#wars' scarf gets to be useful

[weepingtalecowboy]

Oracle of ages is my fav for this one single reason

It is the fact that the enemies are throwing time attacks at you every four attacks (the bosses that is) you deflect them back to reveal their weak spots but the cutest thing happens if you get hit

Look at this lil baby

He is perfect

He is itty bitty

My lil guy… getting hunted down by a boss in the arena while a literal baby who can just weakly crawl away from stuff and looks like it is about to start crying

Like that has to be traumatizing for a baby to experience

So Fanfic prompt : considering that linked universe once again has time travel in it imagine what would happen if legend goes baby mode

Like not even because of dink but because wind messed around with the phantom sword and while the rest of the chain stopped in time legend being incredibly vulnerable to time displacements ends up a baby again

And even funnier if wind and legend are separated from the chain during the event and wind gets to be busy regretting everything that led to his teen parent life with a ungodly fast baby that crawls like it was born to do just that (because it would be so much more horrifying if Legend actually turned into a baby during the time blasts… because that way the trauma will be integrated into him from existence on lol)

the baby has an amount of survival instincts that no baby should reasonably have

No baby should have such a feud with adults and knights especially ( wars got bitten by a tooth less baby legend when they reunited… that baby hates him)

He dodges way to well for a mere infant (you gotta be a god because you are exclusively baby link in active combat)

He is incredibly quite and very much wants to hide all the time

He is terrified of being picked up by anyone (that was not fun for wind )

He screams with actual terror when he actually decides to voice any kind of opinions (that wasn’t fun for wind either but at least later the chain got to suffer and go deaf alongside him )

(not the baby crying of mild inconvenience but the one where they actually sound like they are hurting ,the intense one that makes one panic)

He is a minimalist to the core , literally needs nothing to be content with existing (he got strapped to wars via scarf panicked until he realized that everything isn’t ending still… then didn’t give a sound for several hours,….wars was obviously worried…that ain’t baby behavior)

Like only be given a bottle and he never complains about anything afterwards until he is in literal danger of starving or in pain(that one is messed up but meant that wind didn’t have to panic like crazy )

But that really makes one wonder if he wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had been a hero since he was in diapers

And nobody wants to consider it

That doesn’t sound acceptable everyone paled and was sick by this thought

[critterbitter]

The twins and their starters may have grown slightly taller, but their love of shenanigans have tripled, no, quadrupled in size.

On that note did you know Eelectrik has a glow animation?? Perfect nightlight eel. Absolute gold standard for creature. Click here for the masterlist!

Bonus shitpost under cut ft @birdsaretoddlers’s incredible take.

(plus a fanfic drabble that birds did while we were discussing in chat! Check out their funny writing @birdsaretoddlers) “Lam lam pentttt. Lam.”

“Language. I am not calling them that. This is a civil discussion about the capacity of a 284 Berkshire’s firebox, not a playground argument.”

“Lammm Pent.”

“If you possess my phone I will have to put you in time-out in your ball, and neither of us will like that.”

The argument over a literal online flame war was cut short by the door flying open, one of the hinges breaking off with the force and flying somewhere into the aether, never to be seen again. Or at least, not without a strong magnet.

Emmet stood there, proudly, holding his newly-evolved Eelektrik, his grin a mile wide. Ingo picked his heart up out of his femoral artery, where it had lodged itself, and gently removed Lampent from where she hid, hanging over his shoulder. Emmet stood there, eyes twinkling, clearly ready to perform the coveted Bit. Ingo opened his mouth, got halfway through a word, and his twin took the proffered delight of cutting him off.

“I am Emmet and I discovered something INCREDIBLE. INGO LOOK.”

Ingo looked, because what else was he going to do? He would allow his twin to complete his circus act, it was only proper and polite. Eelektrik trilled with delight. Emmet twirled like the best of Nimbasan runway models, clearly wrestling his eel, cooing platitudes to it as he writhed and squirmed to get it into position.

“Me beautiful slimy baby, my beloved pool noodle, my beeesstt conductor!~” Doing something that could generously be called ‘dislocating his shoulders’, Emmet managed to get his eel flipped up and around his neck. He flopped forwards, bonelessly, tipping his hat and giggling madly. He was grinning harder than normal. Ingo was a little scared.

“But now, Eelektrik can do MORE. OBSERVE.”

He threw his shoulders back, standing up as tall as he could, somehow not throwing himself ass-first onto the floor as the fifty pounds of eel he was currently deadlifting remained stationary over his neck. Emmet’s arms flew upwards and out, rocking back and forth in jazz hands. Eelektrik frilled its fans, made another happy little buzz and-

"Eelektrik boa."

“DRAGONS ALMIGHTY. THE EEL GLOWS.”

There it was, clear as day. Eelektrik flashed it’s spots in natural bioluminescence, blinking like a neon sign. Bright beautiful yellow and clearly charged, Emmet’s hair stood on end, pushing his hat an inch off his head. They blinked in a rhythmic, pulsing manner. It was almost hypnotizing to watch, in a way. Ingo snapped back to reality, realizing his mouth had dropped open and Lampent had ceased questing for his Pokedex. Recognizing Emmet was looking for a response, he threw his arm out in a thumbs-up so fast his arm hurt, snapping his suspender against his neck.

“Brrravo! Ten out of ten! Majestic eel scarf!” He praised, Emmet’s expression only growing further full of himself and his achievement, which was well deserved. Lampent echoed the sentiment, flashing back at Eelektrik in response.

Now that both Pokemon could glow, they’d never have a problem in the caves again!

[twilightkitkat]

Can we talk about the dynamics of Logan "I eat anything and scarf it down immediately" Howlett and Wade "I only eat the same 10 foods in different fonts" Wilson?

Logan is used to living without. Even as a child, he had to get by when he was sick with the food his family could afford. Once he joined the military, he had to survive on the limited rations he was given. He didn't have room to be picky—he either ate what he was given or didn't eat at all. And in war, he had to eat eventually.

His preferences didn't matter. He was always treated as a soldier, a weapon, and his food reflected that. He'd get enough protein and carbohydrates to fuel his power but that was it. Food was for functional use, not to be enjoyed. It didn't matter if it tasted disgusting, he just inhaled it so the taste wouldn't linger.

He's also an extremely quick eater. He's feral and ravenous when hungry, tearing into meat with his claws and hands. He lived in the army, in the mountains, through the Great Depression, and in dangerous situations where he hunted for himself. To him, food is a scarce resource and if you don't eat it while you can, you might not have it tomorrow. So he takes gigantic bites and tears into food no matter how bland and unappealing it was because that's all he knows. His standards for food are just that it has to have nutrients and not be poisoned.

Wade, on the other hand, is more picky. If he had to choose between eating something he hates or not eating, he'd rather just starve. At first, in the army, he did eat what was given to him even if he disliked it, but it was purely for survival. He choked it down even when it made him vaguely nauseous and disgusted. But later, he'd hoard stashes of his own food that he managed to steal or barter for or bet on. It was better to be hungry most of the time than satiate his hunger temporarily only to fight to keep it down and feel sick the entire day.

The second he has the freedom to pick his own food, he sticks to things he knows he likes. That he feels comfortable with. He's picky about brands and specific types of food and how it has to be cooked or made, but he manages. He can normally find something on the menu he's OK with, even if he often has order a kid's meal. But most places have grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken tenders and macaroni, and people chalk it up to him being childish and silly, so nobody pays much attention.

Wade sees food as one of the only things he can control. He's been devoid of true choice for most of his life. He couldn't control getting cancer or being forced to turn into a horrific mutant. He couldn't save his relationship with Vanessa. When everything around him was collapsing, he hyperfixated on the little things he could control like food or clothing.

The two, together, learn to have a healthier relationship with food.

Logan was the first person to truly pay attention to Wade. To see which foods he liked and which he picked at and grimaced towards when nobody was looking. When Logan abruptly said he'd cook dinner one day, Wade was nervous, but nearly started bawling when Logan made homemade chicken tenders and macncheese. He noticed. He cared.

It was the first time Wade could be open and let someone see he was genuinely affected by food instead of him just playing it up as a lunatic. And Logan took him seriously and didn't make fun of him. He learned recipes to make the foods Wade liked but healthier and more balanced. He helped Wade finally get the nutrients he needed consistently without feeling sick to his stomach.

And Wade helped Logan too.

Logan was never allowed to have preferences. To have a sweet tooth or ask for more. To expect quality. But here Wade was, buying him some apple cinnamon-filled pastry just because he looked at it too long in the store.

Logan was never allowed to have dessert. To have sweet food just for the sake of it even after a meal. His eyes become wet as he clutches the pastry between his shaking hands and takes a bite. He's allowed this. To have the comforts in life. To eat just because it tasted good.

Someone cared about him enough to buy him what he wanted just because he'd enjoy them, not just to keep him functioning as a tool. Wade treated him as human. Like he was precious. Like he deserved the nice things in life.

And Wade reminds him of this. He stocks their kitchen with desserts that Logan likes, because he knows that Logan secretly enjoys sweet things. He sees the way he sniffs the air and wanders close to the fresh-baked goods of a bakery. He keeps snacks around the house, so Logan can eat whenever he want. Even if it isn't a "necessary meal."

And Wade learns to be more comfortable and try new variations of foods he likes that Logan makes. Because Logan knows the textures and flavors he hates and is somehow able to create a few new dishes entirely that he likes. He stops dreading mealtime or trying new foods. And Wade feels comfortable just trying the food without pressure, knowing that he can just not finish it if he doesn't want to and that someone else will.

And Logan learns to let himself enjoy eating again. To see it as less of a chore for the maintenance of his body and more as an enjoyable activity. Wade reminds him that he can eat just because he wants to and that it's OK to have preferences and ask for things. Logan feels well cared for. Pampered, almost. And he basks in the feeling of being wanted and loved and being allowed to express it through cooking and food.

[00valentina-writes00]

could i request leaving ambessa with your child? like, say reader is a single mom and she needs a break (whether to go nap or treat herself to dinner) and you leave your toddler in her care. could we get hcs on that? i feel like with having kids of her own shed know how to take care of a toddler, and her old age had made her juuust a bit softer

Ahem I’m in love with this-

✞⛧ AMBESSA TAKING CARE OF YOUR GREMLIN ✞⛧

✞⛧ When you first ask Ambessa to watch your toddler, she raises an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re trusting me with your little whirlwind? Brave, my love.”

✞⛧ Despite her teasing, she agrees almost immediately. She knows you’ve been burning the candle at both ends and genuinely wants to give you a break.

✞⛧ She insists you take your time. “Go treat yourself,” she says firmly, “and don’t come back until you’ve properly relaxed.”

✞⛧ Ambessa approaches the situation with a blend of military efficiency and surprising tenderness. She sees taking care of your toddler as a mission she’s determined to succeed in.

✞⛧ The toddler, of course, is thrilled to have Ambessa’s undivided attention. They immediately latch onto her, babbling excitedly about all the things they want to do.

✞⛧ She’s not fazed by their energy. Years of raising Mel have left her well-equipped to handle even the most chaotic little ones.

✞⛧ The first order of business is playtime, which Ambessa approaches with unexpected enthusiasm. She’s the type to fully commit, whether it’s pretending to be a dragon or helping them build a block fortress.

✞⛧ “If we’re building a castle,” she declares, “it will be the strongest castle. No weak structures here.” She even demonstrates how to stack the blocks more effectively, much to your toddler’s delight.

✞⛧ Snack time is a carefully coordinated affair. She slices fruit into neat pieces and arranges them on a plate like a tactical map. “Eat the apples first,” she advises. “They’re the scouts. Bananas are the cavalry—save them for the charge.”

✞⛧ Your toddler, of course, eats everything out of order. Ambessa just shakes her head and mutters, “Tactically unsound, but I admire the enthusiasm.”

✞⛧ She’s surprisingly patient when it comes to tantrums. If your toddler starts fussing, she kneels down to their level, her voice calm but firm. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she says. “We’ll figure it out together.”

✞⛧ If that doesn’t work, she scoops them up effortlessly and starts walking around the room, pointing out random objects to distract them.

