sways his hand in front of him, signalling for you to move ahead of him as he grabs his keys, and you’re out of the door quickly, leaving Jean alone in the room, and his arm slides behind your back to walk next to you.
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You were sitting in the passenger seat, watching in the mirror as Logan tossed the bag in the back, slamming the door and making the truck shake a little before getting behind the wheel and starting the engine.
“So where are we going?” He sighs, thinking of an answer to the question with one hand on the wheel as he stares at nothing. Then he reaches into his back pocket, and takes out his phone, handing it to you. “Call Wade.” You take the phone. “Act happy or whatever, and ask if he has space for both you and me…” He growls a little again, looking out his window as you find Wade’s name in his contacts, and you ring it.
“Peanut? And I thought you deleted my number.” The sound of Wade's voice alone was enough to make you smile.
“No, it's me.” You chuckle a little, expecting him to recognise your voice.
“Oh, darling. Bambi, you’re using Logans’ phone. Everything okay?”
“Yes. Everything is fine. But he and I were wondering if you had space for both him and me?”
“They’re kicking him out already?”
“No, they’re kicking me out actually.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. I have the couch, and I have an air mattress that I let Logan sleep on before he left me for one-eye. You guys can obviously stay here.” Logan sighs, but he starts the engine and speaks up.
“Still living under that bridge with Althea?” He asks gruffly.
“Of course, I wouldn't want to leave this humble abode. But peanut?” Logan grunts. “Do you mind picking up dinner? I’ll pay you back. We just need pizza.”
“Sure. What kind?” He turns over his shoulder and begins backing out.
“Hawaiian, no ham. And then just normal cheese.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks pea-” Logan reaches over and hangs up before putting the truck back in forward and he drives out of the parking lot, leaving the mansion behind.
“Can we also get some brownies?” You ask, putting the phone on the centre console.
“Of course, Bambi.”
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“Oh, my two most favourite things ever are here!” Wades’ voice is joyful as both you and Logan walk inside of his little home, the smell of sweat and dog smacking you in the face.
“Male strippers and cocaine?” Another voice comes from a different room.
“Bambi and pizza!” He hugs you, and Logan grunts from behind. “Male strippers is my third favourite, silly.” He calls back, letting go of you and taking the pizza boxes from your hand.
“Hey Bam, how about you go shower, the bathrooms back there.” He points to the room where the other voice came from. Just another person comes out, wearing glasses and with a white afro and walking cane in one hand.
“Who the hell gives birth and names their kid ‘bam?’” She says, feeling around a little for the couch and mumbling something along the lines of ‘why does Wade keep moving the fucking couch.’ “That’s a stupid-”
“Her name is actually Bambi.”
“That’s a little better.” Just a few sentences in conversation between Wade and Althea, and you could tell just how close they really were besides their constant bantering. “Wait, her?”
“I know right? Logan managed to pick up a little girl.” Wade says giddily, placing the pizza boxes on the table and opening them all before taking two cheese, a pineapple, and three brownies.
“Oh then it’s not as surprising, I thought she was your girl.”
“Look, Wade and I need to have a talk.” Logan says suddenly, gently grabbing your arm to get you to look at him. “How about you go take that shower, okay?” You nod, and take some clothes from the duffle bag he's set on the floor.
“I promise the bathroom is the cleanest place in this house.” Wade tells you as you walk by, grabbing a brownie as you pass him. 
“Just ignore Wade's toys, he uses them when Vanessa is around.” Vanessa? “Or whenever Gossip Girls is playing… Wish I was deaf.”
You walk into the bathroom, the sound of Logan's voice disappearing as you close the door, and your eyes immediately land on the large dildo sticking to the wall, which you try your hardest to ignore and not laugh at as you turn on the faucet and remove your clothes.
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With the time that you’re in the shower, Logan takes his time explaining to Wade why they need a place to stay for a while, at least until they find another place.
“God they are such pieces of shit. Like I get where they’re coming from with saving hundreds or saving one, but there’s also like either you save one hundred chickens or you save one unicorn. One’s just more important. You don’t find any mammal hybrids anymore.”
“Exactly, but also Jean got pissed off at me because I told her I’m leaving. Apparently I’m so important and they can’t win without me.” He takes a large sip from his beer, an understatement when half the bottle disappears down his throat.
“I mean they’ve survived and fought so long without this world's Logan before…” Wade tells him, snatching another cheese pizza.
“Look, if I ever end up having to leave…” He sighs, regretting his next words. “Just promise to take care of Bambi. Other than you, she’s all I have left.”
“Wow, talking about me like my life doesn’t matter.” He chuckles, shoving the cheesy bread into his mouth, getting the red sauce on his lips.
“Well you can’t die, she can.”
“Now, now. I was joking, Peanut.” Logan grunts at the use of the nickname.
“What’s this girl's real name anyways?” Althea asks, using a nail fail on her nails, not even realising how incredibly crooked they were becoming.
“No idea, I’ve been calling her Bambi cause… Well, she’s a deer hybrid.”
“Ah, ah. She’s a fawn hybrid.”
“Fawn isn’t a fucking species, it’s an age.”
“Yes, but she’s not a deer.”
“Pretty sure she’s full grown.”
“Maybe in her human form. But she hasn’t spent nearly enough time in her deer form to call herself a deer.”
“What are you talking about…?”
“Look at it this way, if she spent the majority of her life in her deer form, then she’d be a full grown deer, and whenever she turned into her human form, she’d be a toddler. Right now, she’s a toddler in her deer form, AKA, a fawn.” He pauses and looks away from Logan, eyes landing on Althea. “Al honey, if you keep doing that to your nails, they’ll be sharp enough to give someone a Prince Albert piercing.” He looks away from Althea and at a wall. “Readers, I don’t suggest looking that up.”
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Logan growls, and he can hear the sound of the shower being turned off.
“He does that sometimes, you learn to ignore it.”
“Maybe you do, but you’re blind. He literally just stared at the fucking wall and spoke to dust.”
“Like I said, you get used to it.”
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As you get out of the shower and dry yourself, some sort of talk about walls and dust quickly changes into how Wade is a psychopath. Throughout your entire shower, you were thinking about where you’d be sleeping. Of course, knowing Logan, he’d let you choose between either the air mattress or the couch. The problem is, you didn’t know what’s been done on either of them. You knew Wade pretty well, and judging by the dildo still suctioned onto the wall, he didn’t really care who knew about what he did, and he didn’t mind where he did it. So you were sure there would be stains on either one.
“There she is.” Wade automatically silences the conversation as you walk out of the bedroom and back into the living room wearing only your favourite white lace panties and one of Logans’ hoodies, which looked oversized on your smaller body.
“Want the couch or the air mattress Bambi?” There it is. You still had the towel in your hands, and you were drying your hair as you sat next to him on the couch.
“Yea I had a question for you about that.”
“What’s up?”
“Is the couch even…” You look at Wade. “Clean?” You ask it in the nicest way you can, and the sight of Althea suddenly breaking out in laughter seems to stun Wade.
“Careful now, don’t want to have a stroke.”
“Oh fuck you.” She stops laughing and looks in your general direction. “Want my honest input.” You nod, but then remember she’s blind.
“Yes, please.”
“Sleep on the floor.” She tells you, then stands up with her walking cane, and heads towards her room, closing the door behind her.
“Logan, where would you rather sleep?” You expect him not to answer, and to just tell you that where he sleeps is based on your answer.
“I’d prefer the couch, an air mattress is like sleeping on a damn rock.”
“Can I just… Can I just sleep on you?”
“Oh. My. God. You better say yes, she’s offering to sleep with you.” Wade stands up from the couch, stretching in place before heading to Althea's room. They sleep together?
“Wade, we sleep together all the time.” Logan sighs.
“It was supposed to be a sex joke, Sheldon Cooper.”