✞⛧ Ambessa hums a deep, soothing tune—one of the lullabies she used to sing to Mel. It works like a charm, and your toddler’s cries quickly turn into giggles.

✞⛧ She’s a natural storyteller. Whether she’s recounting a toned-down version of her adventures or spinning a completely fantastical tale, your toddler is absolutely captivated.

✞⛧ She even uses her commanding voice for dramatic effect. “And then,” she says, eyes narrowing, “the brave knight charged into battle!” Your toddler gasps, completely entranced.

✞⛧ At one point, the toddler insists on playing dress-up, draping Ambessa in a colorful scarf and a plastic tiara. She allows it with a sigh, muttering, “I’m a general, not a doll,” but there’s a faint smile on her lips.

✞⛧ She secretly loves how much your toddler adores her. Whenever they call her “Bessa” or tug on her hand to show her something, her heart softens just a little more.

✞⛧ Bath time is a new kind of battlefield, but Ambessa handles it with ease. She keeps a towel at the ready like she’s preparing for combat and manages to keep both herself and the bathroom mostly dry.

✞⛧ When your toddler starts splashing her, she gives them a mock stern look. “Are you declaring war on me?” she asks, smirking. They laugh and splash her again, and she actually laughs back.

✞⛧ Once your toddler is clean and in their pajamas, Ambessa lets them sit on her lap while they read a story together. Her deep voice is surprisingly soothing as she reads aloud, occasionally changing her tone to mimic different characters.

✞⛧ She notices how your toddler starts to yawn and instinctively pulls them closer, letting them rest against her chest.

✞⛧ By the time you return, you find them both on the couch—your toddler asleep in her arms, and Ambessa looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen her.

✞⛧ “You’re back,” she says softly, careful not to wake the little one. “We managed just fine without you, but I suppose you’re allowed to reclaim them now.”

✞⛧ She teases you about needing a break but makes it clear she’s proud of you. “You’re doing well, raising this one. They’ve got your stubbornness, that’s for sure.”

✞⛧ Your toddler wakes up briefly, reaching for her with sleepy eyes. Ambessa’s expression softens as she gently brushes a stray hair from their face. “Go back to sleep, little warrior,” she murmurs.

[cum-aside]

Ok it’s not like I go here really, but I’ve been reading a bunch of DPxDC recently because it’s very good, and I had an idea that won’t go anywhere

The various gangs in Gotham have callsigns/uniforms or something right??? If not, they should, and imma say they do. Anyway. Redhood I think didn’t think too hard about what people in his gang on his turf should wear for identification purposes, but they sure did. And what they came up with was Red.

Wearing red in the vicinity of the ‘Bad Part’ of Gotham?? Part of the red hood gang. Generally head gear is the preferred method of wearing red. Red hats and beanies, red head scarfs and hijabs, red headbands, red masks. The idea has been communicated. To a certain point, wearing red even if you aren’t officially part of the gang is a great way to get an in with them, or be under protection if you’re the right age in the right area, as long as you’re willing to risk getting roped into low stakes gang activity, which can range from working the counter at money laundering sites to community service (guarding clinics and shelters and volunteering) to making deliveries to destroying certain hostile architecture. (Hood saves the real jobs with cops and shootings and turf disputes for actual members, that he knows the names faces and skills of, and who are at least above 18, but preferably over 20, and who wear real gear he supplies them with, not just whatever’s in their closet that’s red) (this does not entirely stop the smaller ‘members’ from getting into their own fights with the cops and turf wars, but Jason has found that giving them Something to do that feels like direct action helps curb those tendencies. And it’s not like those things aren’t things that don’t need doing, so it’s a win win. Mostly)

Danny, bless him, does not know any of this. But has been staying in the sketchier areas of Gotham because that’s where people don’t care how old you are or if your papers are real or not, and he absolutely does not want people looking into how old he is and wether his papers are real or not. He is also wearing an inadvisable and vaguely conspicuous amount of red. His converse are red, his signature baseball tee is white and red, and his hoodie is also red.

Clearly, this kid (he’s like 17) really wants in with the hood gang.

And eventually, they oblige him.

Random people will approach Danny and ask/tell him that them and a couple others are going somewhere to do (insert vaguely/definitely illegal job or act of community service here) and Danny, who is deeply directionless in life currently, and also pretty assured in his ability to eat danger for breakfast, and has never met an institutional authority he doesn’t disrespect at least a little bit, is totally down for some civil disobedience and chaotic good shenanigans.

And then it spirals from there. Like. A worrying amount.

It takes Danny actual months, almost a year, to realize that he’s been low key slow cooked into the criminal underbelly of Gotham, and like… he’s not really mad about it?? Honestly if he had a choice when he came to Gotham, he probably would have picked the redhood gang anyway. He just seems to vibe with them on a… Spiritual Level…

Hm

Anyway

Years go by, and while Danny doesn’t have the most going for him in terms of a normal person life, vis a vis higher education, official employment, health insurance, dating life, or any other benchmark one uses to measure the trajectory of their lives— Danny’s feeling pretty good! Jazz, Tucker, and Sam have all finagled their ways into Gotham, (Tucker has a WE internship, Jazz is working/doing work studies at Arkham, Sam does what she likes now that she is a legal adult and has her inheritance, and what she likes is environmental activism, and occasionally being spotted with fellow activist Damian Wayne, and someone who may or may not be poison ivy, sources differ) and Danny finds his obsession suspiciously well served as a hood goon. Hood hench? Redgoon? Hench hood?? Name pending, who cares.

Danny is also suspiciously good at, well, his job. One of the best runners, even when he gets caught and frisked they never seem to find the goods on him (they never do check IN him, but then why would they) very well liked at every volunteer spot they have, patient, kind, funny, good with old people, kids, bitter people, addicts and the homeless, the sick and injured. And yet also very competent in the field, when they finally let him do actually dangerous things. Act as protection detail to the working girls in the red light district, he’s very respectful, and very good at intimidation, de-escalation, and when push comes to shove, excellent in a fight. Knows when to keep pressing his advantage and when to make a retreat with whoever he’s guarding. Not afraid to fight scrappy, and presses through pain and fear like a true gothmite.

He gets so good at his not really a job job that he becomes essentially, Redhoods right hand man.

The rest of the bats are skeptical of this for several reasons. Because generally speaking, the people in Jason’s turf are not fans of the bats, but Jason does a lot of coordinating with them, and someone so close to him is going to pick that up eventually if they’re half as sharp and useful as Danny is. Other than that, secret identity issues, plus pit rage, plus the fact that Jason trusts pretty much nobody. But Jason has great feelings about this guy, he always feels more clear headed and even keeled when he’s around, and he helps Jason remember the community he’s trying to build, and the community he serves. Also he delegates and mother hens like nobody’s business, but Jason just really can’t seem to work up too much irritation about it.

It is around this time, however, that the past, and shady government organizations come knocking.

Perhaps the GIW has also noticed how ecto-contaminated and lawless Gotham is and decided that they could start doing research and experiments with its live and undead denizens instead of amity, where the portal has closed, and ghost activity is down since phantom disappeared. Or maybe the GIW has finally located phantom specifically and is interested in what they’re always interested in. Or maybe it’s various ghosts harassing Danny to take up the throne, which he’s been avoiding successfully, but having settled into a life routine that suites him his core has finally ‘settled’ (halfa cores fluctuate more than other cores due to the transient nature of being alive, but halfa people settle into lifelong patterns and relationships quicker than other people because of the static nature of being dead) he is mature enough by ghost standards to assume the throne, or at least begin preparing for it.

Regardless, danny is being tracked down for his childhood baggage’s extended warranty, and brings the entirety of the JL and almost all associated sidekicks, hero group spin-offs, and organizations into the thick of it.

Idk. I just got through Secretary Danny by DeathlySilent13 on ao3 and I thought man oh man wouldn’t it be neat if Danny got to be Jason’s second in command instead??? That could open up a lot of avenues I haven’t seen yet. I’m also just very curious about how the Jason’s runs his gang according to the fandom, and I think that with all the ACAB energy Danny has been assigned, he should have a little bit of community focused organized crime. As a treat. Like I said I don’t go here thou, I just needed to put this somewhere and see if it vibed with anybody besides me

[houseofmarcella]

dear god Albus Potter do you utterly haunt my thoughts

Just… Albus in the cursed child, for as mixed as people seem to be on it… Albus as the certified middle child who doesn’t have the cloak, doesn’t have the map, who doesn’t even have a family name?

Can you imagine little Al (not yet Albus because that’s a name he truly goes by once he has Scorpius) tucking himself into the cracks of the door as he hears his parents talking, hears his dad say it would have been better to know they were having two boys so they could have just called him Sirius

Al, getting teased by his invisible brother, yet seeing so distinctly that his father chose James over him for their family legacy

Al, who grew up on the filtered advice of a distant, out of reach mentor who he could never live up to. Not like James with his fun, his humor, or Lily with her love and her girlhood.

(Albus, who will hear Cedric called the spare and understand far too well what it’s like to be of secondary importance)

Al, who out of all his siblings looks the most like his father, a reflection to every family friend of what harry went through and an eternal reminder to himself and the world that he will always be his father’s legacy (he will look in the mirror for most of his adult life and see his father before he sees himself)

Al, age 11, seeking comfort on the train platform as everything changes around him and getting another lecture about bravery that he doesn’t feel he has

Al becoming Albus on that train, when the boy who would become the most important person in his life actually asks him, asks him what he wants to be called

Albus, under the sorting hat, struggling but thinking about who he wants to be outside of his family’s legacy and getting put in Slytherin for it

Albus, who grew up on war stories and hogwarts hyjinks staying up half his first night because he’s afraid of his peers, but doesn’t want them to know that because he so desperately and conflictingly wants to both fit in and stand out

Albus, who is bad at flying, humiliating himself in front of his peers, because he isn’t harry but isn’t Quidditch player Ginny either… Albus, who all the adults see as Harry’s extension; Albus, who struggles with charms like Lily never will, who can barely make his matchstick silver under the blue eyed portrait in the room, who struggles to parse through the moving and unequal words of wizarding textbooks, who attracts bullies like flies and doesn’t yet have his mother’s hexes to fight back

Albus, struggling to write that first letter home, to tell his parents and little sister that he’s different from them; Albus who doesn’t even get to tell them because James tells them first

Albus, who doesn’t get a green scarf and hat until after the first snow, unable to parse if it’s the color, the fact that he’s the second born, or maybe just that it’s him that made it come later than James’ had

Albus, who goes back home for Christmas and faces his father’s disapproval for befriending a Malfoy, his father’s distrust and attempts to assure his morality for befriending someone harry assumes cruel and antagonistic

Albus, having to hold awkward conversation with Rose and Ron and Hermione, because neither of the kids want their parents to know they’re not talking (they find out eventually, and though they’re nice about it, Albus knows they’ll always put Rose’s feelings first)

Albus, who is suddenly assumed more malicious and problem causing than he ever was before, who suddenly is seen as a prime person to scot the blame off to when things go wrong

Albus, who gets chosen after his sister (“just like her mother!”) during the family quidditch match; who gets meaningful looks from his Uncle Percy; whose Christmas sweaters are no longer red but never green; who suddenly cant seem to talk to his uncle ron anymore, someone who used to understand what it was like to be James’ brother

Albus potter who stradles the line of too Potter for Slytherin and too Slytherin for his family.

Albus Potter, who’s ambition has been squashed out by bullies and disregard and distrust, struggling to find his identity in a house and world that is still in the midst of undoing decades as an indoctrination machine…

[bokettochild]

Just saw the update!

So, first thoughts!

Gremlin Legend and Sky is something I am LIVING for. Sky's little look of approval as he stands between Wars and Legend after that little move is sending me!

(Wild is not impressed)

I also really love that JoJo played with Warriors' cape/scarf being capable of doing that, which is a major risk btw, but I love that we see it's potential now!

Like, Legend's timing is perfect (and I love that this confirms the Legend v. Wars dynamic we all love) especially considering Hyrule was literally talking about the same thing and you'd THINK Captain-War-Hero over here would be more cautious because of it (although the fact this implies Legend doesn't trigger Warriors danger sense is GREAT for the fluff fic writers like me!)

Time and Wars looking like disappointed parents though is brilliant

(Warriors with messy hair is so funny to me, help)

The continued portrayal of Time being too harsh with the boys, all tense after what happened to Twilight, that's great. i'm glad the consequences of past events are following them, it really makes this all feel linear!

I also am ALL HERE for the boys finding their differences! Warriors and Wild both admitting to being new to dungeon crawling and the monsters involved is a great thing we've all been playing with in fics, but making it cannon feels like validation :)

Also, Warriors being defensive of that, and maybe a bit prickly about their judgement, I think it shows a lot of him. he's got his pride,a although he's learned to tame it. He's feeling a bit miffed to realize how different he is, but doesn't want them seeing him as lesser as well (although they never would). I can also hear him using a clipped military sort of tone when speaking here. It's just the way his words are selected and strung together that makes it seem he's being very to the point, direct, and cold in his tone, which really sells the whole difference between a soldier and the "average nobody" that the rest of them were (ironic, since he's trying to act like the difference isn't a big deal but only further accentuates it this way).

Twilight being pleased that Epona is fine and just enjoying a meal made me grin so big though. He's all worried for his girl but she is, quite literally, happy as a horse over there LOL

Also, this bit:

recognition for Sky's right-handedness, my beloved! (JoJo is giving us all the easter eggs!)

The fact that the passage is too small to let them all fight though is a brilliant way of preventing some of our heavy hitters and more skilled heroes from being able to do anything though!

I like how that gives us the chance to see Time one-shot the foe and also gives him the impression that the rest are maybe not skilled enough to do this alone. WE all know they are, but they're a handicap to each other right now, and it's only further cementing in his mind that they're not ready for all this, which will make his overbearing speech and the judgement he casts on them in combat all the more an issue.

I mean, we all know the hero's shade was like that, but JoJo has shown Time acting this way from the start

(Deep Shadows P.2)

(Likelike)

So I guess we're in for more of that now, and most likely someone (probably Legend, as it's usually him, or Wind, who is very aware of judgement from teh rest) is definitely going to have to call him on it soon, maybe in the dungeon. Will that lead to some bonding with Time where he has to admit he cares and worries about them as though they're his own? I hope so!

Anyways, all this to say, we really are seeing how much they struggle to work together, so hopefully this dungoen will teach them all how to do that better, as Time mentioned earlier

(Dawn p.8)

Now, to finish it off!I would like to thank JoJo for giving us so many beautiful shots of Twi this time around. I'll admit it now, he's pretty darn fine <3

That said, I'm loving the Legend content too! i hope we get to see some more starring moments from him going forwards, what with him being the dungeon veteran and all! It's great seeing his childish/playful side these last few updates, but I'm really craving some veteran Legend right now >:)

[bowsnstrings]

Scorsese Baby Daddy!

Onyankopon x Black Coded Character ✌️🏾

Summary: Crashing out might be in the cards for tonight, but when things get hard, and hurtful words are said, how will Milana and Ony find a way to make things right?

Warning MDNI!: Fingering, Praise and dirty talk, Mentions of overstimulation, Mentions of food, Mentions of alcohol, Original character with original descriptions.

Masterlist:🍃

Word Count: 15.4k

Relationships were too complicated to even try at this point. Too secretive, too vulnerable, just too damn much. Especially with the way Ony had Milana so mad that she couldn’t even think, not after the argument the two of them got into first thing in the morning, while getting on campus of all places. A disaster already in the making, which only got worse as the day dragged on.

Things had actually started off so good, Milana’s alarm going off with its usual soft chime, breaking through the silence of her early morning. She groaned, reaching out from under her blanket to silence it. Her room was still dim, the early light creeping through the curtains, and she felt the pull of sleep that threatened to drag her back under. But she had a class to get to, and Ony would be picking her up soon.

With a heavy sigh, Milana pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes as she swung her legs off the bed and planted her feet on the cool floor. She stretched, feeling the remnants of sleep in her limbs, and glanced at the time on her phone: 8:15 AM. There was just enough time to get ready if she didn’t start lollygagging like she usually did, excited to see her man and enjoy his company before she had to actually work hard or study.

She shuffled over to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with an automatic rhythm, the minty freshness slowly waking her up. She splashed water on her face, using a warm washcloth to help her shake off the last bits of sleep, and then turned to face her reflection in the mirror. “Okay, Milana, let’s do this,” She muttered to herself, as if mentally preparing for battle. Knowing the situation going on under her bonnet, she definitely was about to go to war.

Nothing a nice hot shower couldn’t start to fix, shedding her sleep shirt and satin scarf to reveal her tangled curls that fell down her back. The warm steam swirling around as she jumped inside, closing the door behind her, letting out a small sigh as the heat enveloped her body. It felt good washing away the remnants of another night sleeping by herself, her phone calls with Ony being the only thing keeping her sane these days. Falling asleep in front of the screen while he was usually still up, counting money or bagging for customers while he soothed her with his voice.

She missed him, feeling like they’d been a little distant after being so close the first few weeks, nervous that their “honeymoon” stage might be fading away. The thought was only getting swept out of her mind under the cascading stream, feeling it relax her tense muscles. Milana closed her eyes for a moment, letting it all seep into her skin as she shampooed her hair, massaging herscalp with her fingertips, enjoying the way the lather slid through her thick hair. The scent of the shampoo, soft and filled with jasmine, lingered in the air as she rinsed it out.

After conditioning, she let the water flow through her hair, rinsing the curls into their natural pattern. Milana loved how her hair looked when it was wet—shiny and bouncy, but she knew that getting it just right was always a process. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a comfy towel, the coziness of it bringing solace to her skin. Her reflection in the mirror showed the early signs of a day well begun, a fresh glow from the shower and a peaceful, relaxed look in her eyes.

Milana set to work on her curls next, reaching for her wide-tooth comb, gently working through the damp strands. She’d learned long ago that combing it while wet, before it started to dry and frizz, was the key to avoiding knots. Reminding herself to go slow as she ran the comb through her hair, already she could tell it was going to be a good hair day. The curls felt soft and defined, just how she liked them. She applied a leave-in conditioner, massaging it through with care, and then followed up with a curl cream and gel, just enough to give some bounce without weighing her down.

Once she’d finished applying the products, she reached for a blow-dryer, using the diffuser attachment to slowly work her way through. Gently drying her hair while spending a few minutes in her own world until she was left with a halo of soft, bouncy curls, each one defined and full of life. That had Milana smiling at her reflection, loving how they looked today. Her hair had its own rhythm, and as much as she might complain about the time it took to style it, there was something satisfying about seeing the final result. It felt like a personal victory every time. With her hair, semi dry and perfectly styled, it was time to leave her vanity and start moving faster.

She knew Ony would be pulling up soon, clipping her hair up, and shedding her towel to lotion up. Smoothing a rich layer of body cream onto her arms, the soft, gourmand scent lingering in the air, mixing with the steam still present from her shower. Her hands glided over her skin, and she closed her eyes, letting the lotion soak in while her thoughts wandered off to her boyfriend again. Like that was anything new. But it had been a while since she’d truly stopped and reflected on how he made her feel.

In the quiet moments, when she was alone with her thoughts, she realized that he was a constant presence in her life. Not just physically, but in the way he made everything feel lighter. As she worked the cream into her thighs, she remembered the way he made even the smallest moments special. Ony had a way of being effortlessly kind, the type of person who always seemed to know exactly what you needed without you saying a word. He wasn’t loud or showy about it; instead, he was quietly, consistently present. Milana had always admired how he could make her feel safe, not just physically, but emotionally as well, showing it in both his words and actions.

She felt refreshed after putting some work in to look pretty, taking some time to actually smile at her reflection, brushing a hand over her arms to take in the smoothness. Admiring herself has never been easy, but after that shower session there was no way to bring her down. Opening her closet to scan the clothes hanging in front of her, excited as she jumped into a skirt and tied a knot into the back of her top to show off a little today. Brushing her lashes with her spoolie and swiping on her lip liner and gloss, just enough to feel awake and ready to face the day.

A glance at her phone told her it was already 10:40, meaning she was cutting it close, but that was nothing new. Milana nearly slipped on her hardwood floors as she sped to feed Oreo and grab her own breakfast. Shoving it down while standing in front of her microwave, happy that she at least remembered to pop her vitamins as well. With a familiar honk outside, she was scrambling to close the fridge and hop into her shoes as she snatched up her bag and textbooks, glasses nearly falling off in the process.

Ony picking her up for school was something new that she enjoyed him doing for her, smiling as he pulled up blasting her favorite songs in his “Batmobile” as she dubbed it. The nickname always made him laugh because of how dark his tints were and the expensive black car wrap that covered it. He hopped out and opened the door for her to get in, laying a sweet kiss to her cheek as she did, giggling softly, adjusting the books in her hands as she tried to stop cheesing so hard at his antics. He closed the door and got in himself to lay another kiss to her lips, grunting appreciatively when her hand cupped his cheek to hold him there.

He tried not to deepen it further, but Milana was just too intoxicating to him, his hands sneaking to wrap around her back. “Ah, Ony. We’ve got school to go to.” She reminded him as she pulled away, using her thumb to wipe her gloss off his lips.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, pulling her in for one more before he took off. As she buckled her seatbelt she observed him, noticing that his mood didn’t seem all the way there. His eyes fixed straight ahead as if he was lost in thought, a worse thought popping up in her head that maybe he was avoiding looking at her altogether.

“Hey,” Milana finally got him to glance at her as she tried to break the ice, her voice soft. “How are you?”

Ony gave a small humm, but it wasn’t a real answer. His movements stiff as he shrugged, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable. She frowned, trying to study him more, but he wasn’t giving her much to work with. “You okay?”

He nodded, but the gesture felt half-hearted. “Yeah,” he threw it out, replying flatly. His tone was so neutral that she was racking her brain trying to come up with any answers as to why today was so different. "Just tired."

She didn’t buy it, having known Ony long enough to tell when something was wrong, and this felt like something more than just a lack of sleep. She glanced at him, her heart sinking while her mood deflated a bit, but he truly hadn’t intended on being so cold today, wrapped up in his own emotions while trying to process how he felt.

Things with her were just moving much differently than he wanted, their relationship in a weird place for him in the aftermath of her argument with Sasha. He noticed how Milana had become more withdrawn, more reluctant to show affection in public, and now he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was because of him. It had started small, little things like her pulling away when he tried to hold her hand in front of their friends or her quickly changing the subject when their relationship came up. But today, it hit him all at once when he wasn’t even trying to think about it.

Them taking things slow wasn’t an issue for him, if it was better for her, then it was better for their relationship. His only concern was that he didn’t see an end to them being private, and now it just felt like they were borderline secretive. Not going out in public, no dates like they were doing when they first got together, or even acting like a couple when they were out. It was hard for him, having to be stuck inside to receive her affection, and all he wanted was to feel proud of what they had—not like they were sneaking around.

Still, he noticed that his silence wasn’t helping to make the ride any easier, tilting his head to turn towards her. It gave her an opportunity to appreciate how beautiful he looked, light filtering through the window, casting a warm glow on his dark skin, making him look even more striking. The way his jawline looked sharp from the side, making his taper appear pronounced, the subtle intensity in his eyes reminding her of his mood. Sometimes, she couldn’t help how she found him so attractive, even if it was at a bad time, it hit her in waves, like she was seeing him for the first time all over again.

The way she looked at him made him smile, finally cracking through to bring him into better spirits. “You ate? You want me to grab you something before class?” Ony asked, reaching a hand out for her to hold while he finished the drive. The redirect allowed her time to breathe, brushing off his earlier behavior by chalking it up to him being tired like he said.

“I ate at home today, Babe. Had some oatmeal and fruit.” Milana squeezed his hand reassuringly, giving him a sweet smile as she answered.

“Good, that’s good.” He nodded, and she caught herself staring at him for a moment longer than she meant to. Ony turned, catching her gaze. He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, stopping at a red light and reaching a hand over to pick up one of her curls and inspect them with tenderness. “Did your professor hit you back?”