“Who…?”
“Ignore it…” Logan holds his hand out, preventing you from saying anything else.
“Goodnight, Peanut. Goodnight, Bambi!” He calls from the room before closing the door, and you can hear the sound of him throwing his jeans down on the floor before the bed in the room creaks under his weight.
“So…”
“What do you mean sleep on me?” Logan asks, interrupting you.
“I mean like… You sleep on the couch, and I sleep on your body. Like you’re my bed.” He stares at you for a moment, as if deciphering your request.
“Yea… Yea, we can do that, that’s okay.” He groans as he stands up, tossing his beer bottle in a pile of more bottles, some broken from previous other bottles being tossed on them.
“I’m gonna eat first though, does Wade have anything to drink?” You ask, standing up as well, and skipping a little to his fridge.
“Ugh… I know he has beer.” He tells you, opening another closet and pulling out a few blankets as you open the fridge and search for something other than alcohol. You simply will not touch it.
“Gross… Is the sink water-”
“Don’t even think about drinking the sink water.”
“What does he give her?” You point down at the slobbery looking dog that’s been snoring this entire time, kicking her legs in her sleep.
“Probably his own saliva.” He tells you, and it almost sounded serious as he covers the couch in clean blankets. “Did you bring your hairbrush?” You nod, walking back over to the couch. “The beer?” He quirks his eyebrow, reaching down to find the hairbrush in the duffle bag.
“Beer is gross.”
“Grab me one then.” You turn back around, opening the fridge again to grab a beer for him. “Sit here.” He points to the couch, and you sit exactly where he’s pointing, and he sits behind you on the back of the couch as you’re seated between his legs.
“Thank you baby.” He takes the beer from your hands, and removes the few braids he was able to get in from that morning and afterwards he pops the beer open.
“How does your ear feel?” He asks once they’re all out, gently touching your ear with his fingers and stroking the fur gently, causing you to purr quietly.
“It’s fine, it was just a poke.”
“Good, I didn’t mean to hurt you Bambi…”
“I know, it was my fault. I moved.” He doesn’t say anything back, instead, he grabs the hairbrush and begins to gently brush through your hair, and again, as always, he’s careful to avoid your ears, using his hands to gently pull threads of your hair off the fur.
“Are you sure you don’t want the couch to yourself?”
“Logan, you know I don’t like sleeping alone.”
“I know, Bamb. Just trying to make conversation.” He tells you, and you reach forward, him gently letting go of your hair so he doesn’t pull it as you grab two cheese pizzas, the pineapple box completely empty.
“You have to drink something.” He continues brushing your hair, occasionally taking a sip of his beer as he focuses on brushing.
“I know, but beer is gross… We can always go out and get apple juice in the morning?” You suggest, and he sighs behind you.
“You haven’t drank anything all day.” He tells you, and you look up and over your shoulder at him as he sets the brush aside and puts more of the liquid in his mouth, you watch as his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
“I’ll be alright.” You tell him as he stares down at you, and his right hand finds your chin as he lifts your face up slightly. Then he presses a single kiss to the corner of your lips, pulling back for a moment to take another swig of his beer, and his lips find yours fully now. His fingers squeeze your jaw carefully, but enough to force your own lips open, and he spits the alcohol into your mouth, making you involuntarily pull away but he keeps you still, replacing his mouth with his hand and covering your nose as well so you’re forced to drink the foul liquid.
“Now we either do that about five more times, or you drink the rest yourself.” He tells you, holding the half-filled bottle up to your eye level.
“Fine…” You groan, taking the bottle and sipping from it as he watches you.
“Good girl…” Your tail begins to wag on its own again at his praise and he removes his shirt before lying down on the couch with only a lamp on a small table next to the couch to illuminate a small portion of the room.
“Do I have to drink it all?”
“Just half is okay.” He tells you, and you close your nose before downing half of what he’s given you, hacking a little at the taste.
“Done.” You hold out the bottle to him, and he takes it, swallowing the rest before tossing the bottle towards the rest as before.
“Alright, lie down…” He pats his stomach a little, and you quickly crawl on top of him, taking a soft blanket from the side with you.
“So… since we’re living with Wade now…”
“You don’t have to ignore him…” He answers your question before you even finish asking it, and he shuts off the light behind him, casting the room in darkness, barely seconds later you feel his hand on your head as he gently scratches that spot behind your ear, making you purr.
You were relieved you wouldn’t have to ignore Wade, considering you’d be living with them for who knows how long.
“Just don’t ever sleep with him when I’m not here.”
Tags: @shybluebirdninja @atomicheartbroken @hazydespair
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sp-by-april · 2 days
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PC!Kyle x F!Reader [Part 2]
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[Part One] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]
I heard from Kyle two weeks later. Honestly, I was used to guys hitting me up immediately so I kind of wondered if he'd just forgotten about me. I was relieved when that wasn't the case.
He said he was having drinks with some of his friends and to meet him at the end of the night and he’d take me to his place. Kinda weird, but whatever. I really wanted to see him.
As I walked in, I saw him talking to a bunch of other old guys.
“She is pretty,” Kyle said.
“She’s hot,” Stan said with a grin, “I was gonna pick her up first, but I figured Kyle could use the fun,”
Kyle frowned, “Is that how you remember it going?”
An awkward smile slid over my face as I embedded myself with the group of men and made my presence known, “That’s pretty much how I remembered it,”
“Pretty girl!” the guys all said in unison as they lifted their assorted glasses towards me.
Kyle kissed my cheek and leaned over my ear with a smirk, “Sorry, they saw my phone,”
I nodded, reaching for the drink in his hand. Thankfully, he handed it over without a second thought.
I finished the liquor and listened intently as all the guys rushed to introduce themselves to me.
Tolkien was a cop. Clyde… I still don’t know what he actually does. Jimmy, was a comedian that I vaguely remembered my mother watching when I was a kid. Kenny, billionaire, needed no introduction but provided one all the same.
I felt more awkward and out of place than ever. I think Kyle realized it because he plucked the drink out of Stan’s hand and placed it in mine.
I was used to older guys vying for my attention so I knew how to navigate it. Older guys tend to like when I’m bolder, brasher, and more irreverent than their younger counterparts. These guys were a lot less intimidated by a woman with a mouth and I appreciated it. I was nervous but the whole thing went fine.
Kyle and I left first. I could hear the guys talking about how lucky he got before the door even closed behind us.
When we got to his place, I was slightly annoyed with having his friends sprung on me but I was horny enough to let it slide. At least, I would have let it slide if he let me.
He looked me up and down as he hung up his blazer and I tossed my purse and pink capelet jacket on his couch.
Kyle tilted his head as he watched me, “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” I lied and approached with my sultriest walk.
“I get it,” A slight smile slid over his face as he reached out and cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand, “You’re closed off because behind the walls, you’re soft – But you don’t have to lie to me,”
I rolled my eyes,“Don’t psychoanalyze me,”
“I’d never,” He chuckled, “I don’t think you could afford it,”
I’d had enough.
“You can’t ignore me for weeks and then spring your friends on me,” I fumed, “And you definitely don’t get to treat me like a trophy after the fact – Like I’m some stupid girl who doesn’t know that some guy is just using her for sex,”
He squinted like he was trying to solve a difficult equation, “How can I be using you for sex if I’m ignoring you at the same time?”
Okay, that time I’d had enough.
“Have fun explaining to your friends how you let a girl like me get away,” I said and spun on my heels to leave.
“I wasn’t ignoring you,” He sighed as my hand reached for the doorknob, “And I wasn’t trying to ambush you – Okay, I was trying to ambush you, but for a good reason,”
I turned back to Kyle and crossed my arms, “There’s no good reasons to ambush people,”
“The guys I made those plans months ago and I’ve been swamped at work if you couldn't tell. I couldn’t cancel on them and I wanted to see you. Besides, I figured it would be a quick way to help you get to know me. Kind of like a crash course,”
“You want me to know you?” I asked and took a slow step towards him.