She rolled her eyes, thinking about how her teacher had sent back her essay saying that she incorrectly cited one of her quotes. They didn’t even double check it to see that she hadn’t, and then had the nerve to not respond to her email for days. “Not yet. I’m more worried about this other class though. The homework is only getting harder.” She smoothed out her hair, sighing at the annoying things she’d have to face today.

“Nah, you’ll make it,” Ony said confidently, shaking his head at how she acted like she couldn’t handle the homework, she was the only person he knew who’d look at a “B” and want to cry. “It’s just class, don’t stress so much, Mama.”

“Just class?” She echoed with a playful glare. “If I don’t pass that class I’ll be casting shame upon my whole family.” Milana dramatically threw herself to the side in a fit of mock despair, holding a hand to her forehead like she was liable to faint.

Ony tried to suppress his laughter, her antics getting the best of him, still making him smile through all the struggle he was facing inside. A reprieve from the tension giving them a second of normalcy again. “You’ll do great. Besides, I’ll be there to help you with everything. Y’know, in case you need tutoring later.” He turned to her with a wink, his mischievous smile telling her that studying isn’t what he really wanted to do.

Milana shot him a sideways glance, humming as if she wasn’t sure, as she replied. “Tutoring, huh? Well, how qualified are you?”

“Oh, I’m more than qualified,” Ony said, putting on his smoothest face, making her turn away before she’d burst into laughter. “In fact, I’m thinking of giving private lessons, just you and me. No distractions.” He reached a hand over, letting his fingertips skim up her bare leg to tickle her, she couldn’t help but to laugh now.

“I’ll pass on the tutoring, I already know someone for that. That way I can be free for some alone time.” Wiggling her eyebrows up and down in a way that had him rolling his eyes at her silliness, she finally felt at ease without the awkwardness filling the car.

“You for real got a tutor? Who?” His question was innocent enough, just genuinely wanting to make sure that she was covered in school. He knew how hard she worked in order to do good, and wouldn’t want her to feel like she was slipping up when her semester was almost over.

“Just a friend, my super smart one. We’re going to meet at a cafe or something so he can help me out.” Ony’s eyes narrowed just slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a mix of curiosity and something else, an unmistakable hint of jealousy.

It hadn’t meant to creep in the way it did, but the fact that she was so casual about going out with some random guy he'd never met instead of him made his feelings bubble back to the surface all over again. This time coming back tenfold. Maybe it was his mood, or his exasperation with their situation, but he just couldn’t bite the sarcastic jab that left his mouth.

“Damn, you going out with him like that? I don’t got to worry do I?” His voice laced with simmering aggravation that he just couldn’t seem to tame. He couldn’t help but be a bit fed up, tired of tiptoeing around the issue. He’d rather just bring it out and lay it all on the table, but he also didn’t really know the right words to say at the moment.

“What?” Milana responded immediately, brows scrunching in confusion at how he flipped so fast. The air thickened all at once, sucking up the joy that was once there and replaced it with unspoken frustration. “Okay, Ony. What’s up with you?” She finally asked, turning to him with a huff, arms crossing over her chest as she started to feel an attitude creep in. He couldn’t expect her to just be cool with how he’d been acting, especially when he was throwing random jabs.

“It’s nothing.” He tried to brush her off once again, but when he saw that she wasn’t going to let up about it he continued. “I just.. I don’t think this lowkey shit is gonna work for me.” Ony huffed, trying not to let his emotions take over, choosing his words carefully as he spoke. He knew this wasn’t about her friend, it was about them, and how much he wanted to change the way they were right now.

As cautious as he tried to be, it didn’t matter when his delivery still hurt, his tone much less understanding than it usually was. Besides, what did he mean by “lowkey shit”? What was he trying to say? Blindsided wasn’t the word, she felt like something was bothering him lately, but never expected Ony to be upset about that.

“Didn’t you agree when we said we’d keep it private? I thought that’s what you wanted too.” Milana pointed out as she spoke defensively. It wasn’t like she had anything to hide, she just felt like she had made the right choice. They were doing them, without anyone to criticize how they were doing it, what’s so wrong with that?

“I never said I wanted that, you did.” He tossed back, regretting the fact that he had even agreed to that in the first place. At this point, he was ready to forget it and just drop it. He felt misunderstood, simply wanting the respect of being treated like a partner in public.

“Ony, you’re literally getting all upset ‘cause I don’t want to put our business out there?”

His eyes turned, narrowing in on her intensely. The look made her falter slightly as Ony only heightened the situation. She’d never seen him so… upset, usually always calm and even-tempered like nothing could phase him. “That’s not what I said. I just don’t think it’s going to work for us. The fuck is wrong with that?”

Oh now he was doing way too much. “Wait,” Milana chuckled, laced with disbelief at his tone, his chest all puffed up as he tilted his head, smacking his lips at her. “Why are you cursing at me? You act like I’m committing a crime for not wanting to put myself out there on front street.” Now she was ready to show out, voice as sharp as her eyes that looked like they could cut him down.

Ony tried to take a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. His voice tightening as he held his composure. “All I’m saying is, I want to be able to be with you without having to worry about other people, and you should want that too.”

Milana’s scoff cut through the air like a blade, her frustration obvious as she rolled her eyes like he wasn’t making sense. He’d been trying to be patient up until this point, but hearing that dismissive sound sent a stabbing spike of irritation through him. It wasn’t just the words anymore; it was a culmination of everything, the way he felt like he wasn’t good enough to be proud of.

“Or are you trying to keep things on the low so you can still fuck around?”

Milana’s chest tightened uncomfortably, all of the air being sucked out of her at once. Her cheeks puffed up as she resisted the urge to ball up her fists unless she wanted to break a nail. The weight of his accusation hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn’t see anything past the red hot anger that was clouding her vision. “You know what, you can drop me off here.” Her voice shook as she tried not to spew out every obscenity she was thinking of, ready to just walk to school at this point.

Ony huffed through his nose, wanting to slam his head against the wheel after letting that out. That wasn’t supposed to happen, popping off at the mouth and saying reckless things unintentionally, a bad habit he was still trying to conquer. It definitely didn’t help that whenever he looked at her he had a strange mix of frustration and attraction going on in his head. He’d definitely have to tell her later that her angry face made him want to kiss her, and maybe do a little more than that.

“Are you seriously asking me to pull over and let you out?” Ony asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and a half-amused chuckle. “You’re funny if you think I’d do that.”

Milana’s face immediately darkened, glaring daggers at him. “Nothing about this is funny, so don’t even start with me.” All she wanted to do was scream, hands gripping the end of her skirt, bunching it in her hands frustratedly.

“Ain’t nobody starting with you, so chill.” He clicked his tongue, scratching at his jawline, trying to think of ways to apologize when they both calmed down. Her mouth opened again, ready to fire back at him when he cut in. “And I don’t give a fuck about your lil’ attitude. I’m still dropping you off and making sure you get there safe.” His tone had that finality to it, which meant no matter how she begged or pleaded, he was going to follow through. Her arms crossed over her chest, huffing in annoyance as she sat back and waited.

They each ignored each other on the ride there, Milana suddenly finding the window more interesting, looking at the side of his head each time she looked up, trying not to smack her lips in annoyance. Her body stiff, legs crossed so he couldn’t rest his hand on her thigh, bobbing her foot up and down in her cute wedges as she tried not to look at her anklet with his initial on it.

Did he really think she didn’t want to be with him without having to worry about what people would say? Of course, she wanted the same thing, but how could they have that when her own best friend wasn’t approving of them. She was so mad, even more so when she realized he wasn’t wrong, not exactly. He felt the way he felt, though said it in a bad way, but she also felt this deep, gnawing fear that she couldn’t and didn’t know how to explain to him. Afraid of opening up to the world, of being vulnerable. It wasn’t just about hiding their relationship; it was about protecting it. About protecting them from the harsh judgment that came with it.

Milana couldn’t dwell on it for too long, her campus coming into view as they pulled up, watching as Ony still came around to her side and opened her door, helping her step out once he parked in his usual spot down the street from the entrance. She practically leapt to her feet to get away from him, looking around to make sure no one saw them, the action not going unnoticed by him, only making his anger boil all over again. Milana was just about to storm off in a huff when Ony cleared his throat behind her, gesturing to her forgotten school bag in his hands. Oh great.

With her arms carrying her books, she made her way back to him, avoiding his eyes in a mix of embarrassment and irritation. She reached a hand out to take it back from him when he pulled it out of her reach, a teasing expression to him. “Nah, I think I’ll carry it for you.” Even better.

Ony leaned down, eyes boring into hers as he pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, not able to stay mad for long, sliding the books out of her hands to walk them for her. Milana stepped back, not wanting to be so close to him right now, still feeling the residual emotions from their spat earlier. “Don’t be like that, Ma.”

“And what am I supposed to be like, Onyankopon?” She snapped back, reeling it in when he shot her a look for being short with him, lips pressing together to keep from saying anything else.

They started walking afterwards, Ony carrying all her things while Milana was actively trying to ignore him still, seething silently. People were practically tripping over their own feet trying to get out of his way, seeing the deep scowl he had on his face from not being able to resolve anything and having to leave it there. Whispers going around all by her ears making her want to cry and scream all at once.

Fuck, this wasn’t how he wanted it to go at all. Now she was stomping her little feet all around campus, looking cute as ever, but too mad to let him do anything about it. Ony sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tried to shake off the guilt he was feeling. He said all the wrong things, too upset to think straight the moment he spilled out what he’d been trying to avoid all this time.

The path to class was too brief for his liking, but not short enough for hers, wanting to escape and be done with this situation. She turned to face him once they reached her Roots of African American culture class, the professor and some students already gathered to begin. He silently handed over her books and bag, watching her sling it over her shoulder and try and turn away to leave.

“We gone settle this later.” Ony all but declared, stuffing his hands in his pocket, mindful not to put his hands on her to give her some space.

“I don’t think so.” His tongue ran over his teeth, biting down and reminding himself that she had a right to be upset. He knew he’d only rile things up even more if he didn’t reel it in, and he’d never embarrass her by trying to argue right in front of her classroom.

“You don’t get to avoid me forever, gotta talk to me at some point, Milana.” Ony eased out, trying to reason softly with her, but only making her stomach tighten with a mix of emotions.

“Yeah well, you don’t get to say hurtful things then act like you care.” Her voice wobbled at the end, quickly rushing into her classroom before she broke down in an embarrassing scene. She took deep breaths, digging in her bag for some headphones to get through the day, writing notes with hardly any effort or drawings to power through. Instead, her mind was focused on not thinking about her boyfriend.

In the end, Ony still made his presence known everywhere she turned. He had been trying to talk it out all day with endless calls and texts, asking her to at least respond. Having to deal with that was hard enough, especially when she had to practically escape off campus to avoid driving with him again. Leaving class thirty minutes early after sending a text to let him know she didn’t need a ride.

That’s when he started going off the deep end, sending Mikasa, a neutral party, over with chocolates from him, really going all out to get her to answer the phone. At some point his messages started turning from asking to telling her that he was coming over, demanding to speak. There was just no way he was going to let this argument continue on like this, but Milana wasn’t too ready to just give up after she felt like he disrespected her.

“It’s like he thinks he owns me. Like I’m supposed to move when he says to. Just disregards everything I’m saying, and to top it all off, accused me of being a cheater?” She ranted, pacing her bedroom back and forth as she replayed the argument from her perspective.

“Girl, this is why I don’t fuck with men.” Mikasa opened another candy wrapper, popping it into her mouth with a content hum until it was snatched out of her hands. “What-”

“Stop eating my chocolates!” Milana huffed out as she slammed the box closed, tossing it to the other side of the bed with an annoyed eye roll. “Focus! Help me think about what I’m supposed to do when he gets here.”

Mikasa groaned, sitting up and rubbing her temples for a second while in deep thought. She mumbled ideas to herself under her breath, then smiled with a troublesome look, something that made Milana a bit hesitant. “What?” She asked, Mikasa sitting up and leaning close to her ear, playing the little devil on her shoulder.

“You want to show him you can make decisions without him, right? Be your own boss, don’t take his shit.” Whispering to her in a soothing tone, her words twisting something in her stomach, feeling a scheme coming on. “Come with me to this bonfire.”