He smirked, “Yeah,”
I took another cautious step, “Why?”
He glanced away and rubbed the nape of his neck, “Because I want to know you,”
“You were really just busy with work?” I asked, walking the rest of the way to meet him.
He slid his palm over my cheek and I stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss and he leaned in, but instead he brought his face to my neck. His other hand found my waist and his nose brushed against my earlobe as he inhaled my scent.
“Trust me, if it were up to me I would’ve had you in my bed every night,” He sighed, his hot breath washing over my skin, “You have no idea what you do to me. I haven’t been this fucking horny since high school,”
He kissed my neck and my fucking heart skipped a beat.
Then the hand on my waist slid over my ass and he pulled me up against him, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you move your hips,”
He finally pulled me into a kiss and I nearly swooned in his arms. I parted my lips and he pulled me into a deeper kiss, his tongue sliding right in my mouth.
His hand slid up my skirt, just to pull my panties down. He pushed my back against the wall and dropped to his knees.
He kissed my thigh as his fingers slid over my slit. I’m pretty sure I felt his breath hitch when he felt how wet I was. His fingers pushed inside and I almost gasped. I think it was the anticipation. I felt like I’d been waiting forever for him to touch me again. The way he moved his fingers felt like fucking magic.
He kissed my hip bone and his fingers curled to massage that sweet spot inside of me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle at least some moaning so I didn’t sound like some slut. I should have known better. Maybe he was right about me having walls.
Either way, he increased the pressure and speed. I felt like I was completely at his mercy. He buried his face against my hip, which pressed into him as his fingers brought me to my climax.
Or they would have if he hadn’t stopped just as I was about to hit my high.
I looked down at him and I swear that I meant to bitch, but instead I just whimpered.
He looked up at me and smirked, “You’re even prettier when when you’re needy,”
“I’m not needy,” I lazily protested.
“Hmm?” He licked a thick stripe over my clit and my entire body shuddered, “Really?”
I whined so loud that I was actually kind of mortified. Seeing the smug look of satisfaction on his face just made it worse.
He got on his feet and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me to his bed, my panties still down at my knees.
He dropped me on his bed and slowly slid my panties down over my ankles. I watched breathlessly as he pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. Then unzipped. Then stepped out of them.
He stroked himself over his boxer-briefs as he looked at me laid out on his bed. I could see every bit of how badly he wanted me. When he finally lost the underwear, I thought I was going to go insane just from the anticipation.
“I want to keep you,” He leaned over me and left a small kiss on my collarbone, “I’m gonna make you my wife,”
“...What?” My breath hitched and I had to replay the sentence in my mind at least three times to make sure that I heard him correctly.
“I promise I’ll take care of you,” He rubbed the head of his cock over my slit, picking up my desire for him, “And I’ll make you feel good,”
He kissed my neck and I cupped his cheeks and brought his face to mine. I had to look him in the eyes.
“You promise to take care of me?” I asked him just above a whisper.
“I’ll do more than that,” He groaned as he sank deep into me and I gasped as I felt him push my body to it’s limits.
He held still for just a moment, both of us relishing the initial feeling of him immersed in me, and finally experiencing what we’d both been craving for weeks.
I grabbed onto his shoulders and my eyes rolled back when his hips finally started to move.
“You can do anything you want to me,” I said thinly, struggling to speak and not just moan.
His eyes were glued to me as I moaned shamelessly. His hand palmed my breast and his thumb brushed over my nipple, eliciting a softer moan from me that seemed to enamor him. He pinched my nipple and gave it a light tug, drinking in every soft sound I made.
A small smirk slid over his face just before he locked his mouth onto mine. He picked up the pace, his rhythm getting more and more intense. I couldn’t believe how good he felt, his cock was indulging my sweet spot with every fucking stroke. My hands ran down his back, my freshly manicured nails dragging over his skin.
His hand slid down, held onto my hips as he pressed me into his mattress and kept me in place as he irresistibly pounded into me.
My back arched and as I did my best to resist the orgasm. I lost the fight. My body seized up, and all the bliss that had built up inside of me swelled to an unimaginable, incredible level. Everything was incredible with him. My nails dug into his skin, my back arched even more sharply. I moaned brazenly. My moans were quivering and embarrassingly loud. The sacred space in my core fastened up around him and I grasped him like I needed him to live. Like he meant everything to me. Like I was desperate for him. I think I was.
As I trembled underneath him, the visuals and sensations of my orgasm pushed him over the edge. He groaned low in his throat and his eyes rolled back as his hips bucked into me. He sealed his mouth back onto mine as he drove deep inside of me and his hips noticeably twitched. I moaned into our kiss as his cock pulsed intensely and pumped me full of hot, milky spurts. His tongue slid into my mouth as he finished spilling every bit of his seed glazing my cervix.
He panted over me and pet my hair as all the tension that had built up in his muscles melted off of him. He kissed me again and a sly smile slid over his face, “I’m keeping you for sure,”
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You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 31
Long time no update, sorry
‘You are my mate,’ Nesta said, holding his gaze. Azriel could sense the need to bolt in her. To make this declaration with an audience demanded so much from her, but Azriel held her there. ‘Mine. Only mine. And,’ she gave herself a moment to breathe, ‘I love you.’
Shadows swooped around them like a maelstrom. They engulfed the pair of them without his command. Azriel lifted Nesta’s chin to kiss her again.
When the shadows dropped away, Thesan cleared his throat.
‘I have mended the gravest injuries, but Illyrians' wings are wholly different to that of the Peregryn. It is beyond my capabilities.’
‘We’ll have Madja sent for,’ said Cassian. He gave a nod then departed, a hand pressed to his abdomen where his own wounds still healed.
Azriel’s wings stung but that announcement from Nesta had given him the strength to stand upright again. In the corner of his vision, he could see Mor staring daggers at them; her arms were folded, the mortal girl, Briar, forgotten in her anger.
‘Be with your sisters and take a rest,’ he said, touching Nesta’s face. ‘When Madja arrives, I’ll find you.’
Nesta gave a reluctant nod before departing too. He watched the sway of her hips as she left, glad she was his.
Over his shoulder, Azriel gave a slight nod to Mor then thanked Thesan for his attempts. His steps were heavy and awkward due to the injuries on his wings. Each movement stretched the tendons so he could feel every single one aching. He gritted his teeth and moved on towards a quiet corner of the camp. The grey sky promised rain – this close to the Winter Court, the temperatures would plummet too.
Mor stopped a few paces from him, her face hard.
‘She’s your mate.’
‘Yes.’
Why did he owe her this conversation? A five-hundred-year commitment that only he upheld had been sliced with a knife effortlessly once Nesta came into his life. Nothing was left hanging; no threads remained that he wanted to cling to. Whatever he’d felt for Mor paled now. It had never been reciprocated besides so he couldn’t understand why she stood so terse and sullen.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ she stated.
‘You didn’t need to know.’
Her nostrils flared. ‘I’m your friend.’
‘Nesta is my mate and she needed time to process it. I haven’t spoken of it to anybody.’
‘Cassian knew.’
‘Because Cassian figured it out, Mor. Why are you angry with me?’
‘You didn’t tell me,’ Mor repeated, as if saying it twice would wound him.
‘Because Nesta has been my priority.’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘And that’s it? You’ll just forget about what she did to Feyre?’
‘If you can’t speak of her with kindness then don’t mention her name at all,’ Azriel warned. When it came to his mate, he didn’t care how long he’d known Mor for. ‘You could at least try to be happy for me. You know what it means to me to have a mate. You, of all people, know how long I have been waiting for love.’