“A bonfire?” How was a party going to solve her issues with Ony? That only sounded like some payback, like toxic Mikasa was in full effect. She felt a twinge of apprehension until it started mixing in with anger, turning into a desire to get out of the house. A strong sense of pride that made her want to show him that he couldn’t talk to her in any type of way. Mikasa’s advice is starting to sound better and better, and besides, if this were Sasha she’d probably be telling her to just cut her losses with him. What was the harm in hearing out another idea?

“Show him you’re not waiting around for him to decide your life. You don’t have to ask permission to go anywhere, so no harm no foul. You’re just going to go and get your mind off of things.” One gift that girl had was to make anything sound persuasive, and right now, everything was making a lot of sense. “No one from campus will be there. Let loose a little.”

Let loose, huh? Maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what she needed. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.” Milana smirked, a little eager to get out of the house for the first time in a while. She definitely should’ve said twenty though, since Mikasa was holding her to every second. Impatient as she threw on her makeup and scrambled all over the room. Shimmying into some white capris and pulling on a low cut butterfly cami before picking out her chunkiest bracelets and matching heels. She stood in front of the mirror, her hands shaking slightly as she applied the finishing touches, rubbing in some glittering body oil over her skin.

The argument with Ony replayed in her mind, the harsh words, the silence that followed, and the look in his eyes that made her doubt everything. How could he feel like she would betray him like that? When she’d been actively trying to open up just like he was, letting him in closer than anyone else had ever gotten. The thought of even entertaining someone else was laughable, knowing that she’d rather throw up then have to flirt with a man. Especially when she wouldn’t find anyone else like Ony.

Milana had missed him all day, reading through each text he sent while trying not to cry, so angry with him that she didn’t know what to do. Despite the ache in her heart, she knew this was the step she needed to take. A small act of courage to move forward, even if only for tonight. Who knows when she’d feel like socializing again, and maybe it’d give her the confidence she needed to talk things out. Wanting nothing more than to squash this issue and get an apology, but she couldn't bring herself to reach out first. Not yet, anyway. She took a deep breath, knowing deep down, staying in her room while spiraling wouldn’t help. Shaking out the tenseness she felt, she made her way outside with Mikasa, seeing her smile and admiring her look today.

“You look amazing,” Mikasa said as they walked out to the car. “Bonfire's going to be good for you.” The drive to the beach was filled with light conversation and the crackling sound of the radio. Most of it a blur until they actually arrived at the beach, hopping out to make their way to the pit. It was where everyone went for hangouts, parties getting thrown nearly every day of the week all the time.

The air outside was getting crisp, the scent of burning wood filling their lungs as they approached the group gathered around the fire. She didn’t know them personally, not like Mikasa, but they were familiar faces and always nice when they ran into her.

People laughing, talking, and enjoying the warmth of the flames, spread across the area on lawn chairs and beach towels. This should be the perfect distraction. Milana and Mikasa joined the others, finding a spot to stand near the pit. As the warmth enveloped her, Milana felt a slow exhale escape her lips. She could hear Mikasa already jumping into conversations with multiple people, but her mind wandered again to Ony. He stopped reaching out, going radio silent now, which made her feel more uneasy, checking her phone again and again, refreshing it just to see nothing. Now she felt like she had taken him for granted, that he figured it was a waste of time trying to fix it. Was he even sorry? She didn’t know.

Mikasa was her usual cheery self within the group surrounding them, but Milana could sense her friend’s attention, occasionally drifting back to check on her. It made her feel a little better, but not enough to shake the unease. Her hands stretched out in front of her, warming up by the fire, each one holding a heel that was cute but impractical for the beach. “Hey, you okay?” Mikasa’s voice was gentle, probably sensing that she was sensitive, nudging Milana playfully with her shoulder.

She gave a half-hearted smile, softly kicking at the sand while inspecting the jumping embers. Her lips rubbed together as she tried to appear more calm than she felt. “Yeah, just… not used to this.”

Mikasa chuckled lightly. “It’s just a bonfire, Milana. No one’s going to bite.” This time she reached out and draped an arm over her shoulders, making her feel even warmer. “You want me to introduce you to someone?”

Milana hesitated. The thought of engaging with more strangers made her feel even more self-conscious. She glanced around at the group, hearing snippets of laughter and conversation, but felt too shy to join in. It was easier to stay quiet, to stay in her shell. “I don’t know,” Her voice low, quietly dropping her gaze to the sand. “I’m fine here.”

Mikasa nodded understandingly. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I’m right here.” Milana gave a small nod, appreciating the support. She stayed there, watching the fire, feeling its warmth but still battling the uncertainty inside her. Now she was wondering how her friend got her to agree with this. She didn’t get the chance to find out, an entire hour in and she hadn’t done much but feel like an imposter amongst everyone else.

The night alive with the pulse of music, the scent of saltwater in the air, orange and yellow light illuminating the beach. Mikasa making her laugh, hearing it mingle with the sound of waves, but her thoughts were far from relaxed. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being there, but there was something gnawing at her. Something about being here without Ony, without him knowing, felt wrong. Her nerves creating a tight knot in her stomach.

Milana excused herself to get a drink, needing some time alone for a second to just process everything. Some of the faces around her became unfamiliar, their energy high and free, something she struggled to mirror as she walked carefully to the cooler. Rummaging through it, she found a spiked lemonade that hadn’t been taken, celebrating her win with a smile as she cracked it open. The taste was heaven, cooling her down and giving her a little buzz to get through the rest of the night.

Mikasa approached her, noticing her expression was a little more serious than usual as she glanced up, sensing something was going on in her friend's mind. “Hey, Lana,” She said, taking a deep breath before sitting down in an empty chair next to her. “I need to dip for a second, my ex is here.”

Milana’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what?” She immediately sat down too, shocked to know that her ex girlfriend had showed up. They did know the same people, but usually she was always trying to stay away from Mikasa, keeping her blocked for months now.

“Yeah.” Mikasa’s tone was careful, almost hesitant. “I know, I know. It’s a bit of a mess, but she’s here, and I think I need to clear the air, you know?” Her eyes softened as she glanced at her friend. “I’ll be back soon. I just need to do this for myself.”

Milana blinked, processing the sudden shift. She didn’t realize Mikasa still had unfinished business with her Ex. Her friend, usually so confident and composed, was showing a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. Mikasa wasn’t one to really talk about their relationship, maybe it was painful to bring up, but tonight it seemed like she was ready to lay it all on the table. “You’re sure?” She asked, trying to keep her voice low. “You want to do this now?”

Mikasa nodded, her lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. When you love someone, you have to make it right.” That caught her attention, Milana’s head poking up at her friend's words, taking in the subtle advice. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she wasn’t sure what words would be helpful. Instead, she just nodded.

“Okay. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Mikasa stood, giving her a quick, tight hug. “Thanks, Lana,” She whispered before walking off away from the group of people who had gathered near the bonfire. Milana watched her go, feeling a strange mix of emotions. There was a sense of loneliness creeping in, but also a strange respect for Mikasa’s courage.

Her mind drifted back to the way Ony had looked at her, distant and hurt, and the words that had spilled out between them like a tidal wave. Maybe it had hurt him, just as much as it had torn her apart. Was she brave enough to fix it though? To apologize? Milana’s gaze dropped to the sand, tossing her shoes down beside her, huffing as she tried to ignore the tears welling up, her anger dissipating slowly. The idea of approaching him, of letting her guard down enough to admit her mistakes, made her feel nauseous.

But, then she drifted away again, her heart fluttering uncomfortably as a few memories of happier times with Ony flickered through her mind. Images of them laughing together, sharing quiet moments, the way he’d always held onto her like a lifeline, keeping her grounded. They’d built something together, something that felt like it could last, and yet, here they were, on the edge of something fragile.

Maybe Mikasa was right, and it was time to face the hard conversations. But how? How could she find the courage to repair what had been broken? Her fingers gripped the edge of her seat tightly, a small but defiant gesture. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to go to Ony yet, but the thought of letting everything slip away without trying seemed even harder to bear.

The sight of someone nearby pulled her out of her reverie. Milana turned, and a guy she didn’t recognize was standing beside her, dropping down into Mikasa’s old seat. He stretched out, getting a little too close for comfort as he decided to speak. “You look like you could use some company,” The man said with a sly wink, the kind that made her uncomfortable. “I’m Nate. What’s your name?”

His grin was confident, his eyes wandering over her as if she were a prize to be claimed. Milana forced a smile, but she wasn’t really interested. Her mind was still rushing in different directions. “Lana.” She shrugged out, lips pulled into a tight lipped smile as she went back to sipping her drink.

Milana looked uneasy, shifting back a little, but the man didn’t seem to take the hint. Instead, he scooted in closer, eyes gleaming when his hand brushed a bit too close to hers. “Silent type, I like that. You’re far too beautiful to be sitting here all alone though. Want to go for a walk?” She felt her stomach turn, but before she could come up with a polite excuse, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“The fuck is going on here?”

She whipped around to see Ony, his face stormy, jaw clenched tight like he could shatter his teeth right now. His eyes looked past her, locked on the man beside her, and for a split second, the world seemed to freeze. Milana’s heart dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t even seen him pull up, but there he was, furious with defensive fists clenched at his sides.

When he had stepped onto the beach, the sound of the party was already buzzing in his ears, his feet hurriedly stomping towards the prettiest girl there. He hadn't wanted to come, not in the mood to be there, or around anyone for that matter after the argument with Milana. Yet, somehow Mikasa had convinced him, practically begged him, persuading him with the promise of being able to finally see his girl. Her presence was so magnetic that it almost hurt to look at her, and even from a distance, she commanded him towards her.

There, in front of him was everything he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. Her skin, so deep and rich that he practically wanted to sink his teeth in, glowing softly in the firelight. He watched the way her curls framed her face, a halo of beauty, each strand alive and full of life. The way her lips parted slightly when she smiled, the apple of her cheeks full with life just like her eyes. They held a shade of brown that always seemed to catch the light just right, making everything else around him blur.

For a moment, the anger, the confusion, the words they’d exchanged earlier melted away. All that was left was the woman he loved, standing in front of him like an image of pure poise and beauty. Then in an instant, it all turned sour.

Nothing could prepare him to see her sitting next to some guy. Ony quickly telling himself that he was overreacting, it’s nothing. He had no right to feel jealous, no right to feel this sting. They were fine, not broken up. Convincing himself that they were just... in a rough patch. But something about the way the guy leaned in, way too close, made something twist painfully inside of him.

Milana could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, embarrassment mingling with all her other unresolved feelings. She hadn’t expected him to show up, and now she was stuck in the middle of something that felt like it was spiraling out of control. It seemed like the only one who hadn’t gotten the hint was Nate, smirking at Ony like this was funny to him. “Hey man, relax. We’re just talking.”

Ony was already tall, but when close by the fire, it made his shadow loom over the two sitting down. His posture made him seem even bigger, broad shoulders squared, obviously not playing around right now. He was moving with a controlled intensity, like a man who knew exactly how to command space, how to make himself noticed without uttering a word.

He glanced briefly at the guy again—still smiling, still leaning in too close, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing Ony had to say to him, turning his attention to who he came for. “Let’s go.” Was all he said, the sharpness in his tone made her flinch. Milana hadn’t expected him to react like this, he had never been possessive, or so angry. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words wouldn’t come out, realizing she hadn’t even considered how this might look to him.

There was nothing to say, instead that would have to come later. Milana pushed up from her chair to stand, solemnly bending down, ready to grab her shoes when a cold hand reached for her wrist. It took her brain a second to register that it wasn’t from her boyfriend, who was now looking like he could commit murder. No, that random dude was holding onto her, making her turned to him confused as he opened his mouth. “Hey, I don’t think so man.”

“Excuse me?” In an instant, Ony stepped forward, his hand reaching for Milana, pulling her firmly toward him. The movement was almost instinctual, like a predator ready to strike, body strumming as he tried not to blow this up for everyone to see. There was no way he’d let another man get away with putting their hands on his girl though.

“Look man, I don’t know who you are, but I’ve waited like forever to talk to her. Just go back to where you came from and let the girl live a little.” The guy just wouldn’t let go, too busy squaring off with her boyfriend to notice how she wasn’t even interested. In fact, she was wondering what part of their short, barely there conversation convinced him that this was okay.