The words hit her just as he’d intended them to, but Azriel didn’t linger to hear her reply. As he wended his way through the village of tents that had been erected, he spotted Cassian – larger than any – beckoning him to signal that Madja had arrived.
‘Will you find Nesta for me?’
‘Sure,’ said Cassian, not hiding his grin. ‘Out in the open now. Madja’s in my tent. Make yourself at home.’
In true Cassian style, the tent was untidy. He preferred his belongings in disarray so he could find things easier. Azriel and Rhys had tried over the years to keep their brother orderly, but had never succeeded.
‘If it isn’t him, it’s you,’ said Madja by way of a greeting. ‘It will be slow. And painful.’
‘Thank you for the warning,’ he said, moving to a supine position on the bed.
When the tent flap rustled, Azriel didn’t need to look to know who’d arrived. He could feel their bond practically glowing as Nesta neared. She went to her knees beside him without a hint of recognition for Madja. Her fingers brushed through his thick hair.
‘I’ll be with you.’
Through the hour or so that Madja worked, Nesta remained true to her word. Her only movement came from the tender stroke of her fingers against his face. The Mother had blessed him with her for a reason that he didn’t know. All Azriel knew was that he did not deserve Nesta – but he was glad to have her.
‘You need to rest, Shadowsinger. I know that isn’t an easy task for you,’ Madja scolded. ‘No flight. I do not want you to raise your arms above your head or lean over. Limit the range of movement at your core.’ She shook her head, apparently already expecting him to disobey her commands. ‘They will heal – but you must allow them to. Cassian followed my advice to the letter and his wings were in far worse shape.’
Azriel held his tongue rather than pass comment that orders were Cassian’s currency. He nodded once then Madja gave a look of reproach before departing.
They were summoned to Rhysand’s larger tent where the high lords had gathered alongside a handful of Illyrian camp lords. Azriel listened to the conversation about their strategy to face Hybern, offering little. The next battle would be sooner rather than later – and Hybern would strike hard. He’d hit the mortal lands. With the Wall down and the Spring Court weakened, he’d sweep through and slaughter mortals as he pleased.
Azriel leaned forwards on his stool, unable to keep his wings upright with his aching muscles. Then a weight lifted from his back, the burning pain subsiding. Cold hands delicately held the bulk of his wings to alleviate the strain on his muscles. Nesta offered a muted smile to him as he glanced over his shoulder at her while the conversation continued. That touch had Azriel struggling to concentrate on one of the most important discussions of his life. How was he supposed to focus when his mate was touching his wings in public? There was nothing innately sexual in the gesture and yet Azriel couldn’t stop himself from imagining Nesta’s hands running against the tendons that attached to the bone. How silken her touch would be against the sensitive membrane. The fact she’d even noticed him struggling and been willing to help was another beast in itself. His thoughts were muddled. Tiredness and lust chasing away sense as he tried to focus on Feyre’s words.
‘Then we go tonight,’ said Feyre. ‘Anybody who can winnow will move the humans from Hybern’s path. We have to save as many as we can.’
He sat forwards on the stool to try and focus on the conversation and ignore the feel of Nesta’s hands against his wings.
Helion scoffed at her words. ‘We will be exhausted then Hybern's path is clearer.’
‘We’ll need all the strength we have to fight,’ added Kallias. His words were careful. ‘We can't waste it on winnowing humans.’
He felt Nesta’s hands grip tighter on his wings so he forced down a yelp.
‘It is no waste,’ countered Feyre. ‘One life may change the world. Where would you all be if someone had deemed saving my life to be a waste of time?’ She pointed to Rhys. ‘If he had deemed saving my life Under the Mountain a waste of time? Even if it’s only twenty families, or ten… They are not a waste. Not to me – or to you.’
They broke off from their discussions to set into action. Nesta remained near him as the other high lords peeled off to their own tents to dole out orders. When Feyre and Amren beckoned Nesta to them, she frowned then touched his neck before departing.
‘Az,’ Rhys said, glancing to his bandaged back. ‘You need to sit this one out.’
He clenched his teeth together, biting back the instinctual need to lash out. He breathed slowly. ‘I can winnow. You need me.’
Rhys touched a hand to his chest. ‘What I need is for you to rest. Take tonight to rest and we’ll see about tomorrow.’
He got to his feet, aching wings be damned, to draw himself to his full height and look down at his brother. ‘We’ll see about tomorrow? I’m fighting tomorrow, Rhys, and that’s it.’
‘You can’t fly.’
‘I’ll decide what I can’t do.’
The few who remained in the tent talking – Kallias and Thesan among them – cast looks in their direction. Rhys lowered his voice and leaned in close. ‘I am trying to keep you alive. You are already injured. If you can’t fly then you’re at a disadvantage in the legion.’
‘I’m stronger than all of those soldiers. You need me.’
‘Alive,’ Rhys emphasised. ‘I need you alive – and so does Nesta.’ He shook his head. ‘This isn’t up for discussion. You’re staying here tonight to rest. Most males would kill for a final night with their mate because not all of us will be here to see the sun set tomorrow.’
A foul mood fell as heavy as a cloud as the others winnowed away while Azriel remained in the camp like a scolded child. He hated to feel useless. He was forbidden from helping today. If he couldn’t fight tomorrow, what was the fucking point in any of it? He was a shadow singer. He was the only one in known existence at that time. Azriel could be the one to tip the scale - but Rhys had relegated him to minding the camp like a nursemaid.
‘You haven’t eaten,’ came Nesta’s voice.
The look she gave him was no less intense than usual. She saw all of him. From the deep-rooted need to prove himself useful to the churning emotions that he’d been left behind.
She led him by the hand to where food was distributed to members of any court. They had all quickly learnt that the Winter Court had the blandest food to offer but the Day Court’s was rich with overlaid spices.
‘I find I have a taste for spicy food,’ she said, handing a bowl to him and taking one for herself. ‘Elain has eaten, but perhaps we could sit with her.’
Azriel didn’t want to force his bad mood on any, but Nesta gripped his hand fiercely like he would float away at any moment. The tent was warm and Elain still dozed as she was prone to do. Blankets were tucked around her slumbering form and Nesta seated herself near her sister like a watchful guardian.
They ate in silence. Only the scraping of their wooden spoons against the bottom of the bowl interrupted it.
‘I’ll return these,’ he said, standing swiftly.
‘You will come back, won’t you?’ Nesta pinned him with a stare like she saw right through him. Knew that he’d planned to winnow to the mortal lands and damn Rhys’ orders. She stood, a hand reaching for his face, and caressed it. ‘I need you to live, Azriel.’
***
Silence washed through the tent as the day dribbled away into night. Azriel lay with his head in her lap, refusing to give into sleep. Only her cajoling him had meant that he took the vial of pain relief that Madja had left for him. It seemed her mate was a masochist.
Over and over, Nesta thought about what the dawn would bring. They would seek out the Cauldron – her, Elain, Feyre, and Amren. It meant they would need to draw out Hybern’s armies to lead the bulk away from the Cauldron. Feyre and Amren believed in the plan. Believed that the king might leave his prized possession under the watchful eyes of his soldiers and take to the field. No, he wouldn’t. Nesta knew it in her heart that he would not – unless the right bait was offered. She would die tomorrow. If it meant that her sisters lived then it was a price she needed to pay.
‘Azriel,’ she whispered, stroking her mate’s hair. It was softer than she expected it to be – far softer than her own. When he murmured in response, she leaned forwards to kiss his temple. How had she denied herself these comforts for so long? It was easy to be with him like this. To kiss. To hold. ‘May we go to your tent?’