Ony didn’t know what he felt first. Rage, possessiveness, maybe something even darker. He didn’t like the way the guy was looking at Milana, didn’t like how her body language had shifted from her usual demeanor to someone a lot more tense, still trying to politely escape the situation. He for sure didn’t like this creep’s fucking hands on her either, and if he didn’t let go soon then he’d probably have to learn how to use it again in the hospital.

Nate seemed to not get that little bit of information Ony was conveying, instead deciding to fill the tense atmosphere with his grating voice. “Aye, I don’t usually fight for chicks, but she’s so fine I might have to take her from you.” That might’ve been the biggest mistake of the night, sending everyone involved into a silence that stretched on uncomfortably.

Then, out of the blue, amused laughter left Ony’s lips, heavy and uncomfortable. It was scary sounding, so loud that it pierced everyone’s ears, his lips curled into a dark, humorless smile. Uneasy wasn’t even the word to describe how this felt, watching him descend into madness, shoulders shaking slightly with actual mirth. He tried, he really did try not to let the words sink in, but he could only laugh as the thoughts swirling around in his head took a turn for the worse.

“Alright then.”

Ony’s laugh died quickly, but the effect lingered, his voice falling into a chilling calm as he spoke, low and guttural. Milana jumped immediately, heart dropping to her feet, sensing that the dark edge to her boyfriend’s tone was a red flag in the making. His hand reached underneath his hoodie, dipping into the waistband of his jeans to pull out a gun.

“Ony!” Her surprised yelp caught the man up to speed, the guy’s smile faltered as he realized the shift in the atmosphere, finally making him react in the face of danger.

“Woah, man.” The guy obviously didn't know whether to run or stay there, and she didn't think it'd matter anyways. He let go of her hand immediately, allowing her more range to be able to get in front of Ony, trying to push him back from the situation that was quickly unfolding. Nate had been all cocky smiles and bravado when he made his initial comment, trying to make a show of his casual flirtation with Milana. Yet, now that the confrontation was real, and he was facing Ony, standing just a few feet away as he towered over him like a force of nature, it was clear that the guy’s confidence had begun to evaporate.

“Nah, fuck all that. What happened to taking my girl? What happened to all that shit you was talking?” He looked downright unhinged, his words so calm and cool, but his eyes were wild and so scary that she couldn't even recognize him anymore. Her heart seized in her chest at the realization, getting pulled out of the way in her lax state. Nate backed up as Ony stepped forward, her hands reaching out to clutch onto the back of his hoodie and keep him under control.

“Stop, Ony! He didn’t do anything!” That had him turning, looking at her like she was the crazy one, as if he wasn’t the one up in arms over another man simply interacting with her. It looked like he was gearing up to fire back at her, but it gave the guy an opportunity to take a step back, and then another. His body language shifted from brash to something else. Fear and uncertainty, a realization that he had overestimated himself. Without missing a beat, he ran off in the complete opposite direction of the party, the parking lot, and the city for some reason. His footsteps kicked up the sand as he bolted, weaving through the crowd, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the man who was threatening him. Honestly Milana sighed in relief for him, for a minute she thought that it was over for the poor guy.

“Fucking Dumbass.” Ony’s tone was bored as he shook his head, watching him go before looking side to side briefly as he tucked his gun back. The guy hadn't even gotten close enough to warrant a swing, yet here he was, running away, knowing he’d lose badly.

The crowd around them had gone silent. Some of them exchanged confused glances, others looked at Ony with a mix of surprise and wariness. But he didn’t care, he wasn’t there to prove anything. He wasn’t remorseful, had no guilt or even embarrassment at his actions, simply treating the situation like a simple inconvenience that he got out of character. The guy had made his choice, and now, with his back turned and his footsteps fading in the distance, the message had been delivered loud and clear.

“Ony, you’re acting like a psycho!” Milana whisper shouted to him. Her voice cracked with frustration, hands trembling slightly as she gestured at Ony, who stood there like a wall, his expression unreadable. The words felt harsh, but it was the only way she knew how to get through to him. The way he had stood there earlier, staring down that guy like he was ready to tear him apart scared her.

The tension between them was palpable, and everything that had been left unsaid was coming to the surface, thickening the air around them. He only tilted his head at her, not moving, not even flinching at her words. Observing her like he was trying to see why she would say that, and for a moment, she didn’t think he’d respond at all.

“Oh yeah? C’mere and let’s talk about why I’m acting like a psycho.” Her jaw dropped instantly, and Milana actually thought she’d flash from how angry she was, turning on her feet to snatch up her heels and start walking off, too outdone with him. The sand beneath her feet felt like it was shifting with every step, liable to take her down as the salty breeze whipped her hair across her face. The waves crashed violently against the shore, mirroring the turmoil she felt inside.

There was just no reasoning with him, too out of control, and she wasn’t about to deal with it right now. Milana felt so weighed down with emotion that she thought she’d fall over. The fight wasn’t just about the guy anymore; it was everything. The way he was reacting, the way he couldn’t control himself. This wasn’t the Ony she had fallen for, the one who was patient and understanding.

“Milana, the fuck are you walking away for?” Ony’s voice followed her, urgent, his footsteps heavy as he tried to catch up. But she didn’t stop, feeling a storm brewing from how fired up she felt. All she wanted was to escape the pressure building inside her chest.

“I need a break, Ony!” She snapped, quickening her pace, her frustration cutting through her voice. “I really can’t do this right now!” He was right on her tail though, ready to just pull her off the beach kicking and screaming if he had to. Done with playing these games where she’d leave and he’d have to wait for her to talk.

“You’re not even listening to me when I’m the one trying to make this right?” That had her laughing in disbelief, eyebrows scrunched as her whole face twisted into anger, turning around to poke a nail into the center of his chest, keeping him arms length away.

“Make this right? By following me here and popping up like you own me? Or better yet, by threatening to shoot someone like a lunatic?” Her voice went lower and more aggressive as she tried to get away, choosing a path with no one in front of her, trying to find her friend through the sea of onlookers.

“I wouldn’t have to follow you here and show his bitchass what’s up if you actually acted like you give a fuck. You keep pushing me away like you wanna be single or some shit.” Ony snapped, his words coming out sharper than he meant, venom coating each syllable. He could feel the heat of the argument burning in his veins, and the tighter his grip on his temper became, the more reckless his mouth got. The argument had escalated faster than she expected, each word cutting deeper, and now it felt like the space between them was too wide to bridge.

Milana froze at his words, her heart sinking in her chest. The way he said it sounded like a threat, like he was going to up and leave her. She slowly turned to face him, her face a mixture of disbelief and hurt. His stomach clenched, and for a split second, Ony thought he saw tears in her eyes. Something that made him freeze for just a heartbeat. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Ony. I wasn’t even talking to him. How could you say that?” Her voice was rising now, a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You’re just a self-centered jerk who only cares about his own feelings.”

He couldn’t even be mad at that, her outburst filled with pain that he had inadvertently caused by throwing out accusations he didn’t mean. Ony managed to get in front of her path, going around to stop her from moving again, reaching out to soothe her from his own words when she stepped back. “You don’t think I feel bad?” He genuinely asked, wanting nothing more than to take away everything he said.

“You didn’t feel bad when you disrespected me in your car, Ony!” Milana could feel the shame flooding in, the walls she had carefully built around herself starting to crumble, everything inside her spiraling out of control. The love she had felt, the trust they had built all felt like it was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t stop it.

“What are you talking about? I felt like a fucking dickhead, why do you think I sent you all them fucking messages and shit!” Frustrated, he rubbed a hand down his face, holding himself back after that unexpected flash of anger. He saw the way people were trying to get closer to hear their argument, his blood boiling too much to deal with them too.

“Whatever, they don’t mean anything when you don’t even apologize.” She tried to step around him, his feet following hers like he knew every move she was about to make, mirroring her pace to stay close.

“You think I just wanted to talk for shits and giggles?” His arm catching hers before she could turn and walk away after realizing that he was trailing her like a shadow. Her head pounding uncomfortably trying to keep herself from acting crazy in public. “I’m not trying to yell at you right now, but I want you to talk to me.” There was no way he’d let her just go, not right when they were finally talking about what was going on, even if they were attracting a bit of attention.

“I want to go home.” Exasperated, Milana stomped her foot at him, trying to see around his stupidly tall body to find Mikasa. Her lip became wobbly as all her emotions hit her at once, and for the first time in a long while, Milana felt panic and was scared that everyone was seeing her fall apart. Seeing them fall apart. The weight of everything between them finally overwhelmed her. The floodgates she had been holding back all night were threatening to burst, and the anger and hurt mixed into a choking sob in her throat.

Ony felt a sharp pang in his chest at the sound of her voice, the pain in it hitting him harder than any physical punch ever could. “I’ll-I’ll take you. Right now, Baby. Whatever you want.” Ony felt desperate, alarmed seeing her almost cry, hating himself as he feared he took it too far. His hands came to rub up and down her arms, trying to bring her back down, sensing that she was too overwhelmed to think in the moment. “Let’s go, swear I’ll just take you home.”

“No.” She immediately rejected, the sting hurting worse than anything else she could’ve said. “I need..I should be by myself.” The words hit him like a blow, especially when he could see how much this was hurting her, the vulnerability that was hidden behind her anger, and he knew that this wasn’t just about the fight. It was about something deeper, something they hadn’t yet figured out. She wasn’t just trying to walk away from him; she was retreating into herself, and it terrified him more than he cared to admit.

“I can’t leave you here, Milana,” Ony said, stepping closer, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m taking you home.” His eyes softened, trying not to sound like he wanted to control her. He wasn’t trying to make her feel small, the hurt in her voice just stirred something inside him—a need to protect, to comfort, even if he wasn’t her favorite person right now.

Without another word, he closed the gap between them. He didn’t wait for her to protest or argue again. Only gently, but firmly lifting her into his hold, his strong arms encircling her waist and under her knees, pulling her close against his chest. Milana gasped, her body stiffening in surprise, but before she could protest or struggle, he was already walking toward the parking lot, his steps steady, almost calming in their rhythm. The warmth of his body against hers, the security of his hold, made her stomach twist in an unfamiliar way.

“Ony, stop!” She protested weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You shouldn’t-” He didn’t stop. He kept walking, his focus on getting her into the car, away from the harsh winds of the beach, away from the tension they’d created.

“I’m not putting you down,” He said quietly, his voice steady and strong despite feeling anything but right now. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me get you in the car, alright?” Milana went silent, her heart racing as she rested her head against his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. The anger from the argument was still there, simmering beneath her skin, but the feeling of being held in his arms, of being cared for in this quiet way, was beginning to break her down.

They reached his car, and he carefully opened the passenger door with one hand, setting her gently inside. As he buckled her in, his fingers brushing against hers, and he looked at her with regret in his eyes. Milana felt a knot loosen in her chest, but there was still that part of her that wanted to pull away, that wanted to hide from him, to protect herself from the hurt that always seemed to come with conflict. But Ony wasn’t giving up on her. He wasn’t giving up on them.

He closed the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side, his movements slow, deliberate. As he started the car and pulled away from the beach, the quiet that settled between them felt different from before. It wasn’t filled with anger anymore. It was filled with the weight of things unsaid, but also with some flickering hope that they could repair what had been broken.

Milana stared out the window, the city lights shining brightly as they drove, her thoughts tangled in confusion. The warmth from his earlier embrace was still with her, but so was the ache from their words. Ony had carried her physically to the car, but emotionally, she wasn’t sure where they stood. The road ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time in what felt like a long while, she didn’t feel completely alone, they were hurting together.

He kept his focus on the road, his eyes steady, but every so often, he would glance at her, his gaze full of quiet concern. He didn’t know exactly what she needed right now, but he knew she needed him whether she admitted it or not. She could tell that he cared, that he was more than just a man filled with rage. Yet, somehow they’d both lost sight of that, getting wrapped up in hurt feelings and they didn’t know how to fix it. What happens if they couldn’t? If the way they felt for each other wasn’t enough, if she wasn’t enough to fix it.