With Varian remaining to keep a watchful eye on Elain, Nesta led Azriel by the hand to his tent. She moved to the brazier, lighting it quickly so that he didn’t need to be near fire, then led him towards the bed. Before she could lose her conviction, Nesta removed his clothing. Her own was shed just as hurriedly so that she was naked. Azriel, it seemed, did not know where to cast his eyes. He looked at all of her then none of her, his hazel eyes shooting up towards the sloping roof of the tent.
‘Look at me,’ she murmured, grazing her knuckles along his cheek. ‘I would like it if you looked at me.’
Azriel forced his head downwards as if it went against every moral that he’d been holding onto tightly. She held herself still as his eyes swept over her bare skin.
A hand curved over her hip and drew her closer.
Nesta tipped up her head to kiss her mate. It was gentle, but Nesta did not want caution that night. She would die in the morning. If they only had one night together, she wanted all of him. All of her mate.
As they kissed, Nesta guided him backwards towards the low-slung camp bed that she prayed would hold both of their weight.
‘We must be careful with your wings,’ she whispered between kisses.
With a strain, Azriel pulled himself away from her lips. There was a flush to his cheeks that she had never seen before – and wished she could see every day. In that moment, the shadowsinger appeared so vulnerable like he would bare his heart to her if she asked.
‘We don’t have to do this. Don’t feel forced.’
‘Who said?’ Nesta challenged, touching the tip of her nose to his. ‘Who is forcing me? For months, you have been there to steady me through every storm. Tomorrow, we face our greatest test.’ To call it a test seemed too trivial. But Nesta couldn’t call it a war. Couldn’t ground it into reality that way. ‘Maybe we only have one more sunrise. I want to spend tonight with my mate in case we…’
A knot grew in her throat, making it difficult to speak. The idea of losing Azriel after only finding him recently was too much to bear. She would not fare well without him. It was Azriel who guided her when she could not see the way through the darkness. Tomorrow, the darkness would take her, not him. She knew it. It was a truth that she could not run from. The thought made her heart speed up. The others would take care of Azriel. Rhysand and Cassian – even Morrigan – they would keep him together when she fell. She had to believe in that.
Azriel’s hands slid to her face, holding her still as their foreheads touched.
‘We will have a future. I promise this.’
She gripped his hands in response, praying to the Mother it was true. Only now that it was going to be snatched away did Nesta realise how desperately she wanted a future with Azriel. She loved him. It was so easy to admit it. He was her first thought when she woke and the last before she closed her eyes. He was everything. She wanted to marry him, to have his children, to grow old together. And it would be taken from them.
Azriel kissed a trail down her body to try to soothe her worries, but he did not know the depths of her fears. He did not know what the morning had planned for her.
He did an admirable job of hiding the pain of his wings as he manoeuvred himself between her thighs. Nesta sank back onto the thin pillow as Azriel languidly kissed her sex. The warmth of his tongue coaxed her legs wider and all the demure ways of a mortal woman were abandoned in favour of her mate’s mouth. Azriel was gentle and demanding in equal measure. His lips pressed firmly against her, savouring the taste as she writhed and jerked from his touch. A hand moved up her body to palm her breast. She twisted her own fingers into his black hair, holding him to her while her release built. Her mate was a careful lover who ensured that she reached the edge of her pleasure. His fingers covered her mouth to muffle her moans in the tent. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of her, not for a moment, as she came.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured, caressing her face.
‘Let me feel you inside of me.’
His eyes shuttered closed then he moved towards her. He stilled for a moment, wincing as his wing flexed.
‘We’ll be gentle,’ Nesta whispered, stroking his arm.
‘Just this once,’ he teased. The ghost of the smile on his lips was so precious that Nesta held it in her memories like pressing flowers between the pages of a book to keep forever.
Although she was nervous, Nesta could not imagine this moment with anybody else. He had been patient and loving, leading the way through the dark even when Nesta was ready to give up.
Despite having no basis of comparison, she knew his manhood was larger than most. Azriel seemed to come to the same conclusion as he positioned himself at her entrance.
‘You will tell me if you are hurting.’
She gave a little nod, unsure if she could find her voice.
The pressure that built made her hold him closer. Slowly, ever so slowly, Azriel pushed himself in deeper. The feeling of being stretched was not pleasant, nor was it unpleasant. It was unlike anything she had felt before – an invasion where there should have been emptiness. His body on hers was hot, the weight comforting, as she adjusted to him.
‘That’s about half.’
‘Only half?’ Her voice pitched on the last word.
Azriel grimaced. ‘Is it too painful?’
At her hesitation, Azriel made to withdraw his length. Nesta gripped his arm, her nails digging into the flesh. ‘No. Please, stay. Just… slowly.’
He touched her face with reverence. ‘Slowly,’ he agreed. ‘And you will tell me when you want to stop.’
She didn’t know if she ever would. The intimacy of him moving within her meant more to Nesta than anything else. It would override her sense.
He slid in deeper, drawing a ragged moan from her. Each measured thrust of his hips was careful. Azriel was so beautiful. So kind. Hers. This was her mate. Fate had led them together. For five hundred years, Azriel had been waiting for her. There was something deeply romantic about it. He had waited so long to be hers. And tomorrow, he would be without her again. To leave the path to the Cauldron clear, Nesta had to draw out the king. Her life was forfeit. To save him – to save them all – Nesta had to die.
At the first sign of her tears, Azriel froze. ‘Nesta.’
‘Don’t stop.’
‘Nesta, you’re crying.’
‘They are good tears,’ she assured him, swallowing down her joy and sorrow. ‘I love you. I wish I didn’t wait so long to be with you.’
Azriel leaned in close to kiss her. ‘I have waited all of my life to love you.’ He pressed another kiss to her forehead. ‘All of that waiting was worth it. I’d wait another five hundred years if I had to, if it led me to you.’
When he finished inside of her, Nesta held him close. If his wings pained him, Azriel did not let on. He merely, rested his head against her chest while she traced pictures on his skin with the tips of her fingers. His release dribbled from her but both were too tired to clean up properly. There was something sordid yet enticing about his scent covering her. Nesta didn’t want to wash it away. She was his. She would die and the whole world would know she belonged to Azriel.
Faintly, she could make out Rhysand’s voice on the other side of the tent speaking low to Cassian, his voice the rumble of a storm in return. The others had returned to camp after a busy day and night spent evacuating as many mortals as they could. Nesta could only pray that they would be safe, wherever they were.
Azriel had fallen asleep wrapped in her arms after another dosage of the pain remedy. She held him tightly, unwilling to let herself fall asleep. If she fell asleep that meant the dawn would come sooner. Nesta could not let him go. Could not leave him yet.
Fate couldn’t bring them together only to part them so soon, could it?
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musicalmoritz · 2 days
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what are your thoughts on hananene?
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I’m so glad you asked this!! Some people assume I hate HanaNene because I ship Nene with Aoi and I don’t post about it as much as Aoi//Aoi, but that could not be further from the truth. When I first watched the anime I absolutely adored HanaNene, they were my favorite ship for a hot second there (though I was saving that spot for Mitsuba and Kou, and it was also Sakura and Natsuhiko for like a day. I never expected it to be the plant lesbians lol)
My love for HanaNene tends to be more mild when I’m not actively reading about them. I have never and will never dislike them, but I don’t think about them as consistently as some of the other ships (though I think of them more than some others). Then I read a scene of them in the manga and I’m abruptly reminded of why they’re one of my favorite TBHK ships. This also applies to when I’m rewatching either of the animes or when I get in the rare mood to read fan fiction for them
The thing that initially stole my heart was how weird they are. Their whole relationship is odd, it’s like if Aladdin got with the Genie. The first chapter doesn’t have anything romantic between them up until the very end and if you didn’t know they were love interests, you’d assume he was meant to be her goofy sidekick. And then we start the gag of him flirting with her while she’s very adamant about him being Not Her Type. But her relationship with him is still so different from everybody else, she’s usually so self-centered but with Hanako she notices things about him and makes efforts to make him feel better (ex: deciding to be his friend in the mokke chapter). Sure, there are still things she misses about him, Teru had to be the one to tell her he was unhappy in the new timeline. But she’s significantly better at looking out for Hanako than she is with everybody else, because he’s so important to her. She gives him time to open up about his past because she knows he’s not ready for it, she wants to be the one to confess to him because he deserves to feel loved. With heterosexual relationships I’m mainly focused on what the woman is feeling/experiencing and HanaNene is such an interesting ship for Nene! It gives her a lot of important development and stands out from her other crushes and ships. She had cheesy romantic fantasies about him but she doesn’t act like a blushing fangirl, it’s real love and we get to see a more mature side of her when they’re together
I have so many favorite moments for them so I’m gonna list them all now because I’ve been waiting for an excuse to do so. The end of the Picture Perfect arc where Nene asked Hanako if he wanted to trap her and he said “of course not, how could you even think that?” The Confession Tree chapter as a whole, it’s my favorite early chapter by far. When Hanako told Nene she’s cute when she’s smiling. When he tucked her into bed at Sumire’s house. I don’t remember when this was but when Nene made some big statement on the roof and then she was like “as a friend ofc.” When she kissed him on the cheek duh that was so cute. That convo they had in the classroom during the Picture Perfect arc. Their first kiss but that’s like a given everybody loves that scene. Wow. HanaNene.
I will say that I prefer their dynamic with Amane’s personality but I’m not one of the people who separates those ships entirely, I think people who do sort of miss the point of Hanako’s character. Amane is still a part of him, there are many scenes in present times when he acts like his old self. Sure, he’s changed over the years, but he can’t fully become a different person the way humans often do because he is forever that same 13 y/o boy. So if you were to ask me “HanaNene or Amanene,” I’d say both. I do prefer to call him Amane tho bcuz it’s such a pretty name. Amane. Amane. Amane. Pretend you can hear it, it’s gorgeous
Similar to how I will never slander Aoi and Akane for Aoi and Nene, I’ll never slander Hanako and Nene in favor of them either. I love all the canon ships so I’ll never be the type of fan to put them down in order to justify my fanon ones. I don’t need to do this because I have good reasons for liking fanon pairings, I can back them up without having to put down another ship. If you have to put down another ship in order to make yours look good, it’s probably not that great on its own
Also for headcanons. They are t4t and bi4bi to me, that’s just how it’s gotta be. Toilet-Bound Woke-Kun. Woke-Bound Hanako-Kun. Toilet-Woke Hanako-Kun. Much to ponder
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ambiguouslady42 · 2 days
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Pairing: Hajime Umimeya x Chubby Fem! Reader
Genre: Fluff (for the time being), MDNI (I will block you)
Synopsis: It's cold and rainy. The Bofurin boys stop by for some good soup!
Tags: @pixelcafe-network, @jellyfishsart, @hayatoseyepatch, @awkwardchick87, @missvulpix212, @cottonlemonade
Note: Thank you Ele and Sam, my amazing beta readers.
Chapter 2: Pastina Soup
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Dividers by: @cafekitsune
Chapter 1
It was rainy today. Not much foot traffic could be seen from the restaurant’s window. You figured this was natural because along with this rain, it’s freezing. You hate rainy days; you hate the water, but mostly because there’s a loneliness that comes with it. You moved away from home to find adventure, but you’re yet to feel that moment where you feel like you are a part of something or someone.  
The window finally got fixed before the opening day. You felt blessed to be in a community like the one in Makochi. Everyone was helpful and warm. The cost of the repairs also didn’t break the bank, so you felt lucky as far as chaos went. Your restaurant opened this week, and you’re delighted to have regulars. Your staples are lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, and tiramisu to name a few. You wanted to try having a weekly menu to experiment more The dishes were praised not only for their taste but for the sense of comfort that they bring. Tachibana came by to try your dishes and in return, she invited you to have lunch with her during the day. The boys were right, her omelette rice is to die for.
Speaking of the boys, you haven’t seen them as of late. You worry and think if there was something that you could have done to push them away. You shake your head and quell your worries with the likely outcome that they were dealing with other pressing business.
As you’re observing from the warmth of your restaurant you notice those specific jackets that you became familiar with. You notice Sakura at the front, with a glare on his face. From that instant, you run outside, without a jacket. Sakura fails to notice you, but then you see two other individuals trailing behind him. 
“Hey! Sakura!”, you call out “Sakura! Can you hear me?!” 
Sakura turns around to look at you and he instantly is startled that you would even call out to him. His two companions turn around and are as polite as ever. You notice that one of the boys has a blondish tinge to their hair, but he has a warm smile that you can’t be able to forget. The other has an eyepatch, but his manners don’t escape him.
“Hello there! I’m Suo! You must be the so-and-so we heard so much about last week.” He proceeds to continue smiling at you.
“Oh yeah! Your friend was such a big help to me last week. He came to my aid when I needed him. I am still grateful to him.” you tell him with a sense of pride
“I’m glad to hear that.” Suo proceeds to look in the direction of the blonde. 
“Oh…right! I’m Nirei, it’s very nice to meet you!”  he says with a bubbly demeanour.
The rain is starting to pick up and you’re beginning to feel cold. You’re elated to see the familiar faces, but you are yet to see the one who caught your attention last week; Hajime Umemiya. Suddenly you start to see a crowd of them walking right behind them. You notice that some of them are bruised and bandaged up. Right there in the crowd, you see him. Your heart begins to race just a little. You see the warm smile and he’s laughing amongst what you assume are his friends. 
“Hey, listen! I know it’s cold out and it’s raining, would you want to come inside and I could fix you something to eat!” you say as loud as you can so everyone can hear you.
“There wasn’t any need to shout,” Sakura grumbles as he makes his way inside the restaurant. 
“Thank you kindly.” follows Suo. Nirei smiles and nods politely. When they follow, the entire crew decides to come by, including him.
“Hey! Thank you so much for inviting us. Listen, I thought it would be a great idea to bring these to you!” Umemiya hands you some zucchini and eggplant. It almost feels like a bouquet in the way that you’re holding them. “I grew them myself and thought you might want to make something with them,” he says excitedly to you. 
Your body begins to surge with warmth, but you realize that you’re still outside. You slightly shiver and Umemiya observes this. “Let’s get you inside! Don’t want you to catch a cold!”, He says in his chipper demeanor. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as he opens the door to lead you inside. It’s refreshing to experience this kind of personality. One that is outgoing, chipper, and makes you feel like there’s an exciting surprise around the corner. He lets go of you, but you feel like his touch lingers.
As you’re inside and feel the warmth in your body, you observe the large number of men who are drenched from being outside in the rain. Concerned that they can catch a cold, you quickly decide to prepare pastina soup. You have some broth in storage; it’s time to get to work! As far as your beautiful bouquet of vegetables, you quickly try to think of what you can make. A-ha! You figure out you can fry these zucchini, and make a quick eggplant parmigiana. Of course, let’s also make some spaghetti. Being able to think on your toes allows you to become efficient in a kitchen. You hear the chatter and laughter from the inside of the kitchen. You hear the kitchen door open. “You can’t be back here right now, it’ll be another while before everything is ready”, as you’re chopping up the vegetables and setting the cooking oil to an optimum temperature on the stove. 
“I'm here to help.” the familiar voice says softly. 
“Oh, Umemiya, it’s you.” giving him a small smile. “Oh I couldn’t let you help me, you’re my guest.” 
His smile remains consistent. “I insist”, as you see him grabbing a spare apron that you have in the kitchen. “How can I help?”
You know you are smitten by the way that he is proactive. A man wanting to be proactive in your kitchen is the sure way to anyone’s heart. “If you’d like to help, start by turning on the oven that’s over there. You will want it at about 400° F. Next, you can take over chopping, while I check on the oil. We will be frying up this lovely zucchini. I’ll deal with the eggplant on my own.” 