Milana’s face was soft in the dim light of the car's interior, but there was an unmistakable distance in her eyes, an emotional gap that made him fearful for the first time in forever. Ony kept his hands on the steering wheel, his grip a little too tight, his knuckles constricting as he tried to find the right words.

He just blew up on the beach, too angry to be anything but stupid, careless— reacting without thinking, and she had only been quick to call him out to protect herself. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly as he tried to relax. He hated this, all of the fighting with Milana. Not just because it hurt, but because it made him realize just how much he valued her, how deeply he cared for her. Thoughts running to the sound of her gentle laugh, the way her eyes would light up when she talked about something she loved, and how she always made him feel like he was enough, even on his worst days.

He thought of the way she cared for him too, how she always seemed to know when he needed her, someone to lean on with kind words and even kinder touches. She had been a steady force in his chaotic world, and he wanted to be that for her too. It was the little things that made him realize how deeply he loved her, how much he wanted to make her feel seen and heard even if he wasn’t always good at that.

But right now, he had failed her. He hadn’t been the understanding, patient boyfriend she deserved, letting his own frustration spill out at the wrong moment in all the wrong ways, and now Ony didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t just let the day end like this, with a wall between them. He wasn’t perfect, and he never claimed to be, but what he did know was that he loved Milana. He loved the way she made him laugh, the way she pushed him to be better, and the way she accepted him, flaws and all. He wasn’t going to let one argument overshadow everything they’d started building.

When they reached her apartment, Ony pulled into his parking spot and turned off the engine, the car’s soft hum fading into the night. The air felt heavy, thick with the weight of their unresolved emotions, his body turning towards her, trying to be as open as he could. “Milana...” He started, his voice quieter now, more calm than earlier, making her ears perk at the change. “Look- I know we might need time, but... can we talk? I don’t want to leave with this hanging over us.”

Ony’s earlier words still echoed in her head, each one a painful reminder of how much he had hurt her. The guilt in his voice now, the way he had insisted on taking her home, only made it worse. It felt like he was trying to fix things, but she wasn’t sure how to let him anymore. Her heart twisted, the pressure building up behind her eyes.

She wanted to scream, wanted to shout that it was too late for talking, that the words had already done enough damage. Instead, she felt a lump form in her throat, too big to swallow, too thick to push down. The tears were coming, she could feel them in her chest, in the tightness of her throat, and she knew she couldn’t let him see. Not now. Not like this.

Milana’s hand trembled as she reached for the door handle, the sound of it clicking echoing in the quiet night. “I’m sorry,” She whispered, not looking at him, her voice breaking. “I just… I can’t. I can’t talk right now.” Before he could say anything, before he could even try to understand, she swung the door open and nearly stumbled out of the car.

Her body was moving on instinct, driven by the need to get away from him, away from the suffocating weight of the argument. Away from the pain that had settled in her chest. Ony’s voice followed her, soft but panicked. “Milana, wait-” But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Closing the door made her heart race, like she was shutting down bit by bit. Her pace quickened, almost frantic, her footsteps loud against the pavement, each one echoing in the quiet street.

Milana reached the door to her apartment, fumbling with her keys before pushing it open with trembling hands, and practically running inside. As soon as she was through the door, the floodgates opened. The tears came, hot and fast, as if they had been waiting for her to finally break. She pressed her palms to her face, trying to muffle the sobs that shook her whole body, but the sound of her own pain only made it worse.

Milana didn’t even care if anyone heard her, if the neighbors could hear her breaking. She just needed to feel something besides the emptiness that had taken over her. She didn’t want to talk to Ony right now, didn’t want to face him, because deep down, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him yet. The wounds were too fresh, and the words still felt like scars on her heart.

Oreo approached her with comforting meows, and she scooped him up into her arms, holding him close as though his small, wiggly body could absorb some of her pain. She made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her as if it could block out the world, and held him tightly to her chest. Sinking to the floor, her body folded in on itself as if the weight of the world had crashed down on her. And for a moment, it felt like she was drowning in it all, burying her face in the soft fur of her cat, trying to find some comfort in the familiar warmth.

Meanwhile, Ony sat in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel, staring blankly at the dashboard. His mind raced with all the things he should have said and done, but it felt like every time he tried to work through it, every word he thought of just made everything worse. He had crossed a line tonight, and the damage was already done. This was probably the hardest thing he’d ever done, going in blind with no experience in making up like this. Usually, a gift was good enough, send some flowers, candy, maybe a new bag depending on how bad he messed up. To make things better with his words seemed like an impossible task.

Cursing to himself, he cut the engine, not able to shake the fear that if he tried to apologize now, he’d just make it worse. That somehow, his words would fail her again. But… she needed him. No matter how many times he told himself he was the last person who should be near her right now, the fear that this was it drove him forward. It gave him the kick he needed to muster up the courage to get out of the car and approach her apartment. Her front door unlocked still, probably in her rush to get inside, locking it for her and stepping in further.

Ony noted that it was dark except for the light pouring in underneath the bathroom door, his feet planted outside of it, making sure that when he spoke now it’d only be to comfort her. He sucked in a breath as he knocked softly, getting no response. He knocked again, this time more urgently, calling her name. “Baby? Let me see you, Ma.” His heart raced, and a feeling of helplessness swirled inside him. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she just wanted space? He couldn’t leave without telling her, at the very least, that he was sorry. That he cared. That he was here. If there was even a chance he could make it right, he had to try. She deserved better than what he had given her tonight. She deserved honesty, and respect, and a love that didn’t cause pain.

Inside, Milana heard his voice, but it didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made her cry even more. She didn’t know what to say to him. She didn’t know how to put all the emotions she was feeling into words that wouldn’t come out wrong. Instead, she buried her face deeper into Oreo’s fur, as if hoping the cat could protect her from the hurt that still stung. The soft, rhythmic purring of the black-and-white cat was the only thing grounding her, a nice presence in the midst of her emotional storm. Her fingers absently stroked his back, trying to find some sense of calm that seemed just out of reach.

The knocks on the door continued, and finally, Milana stood, wiping her face as best as she could. Her makeup had tear streaks down the sides of her cheeks, and her nose was a bit runny as she tried to clean herself up in her mirror. Ony’s words filtered through as he continued talking to her, hearing the water running for a few seconds and her bracelets jingling as she moved around, giving him a bit of comfort.

After a few minutes to collect herself, she opened the bathroom door, not quite ready to face him but knowing she had to. Oreo slinked his way out through the other side as Ony stood patiently, his expression full of concern, guilt, and something else she couldn’t quite place. He sighed, deep and heavy with emotion, one that made her want to cry all over again. “Baby,” His voice hoarse with raw emotion, hands clenching again, but this time to keep himself controlled.

He knew that there were going to be more hard times, moments when things won’t go perfectly, but he was still willing to fight for her. He’d always fight for her, he’d acknowledge his mistakes and decide to do the work to make things right, because at the end of the day, she was worth it.

“I’m sorry,” Ony said quietly, a bit shaky, unused to having to apologize. “I should’ve never said those things. I should’ve never let it get out of control. I—I should’ve never said that mean shit to you. I just got frustrated, and I didn’t know how to fix it in front of everyone.”

Milana’s palms came up to press over her eyes, taking a trembling breath in and out. Her breathing hitched as she finally let her arms fall to her sides, the tension in her body slowly easing, though the rawness of everything still clung to the air around them. She didn’t look away from him, but her lips quivered as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was h-horrible, Ony. What we said to each-each other-”

Her words cut off, trying to stay in the moment with him, forcing herself to stand in the uncomfortable feeling to get it out. “I f-felt like I was losing you, like… like nothing I did mattered.” He had apologized, had bared the weight of his regret, but what were they going to do moving forward?

He swallowed, nodding, her words settling in. “I know. I messed up, I said things I shouldn’t have. I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted. I need you to know how sorry I am.” The words were rough, but honest. Ony wasn’t trying to dress it up, wasn’t trying to make excuses. He just needed her to hear him, needed her to understand that he was afraid of losing her.

Milana stood there for a moment, her face unreadable, and Ony thought she might just close the door and walk away. But then, she stepped aside, just enough for him to come in. He didn’t move immediately. He stood frozen for a moment, his heart thudding in his chest, at what it meant. However, seeing her standing there, the hurt still clear on her face, he couldn’t hesitate anymore. He stepped inside, slowly and cautiously, giving her a bit of space even though his body was a little crowded in the small entrance.

Ony took one step closer, willing his hands to not tremble as he reached for hers. “Please… don’t shut me out. Let me try to fix this, I don’t want to lose you. Not over something stupid.” She didn’t answer right away, but she didn’t pull her hands back either. For the first time that night, there was a softness in her gaze, just the faintest glimmer of hope that maybe, she wasn’t ready to give up on them.

“I’m so sorry too,” She paused, taking a breath, trying to find the words that could make him understand how apologetic she truly was. “I never wanted to hurt you, just wanted to protect us from everyone. I’m just scared.” He listened intently, brushing her curls away from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin, grounding himself in the softness of her.

“Y’don’t have to be scared, Mama. I’m here.” Milana took a shaky breath, then another, before finally taking a step closer to him. Her hand, trembling slightly, resting it on his chest, over his heart. She met his eyes and nodded, as if she were finally beginning to believe him. Her shoulders softened as if allowing herself to be held by his presence.

Ony’s heart surged in his chest as he reached for her, pulling her into his arms, his hands gentle but firm around her waist. She didn’t resist, didn’t pull away, and as he held her close, her arms wound around his neck, her body finally relaxing into his embrace. In that space, they were closer than they had been in hours. Their breaths, shaky and soft, seemed to synchronize, the silence between them holding more meaning than any words could.

Milana pulled back slightly, her forehead resting gently against Ony’s, her breath warm against his skin. The space between them felt like the whole world had contracted into something small, intimate, and undeniable. Everything else felt inconsequential. The hurt, the words, the distance they’d felt earlier seemed to vanish in the quiet of the moment. It was just the two of them now, and for the first time that night, it felt like things were right again.

His fingers gently cupped her face, thumb tracing the soft curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed, the tenderness of it overwhelming her. The tension that had been coiled so tightly inside her, that heaviness that had weighed on her chest since their argument, slowly began to release. She felt safe here, in his arms, even though they were still picking up the pieces of their love.

As if they both couldn’t stand the distance any longer, Ony leaned in. It was slow at first, like they were both testing the waters, unsure if the kiss could bridge the gap that had formed between them.

Then his lips brushed against hers in a way that made Milana’s heart skip, reassuring her that everything would be okay. It wasn’t a grand, sweeping gesture, but it was everything they needed. It was forgiveness, and love, and the promise that they would always find their way back to each other, no matter how lost they might get.

But soon, the kiss deepened, moving faster at a steady pace, the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could. The kind that had him gripping her tighter, pushing her backwards until her back touched the bathroom counter, holding her still there. Needy pecks starting to smack together feverishly, kissing harder than they ever had. Their hands getting tangled in each other, pulling intently to bring the other closer.

“Wait-” Ony pulled back, wanting to step away, but her hands wouldn’t let him. Her eyes getting misty again as she tried to keep them there, needing him to touch her more desperately than she realized. “We’re going too far, I should...” Milana couldn’t stop pressing kisses all over his jaw, distracting him so much that he was having a hard time stringing together his words.

“Please?” She asked, his eyes widening at the implication. He hadn’t done anything since their first date, keeping his hands as respectful as possible, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. But, now she was giving him the green light he needed to satisfy her in all the ways he wanted to. “T-Touch me, please? I need it-”

He spun her quickly, facing her away from him and towards the mirror instead, his head dropping down into her neck to hide how heated her words made him. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his hips trying to stay away from pushing into her unless she wanted to feel how hard he was getting. “Need me that bad, Mama?”

Milana gasped softly at the sudden touch but relaxed almost immediately, leaning back into him. Ony rested his chin on her shoulder, pulling her a little closer. The warmth of her body, the softness of her hair, the rhythm of her breathing—all of it felt so right, so natural.

His hands circled around her hips, dropping down to where her carpis covered her belly, his fingers skimming over the jewelry underneath. Ony was eager to get his hands on her again, having to bite his lip to keep from revealing the smile he was sporting, happy to help her feel everything he’s been wanting to give her. “Want me to touch you here?” He made sure to ask again, massaging her reassuringly in case she needed a break.