“Yes, ma’am!” Umemiya salutes you. Having the majority of the zucchini chopped, you begin to fry the vegetable, making sure that it won’t burn. Some of the oil jumps and it grazes your hand, but you walk it off as there is too much to do.
“You okay?!” Umemiya asks. 
“Of course, this is nothing.” He is amazed and shocked at how you tolerate pain. You’re running back and forth between chopping and patting down the eggplant. “You have nothing to worry about! This is normal and it just tells me to lower the heat.” you smile at him as a way to confirm that he has nothing to worry about. He takes this as a sign to stop pressing the matter. He would do the same if he were in your position. 
“So what were you and your comrades doing out there?” you ask him as you’re laying the eggplant in a baking dish.
“Ah, that. We were dealing with a certain group and we just needed to have a conversation with them. I feel it was very productive, and there’s no more to that now!” Umemiya tells you with that smile that could melt millions of hearts. 
“Is that everything that happened?” you ask him in a playful tone. You walk just past him to try to reach for some necessary spices. However, you realize that they’re way too high up for your reach. “Why did I place this so high up? What was I thinking”, you said to yourself. “Need any help with that?” he asks as he is standing behind you. 
“Yes, do you mind reaching for that? Sorry, just vertically challenged.”, you point to what you need. He stands next to you. You realize that he’s standing very close to you; you can smell his musk. It has a tinge of sweetness with herbs; it’s inviting to you. The cheeks on your face begin to turn red. He grabs the spices with ease and turns to see you. “Is this everything that you need?”, with such a reassuring smile. “Yeah…thanks”, you say quietly. 
Using the spices, you add them to your broth. At this point, you know you wouldn’t mind having a bowl of this soup. The smell begins to linger in the air and it starts to travel outside of the kitchen door.
“Mmm, what’s that smell?!”, someone can be heard from outside. 
“It’s almost ready!”, you say as loudly as you can to be heard. You take note of what’s already ready to be served. Course 1: soup and fried zucchini. As you are plating everything to your liking, Umemiya grabs a tray and places the bowls of soup to be served. “Oh wait! You don’t have to do that! I can do it!” you shout at him as he’s walking away. “Nonsense, I said I would help!” he retorts back as he’s already out the door. 
“Okay! Okay! I got soup ready to go. Take your time!” Umemiya can be heard saying joyously to his comrades. 
Nirei is the first to take a sip of the soup. “Oh my goodness! This is the best soup I’ve ever had!” Within seconds, he takes out his notebook and pen to write down what notes he can taste. Suo who is sitting next to him, slowly takes his sips and quietly nods his head to agree with Nirei. Sakura proceeds to follow their lead. His eyes open wide, but refuses to comment on the taste. His comrades take note of his face turning bright red.
“Is something bothering you?” asks Nirei.
“NO! What are you talking about?!” Sakura retorts back as he takes another sip of the soup.  
You step out of the kitchen to check in on how everyone is enjoying their soup. You take notice that Umemiya has not yet had his portion. He’s still standing with his hands behind his back as if he’s waiting for the next command. 
“Would you like to take a seat and have some food?” you ask him.
“No, I’d rather help. I’m kind of looking forward to having my meal with someone.” He’s looking at you with those soft, grey eyes and a gentle smile. This time, you’re feeling something in your stomach flutter. You realize that he’s talking about you. 
“If you insist, Ume” you turn around and head back to the kitchen. 
The main course will include small plates of spaghetti and your eggplant parmigiana. You feel like you outdid yourself preparing the eggplant as you take a small bite to see if it’s missing anything. Umemiya comes to meet you in the kitchen to help with the plating process. “Would you like to taste the eggplant you gifted me?” you ask him.
“Did you like it?!” he asks you excitedly.
“Just try it.” You’re giggling a bit as you prepare a clean spoon for tasting.
“I knew this would come in handy for you!” He grins excitedly.
“Thanks again. It was really sweet for you to bring me some vegetables,” you respond to him. 
“I finally found someone who I think will appreciate the vegetables that I care so much for in my garden,” he responds to you. 
“I’d love to be able to see it sometime..,” you tell him with a shy smile.
“Just let me know when and we’ll make it happen.” he grins to you.
You watch him taste your parmigiana and the grin and the way his eyes glow confirm that you achieved your desired outcome. As you finish plating everything, Umemiya is quick to deliver this to your guests. 
You step out to see the constant glow on your guest's faces. You notice that Nirei is once again writing in his notebook. You step right behind him to take a glance at what he’s writing down. He notices the shadow cast behind him. “Whatcha writing down?” you ask. 
“Oh! Um, um, it’s nothing! Really!” Nirei is panicking. 
“No no, I just want to know!” you smile at him reassuringly. As Nireihands you the notebook at where he’s been writing. You notice that he’s been trying to find the notes in your soup and is trying to write down the possible ingredients in your pasta sauce. 
“If you wanted to know what I put in my dishes, you just need to ask!” you tell him. 
“Really?! Are your recipes not a secret?” he asks earnestly.
“Absolutely not! I just prepare everything as I’ve learned it as I travelled around. Of course, I modify things to my liking.” Everyone suddenly starts looking in your direction as you're excitedly talking about the places you’ve been. As you notice the gazes, you stop. You look around and see that Umemiya is looking towards you with that smile. You turn bright red and walk away back into the kitchen. He follows right behind you.  
To distract yourself, you start to prepare your serving of food. Your stomach is grumbling; you can’t remember the last time you ate. Your hands are shaking as you try to grab the ladle for the soup. “Here, let me help with that.” Umemiya grabs the ladle from you. “I look forward to hearing all about your adventures and why you ended up here.”
“I’d love to tell you about everything,” you say quietly.
“Wonderful! I look forward to it!” that reassuring grin appears. 
You realize that there’s a lot of food that you need to be able to eat. You don’t know if you’ll be able to finish it all.
“Don’t worry, whatever you don’t finish, I’ll make sure to help you. Your wonderful food shouldn’t go to waste!” he tells you. You observe Umemiya stepping out of the kitchen with your meals. You check to see that everything is off. He places your servings near the table closest to the window, away from everyone else. You sit right across from him. You're both smiling at each other as you place a napkin on your lap. 
“So tell me where you came from before Makochi?”
He looks at you intently, curious why someone as adorable as you would move here. He takes a sip of the soup; just as he thought: heart-warming and comforting, just like you.
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gatorbites-imagines · 24 hours
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Helloooo, I can request omega bakugou helping his mate/alpha ace reader with their rut? I thought it might be sfw since u don't feel like writing smut atp :3
Omega Katsuki Bakugou x Ace Alpha male reader
Headcanons
(aged up characters, obviously)
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Seeing ace requests in my inbox always make my smile because, hey, that’s me. Where my ace homies at. I’ve very rarely written omegaverse before, but I got so much worldbuilding about it, if you guys are interested.
I have too much worldbuilding and ideas about Omegaverse, so this is a little out of the norm for your usual smut filled rut plot.
For omegaverse, I never imagine that heats or ruts turn you into a horny breeding crazed animal. Yes, with your mate you will feel a lot more arousal and might have moments where you become fueled by your desires, but the majority can still control themselves.
For you, who’s Ace as well, the breeding part isn’t present more than your bodies instincts, but its nothing extreme. It feels the same as when you are really hungry. Sure, the feeling is there, but you can easily go about your day and not let it bother you.
But ruts do more than just make you want to have a lot of pups and crawl all over your omega, even if your omega is as hot as Katsuki is. It tends to cause a lot of stress on the body, from cramping muscles to overheating, dehydration, pacing and other factors that could lead to stress.
So, in Katsuki’s situation, his job during your ruts is mainly to take care of you. To make sure you’re eating and drinking enough fluids. That you aren’t overheating by patting you down with a cold cloth or using ice packs, or even making you cold baths.
He treats it a lot like a very horribly cold for the most part. Sure, your scent also makes him slick up a little and makes his own scent sweeter and riper, but Katsuki is still clear headed and more focused on taking care of you. Especially when he knows you do the same for him when he has heats.
I imagine Katsuki is still his usual snappy growly self, but he doesn’t yell, since ruts also makes your hearing more sensitive. Instead, he just grumbles a lot. With a lot of insults that has no heat thrown in, just because its Katsuki.
As an alpha, you don’t really need a nest, but you bet your damn ass Katsuki makes you one. And only with the best rut materials out there. He won’t accept anything but the best, and Katsuki honestly stresses more about your rut nest than he does his own heat nest.
It reaches a point where, during the early stages of your rut, you just kinda have to thrown yourself in it and show him you like it and accept it.
I could imagine Katsuki worrying a lot, since he knows your ace and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his own scent. Does it bother you that he starts smelling like preheat? Does it make your rut worse? Better? Does he need to leave?
He would also fear crawling into the nest with you, at least in the beginning. After you pull him in multiple times, or tell him to get in, he starts to calm down. You can’t stop him from worrying though, it’s in his blood.
Being ace also doesn’t mean you don’t feel arousal and the like, so if you need to get off, he’s not gonna stop you, and wont touch you unless you want him too. Katsuki knows it won’t go farther than just some touching, if it even gets to that, and he’s more than satisfied.
Having and Ace partner honestly probably helps take some of the stress of his shoulders. He knows you won’t have the same expectations as some other alphas, that he needs to give up on his hero career and be a “good” omega.
Which is also why he’s ready to bend himself backwards to make sure you are comfortable during your rut. Even if staying nearby and taking as much care of you as possible pushes him into preheat, Katsuki is strong enough mentally to keep it bottled up until your rut it over.
This does mean you end up having to take care of him afterwards too, and you gotta call in favors with your friends to cover Katsuki’s patrols, since he didn’t expect to go into heat.
But all in all, ruts with Katsuki are a very planned out affair. Sure, you feel miserable and like you’re boiling on the inside, never able to find a comfortable sleeping position, and like you need to claw your own flesh off. But at least Katsuki is by your side the entire time, ready to hold your hand or hold you as a whole if you need too.
You do have to put up with his nagging though, but you know its just how he shows affection, so in the end it makes you purr at him. Which just gets Katsuki to get all flustered and pretty.
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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I don’t want to have to start a whole new journal because of this man but genuinely there’s no other way to get these thoughts out
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herawell · 3 months
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#negativity cw#mother mention cw#I’ve been in a funk since visiting my parents this weekend#And my mom ranted about my dad and her potential plans for divorce#It’s not the only reason I’m upset#I’ve got feelings about my job performance and my social life which aren’t helping#But being reminded of their marital woes feels like it’s brought everything else up#Half of me wants to ask my mom to not bring it up again#Which I know is a reasonable boundary to ask#But I’m afraid of the repercussions#She’ll respect it#But she’ll respect me less#Which should be okay since I’m an adult#But my mom is my closest confidante (which goes back to the friends thing)#I don’t have too many close friends irl#And even if that weren’t the case#I don’t want to poison the well#ugh#I really really really wish she hadn’t told me#She talked about how she’s glad in this country you can ‘take a man to the cleaners’#And she’s keeping her cards close to her chest so he doesn’t ‘hide the money’#And I know his behavior and inaction are largely responsible for the breakdown of the marriage#But now I feel like I’m betraying him by keeping quiet about it#And I can’t tell my dad because I don’t know if he would keep it to himself if push comes to shove#And it would nuke my relationship with my mom from external orbit#I have to spend Wed evening and Thurs with my parents#And I’m thinking of telling her tonight I don’t want to hear any more about it#We’ll have to see how it goes#But I can’t handle this tension#if she wants to vent about it she can talk to her friends or a therapist or a lawyer or whatever
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just-rogi · 6 months
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#like I’m sorry#I love my best friend so so so much and she’s perfect and kind and has gone above and beyond to be rational and to be there for me#and I get it she’s an autistic woman and has faced adversity and has had to go on medical leave and that’s hard#and I’m not being dismissive of her struggles#but it makes me so angry because her parents unconditionally love her and her siblings and have always made her feel that way#and has never worried about money as a kid#and yeah her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect of course#but she literally cannot understand domestic violence beyond just reading about it in a book#like she did everything she can to understand and relate#but sometimes I want to scream because I feel so alone#because no one in my life fucking understands why I’m the way I am#and I’ve been struggling the past two months really badly with coping#I’ve had to go to the doctor to ask about PTSD and not like the tik tok OWO kind#but the I was in a car crash as a kid with my dad as a drunk driver and I keep getting flashbacks in my daily life to being a small child#that are impacting by daily life and interactions#and like I feel so fucking alone#and to hear from my friends ‘your right this is horrible and toxic but lots of people go through this’ ISNT FUCKING HELPING#I don’t want to hear that it’s normal I want to feel fucking safe in my bedroom without my mother blowing up my phone or calling the cops#I am unwell and I’m so stressed and I’m so sick and I can’t cope with this and none of the therapists I’ve tried to find handle ptsd#especially not therapists of color#I’m angry and I’ve been getting worse over the past two months#and not that it matters but due to ^^^ reasons my birthday has always been insanely fucking bad for me#like depression watch bad. when I turned twenty I was vividly hallucinating while walking around campus for a week straight having#flashbacks in class and I had to be taken out of the auditorium because I was physically unwell and couldn’t stop crying and shaking#and I told my friend I didn’t want to celebrate I just wanted to sit on her couch and not be alone and she fucking ditched me#because an emergency with a different friend came up the night before#like I have a history of suicidal ideation traumatic flashbacks eating disorders and self harm and I’m asking you to be with me on a very#upsetting day and you call me the night before telling me we have to cancel because another friend is having a bigger crisis#and like you don’t even feel a little bad about it??#I’m just upset and scared and I’ve got a doctors appointment tomorrow and I’m not in reality right now and that’s scary
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sourkitsch · 8 months
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Two things that are true at once:
I am not nearly as mentally ill as I’ve convinced myself I am
I am far sicker than I’ve convinced my friends that I am
#:(#my friend and I were talking about post grad plans and we were talking about how our friend is gonna move in w them + their partner#and eventually we got onto how I’m not confident on my ability to pay rent on place by myself#and then they were like omg wait we were actually just looking at a place w 3 bedrooms and thinking about who else we would want to live w#and I literally brushed them off by saying ‘oh no I’m a nightmare to live with’ and they were like no omg it would be so great!!!!!!#it would not be great. and I am hoping whatever these plans are fall through so I don’t have to say anything about it#because I cannot have roommates. my friends have only encountered my ptsd twice and I managed it well enough that I’m pretty sure#no one noticed. but it’s because the vast majority of my triggers are domestic. when I sleep over my moms house I sleep in a bedroom#all the way down the hall away from everything because I cannot hear people’s footsteps by my door or I freak the fuck out#and just the idea of people drinking or doing drugs in a place I live makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up#I’ve tried living in a single dorm before and that was bad enough that I had to move off of campus my sophomore year#I just really really really don’t want to be serious and tell them I can’t#because I know it would be unfair to all of us#I hate that I view myself as a punishment for other people but I know it’s because it is. I would be that crazy roommate that’s brought up#for years afterwards. and it sucks because I like this people even if I know not to trust them#it’s also now a pattern that when I bring something up about me not being normal people think it’s a joke. which maybe it’s my fault#I really need to go back to therapy but do not have the bandwidth to go over the incest thing with a new person right now
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