“Mhm.” She mumbled out, rushed as she wiggled, grinding slightly against him. Their eyes locking through the mirror in a flash, his boring intently into hers, holding her a bit tighter.

“Say it, Mama.” Ony urged, watching amusedly as she huffed impatiently, Her gaze bouncing every which way now, cutely pursing her lips in thought over his request.

“Need you to-to touch me, please?” Milana could barely look at him while trying to string that sentence together, but it came out truthfully nonetheless. He smiled at how shy she was acting, pressing a nice kiss to neck right under her ear, letting her take a few deep breaths before he did anything.

Slowly, a hand slipped down her pants, easily finding its way into her panties to touch her skin, making her jump. She lifted off of her soles, resting on her toes as she braced her hands against the countertop in front of her, shuddering as he went lower. His other hand left from around her middle, lifting higher to wrap around the top of her chest, just under her neck. Pulling her back into his him as he kept his lips to her ear.

“Fuck,” Ony groaned, smooth and heady, making her whine as he stopped for a second, just resting against her. She was warm, and the further he went the more fiery hot he felt. He settled his nerves, wanting to make this moment special for her, the weight on his shoulders resting on the fact that this was her first time doing this. “You’re doing so good, Baby.” His voice easing her as he whispered, his eyes locked on her face through their reflection. “So, so good.”

“Ony~” Milana moaned out as his middle finger dipped, sliding down her slick clit, her legs shaking as he went up then back again, making her cry out at the ticklish feeling creating pulses of pleasure deep within her belly.

“I’m right here,” She was quickly getting wetter right between her legs the more he explored, his finger dropping to massage at her entrance then rubbing the wetness against her swollen bud. He pet at her nicely, rubbing smooth circles into her to get her to relax. Ony’s slender middle finger was long and thick, the pad touch at and prodded at her open hole, beginning to push in all at once to rip it off like a bandaid. “You’re alright, you’ve got it, Ma.”

“Ahh!” He was careful as Milana squealed, squirming in slight pain from the discomfort. Her hands coming up to grip his forearm where it rested around her, closing her eyes tight as he moved around slightly, filling her up until it touched a part of her no one had ever been before. With how wet she was, it was easy to move. His finger curling, moving left, then right, turning to the middle when Ony heard a different moan pour out of her glossy lips, one that had his dick springing to life.

He delved deep, moving at a methodical, leisurely pace, the tip rubbing into her warm, spongey walls, favouring her g-spot especially when it made her gasp and squeak. He pressed against it and he knows he’s found it when Milana’s arching her back, trying to push her hips away to escape the jolts of pleasure. She had nowhere to go though, not with his body pressing right behind her, keeping her planted right where she stood.

“Take a breath, Baby.” Ony’s words commanding enough to break through the haze clouding her mind. Her head dropped down, clenching her teeth together as she tried to breathe like he said, exhaling a long whine as he pushed up harder.

Milana’s legs could barely hold her, his other hand retreating to slide under her arms to hold her up himself. “So gorgeous,” He said as tears formed at the corner of her eyes, involuntary whines filling up the cramped bathroom. The pace fastens, his finger curling with every stroke, her orgasm coming embarrassingly early while he hits her g-spot over and over again. Her pussy gushing as she clenched and unclenched erratically, walls convulsing around him. “So perfect, all for me.”

“Mhm,” She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth as he hit deep strokes and massaged his fingertip into her gummy walls. Her sticky juices all over his hand, his palm coming into contact with her sensitive nub, introducing the added stimulation just as she began falling apart. The touch had Milana gasping, fingers clenching around the sleeve of Ony’s hoodie, one hand gripping his wrist for leverage. “C-Cumming!” Milana gasped out, body trembling from the sensitivity she endured, his eyes watching as he waited for it, wanting to see the look on her face when she came.

“Eyes on me,” He grunts, reaching up and grabbing her face, chubby cheeks squished in between his fingers. Drool dribbles down her chin as she’s moaning louder, forced to stare at him through the mirror. “I’m right here, Baby. Just keep looking at me.” With Ony’s praises and kisses along her face, he throws Milana over the edge, making her cry his name, trying to keep the contact he asked for but finding it near impossible.

Her body felt electric, every muscle tightening at once, clenching down on him to tight that he wondered how he’d even fit at all, snugly nestled deep to keep petting at her soft spot inside. Her hips couldn't stop moving, full out grinding back against the bulge in his jeans, making him groan as he watched the pleasure take over her. Pretty pink nails digging into his arm as she rode it out in waves, wobbling back and forth into his hand, which he took as a silent plea for more.

Ony smirks, finally having Milana at his mercy, his ring finger dropping down to feel around her entrance as well. Adding another finger felt like an impossible task, yet somehow as she released all over his waiting hand, she was able to lube him up enough to glide the tip in next to his longer one. She nearly screamed at the feeling, legs going haywire as he forced her head back, standing at his full height to get leverage over her.

“It’s alright, Mama. Just gotta make sure you feel me.” He growled down at her, their eyes locked together as he pushed the rest of the way in, settling both fingers next to each other. His hand curled itself so deep that it was lifting her off her feet entirely, starting off with a slow stroke to get her acclimated. The sigh from her throat made her breathless, like she could pass out from the sensations overwhelming her body.

“‘S too much,” Milana panted, wiggling her hips away, but to no avail since he doesn’t let her. The rush of mind numbing pleasure made her hands scramble to hold onto him, his low chuckle causing more slick to escape. Tears rolling down again, this time it wasn’t because of their argument, but he was still causing it nonetheless.

“You’ve got it.” Ony’s words of encouragement were the only option she could take at this point. The whole room filling with the squelching sound of his fingers working her inside out. His arm arches, and his muscles flex under his top as he goes at it with more intensity, her mouth not able to shut up as he drove her closer and closer all over again.

“Wa-Wait!” She rushed out, whining in a strained voice as she clenched her teeth, bracing herself through the slight pain of overstimulation. Her belly winding so tight, so fast again that she could tell this one was going to wreck her. Milana tried to pull his upper arm away from her face, shaking her head as her other hand tried to pry his wrist from her pants.

“That’s a good girl. Let go for me, Baby. Shhh, that’s it, just cum. Want you to soak my whole fucking hand.” Ony felt how her pussy contracted and squeezed like crazy around his middle and ring fingers, wetting him so badly that it was showing through the cotton of her capris. He felt like he could bust in his boxers right where he stood, watching in awe as her knees tried to close around his hand to stop the inevitable, speeding up just to see how much more she could take.

“ONY!” The scream Milana let out was perfect, eyes rolling back so far that all he could see were the whites, mouth open as she locked into a deep arch, his fingers stopping their pumping to instead stroke her inside, churning her body into nothing but mush. He’s pushing his fingers up deeper, feeling around in slow motions, savoring her tight grip and the warm home she provided for them. She shuddered in his arms, sighing out in relief that she came, whole body spasming as her toes curled.

“Still with me, Mama?” Ony asked gently, pressing another kiss to her face, her chest heaving as she tried to calm down. Her heart felt like it could beat out of her chest, and her breathing was all over the place trying to regain all of her hearing back through the high pitch ringing in her ears.

“Mhm…” Milana mumbled, noticing the grip on her face was much looser, helping her head to stay up now. She looked up at him, feeling lovey-dovey because of his sweet tone, and how good she felt. He smiled down at her, withdrawing his fingers with a sloppy squelching little pop noise, and her hole missed him immediately, the feeling his fingers left behind still affecting her.

They quickly went up to Ony’s lips, watching in astonishment as he opened to push them into his mouth, groaning in delight at the taste. His eyes mischievous, catching the way her legs clenched together before shaking again, all her weight slumped into him as he held her up. If he wasn’t the one keeping her stable right now, she would’ve covered her face, scolding him in embarrassment.

“Gotta clean you up, Mama. Get you ready for school tomorrow.” He reminded her soothingly, pulling his fingers from his mouth, looking down at her as he leaned down to kiss her lips. She moaned again, trying to get closer but fumbling slightly, still trying to get her bearings. Their lips moving together so passionately that Ony thought about giving her one more just to really drive it home for her. But, they have a lot to do to prepare her for tomorrow, and that included cleaning up the mess he left behind.

Together, they took a second to bask in the moment they shared, turning his head slightly to let his cheek brush the top of Milana’s hair. His fingers gently let go of her cheeks to wrap around her again, tracing the curve down her torso to her hip, feeling the warmth of her skin, the delicate rise and fall of her breathing. He didn't rush it. There was no need to fill the space with noise, because in it, everything that had been said and unsaid already existed.

Without breaking the silence, Ony reached up and gently tucked her curls behind her ear. Milana’s smile was small but full of warmth. She didn’t need to say it. He already knew. And in that knowing, in the silent understanding they shared, everything felt right. It was a love unspoken but felt in every glance, every touch, every quiet moment. It was a love that could weather the hardest storms, not because it was flawless, but because it was real. And tonight, it was enough.

15.4k words???😵‍💫 Chat, what’s going on rn??? This was supposed to be like 7-8k words at most! Wtf? Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to top it next chapter. 😏 Hope everyone enjoys this craziness and I can’t wait for you to read the next one! xoxo - Bow 🎀

Taglist:

@kxllanxtdoor

@rintcrous

@blackgirlmagicforever

@hidd3nbimbo

@jungkooksleftballsack

@neighbourscat

@chosokamos

[slayfics]

Katsuki and Hitoshi fight over you.

Warnings: characters aged up, NSFW themes, angst

1k words

Explosions went off atop the building's roof as Katsuki continued to detonate his quirk. He thought it was his lucky day to run into Hitoshi. Until he realized what this fight would consist of.

Unable to expel his frustration in his usual insults and vile comments, due to Hitoshi’s quirk, Katsuki focused on setting off explosions.

Yet, Hitoshi had come a long way since his time at UA. Expertly bouncing around and using the capture scarf to swing and avoid the explosions.

Katsuki had wanted to knock the lights out of Hitoshi’s eyes for some time now. Ever since he found out about you two. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wrap his mind around you giving a hero like Hitoshi the time of day. What did you see in him?

So, when he ran into the brainwashing hero, he thought his wish was finally granted. However, now amid a spar with Hitoshi, the bitter realization sat in. He wouldn’t be able to say all the nasty words he saved up for the hero.

He wasn't able to tell Hitoshi that he wasn't a worthy enough hero to be with you. That he was a pathetic punk boy, Grimace-looking, Eeyore mother fucker. If he said any of the things he desperately wanted to, Hitoshi would brainwash him, and the fight would be over. Katsuki let out a huff of air and another explosion that Hitoshi dodged.

"We can talk like adults instead," Hitoshi said sliding across the roof.

Katsuki ignored Hitoshi's pleas and came at him with another attack that Hitoshi barely evaded.

"Trust me Bakugo, you don't want to do this," Hitoshi warned him. Katsuki's eyes flashed with fire, challenging Hitoshi. Despite Katsuki's continued silence, Hitoshi could understand his declaration of war clearly, and he wasn't lucky enough to dodge the next attack. Katsuki landed a blast on Hitoshi sending him flying and knocking against the roof railing.

"Fine, have it your way," Hitoshi said recovering from the blast and pulling on the railing to stand up. Finally, being pushed to his breaking point, Hitoshi decided to fight back. The only difference is that Katsuki's quirk worked with blunt power, while Hitoshi's focused on a psychological level. Hitoshi only had to break Katsuki into saying something, and he wasn't afraid to play dirty.

Hitoshi turned the dials on his voice modulator as Katsuki prepared his next blast.

"I want you to hear how she sounds for me," Hitoshi said, turning one last dial on his mask, as Katsuki lunged at him again.

That's when it happened, the sound that took the breath out of Katsuki's lungs. Your moans came from Hitoshi's mask. They were sweet and sexy as hell; the problem was you were moaning Hitoshi's name.

Katsuki fumbled for just a moment letting go of his blast, giving Hitoshi plenty of time to avoid it. Your moans came louder and faster from Hitoshi's mask, "Toshi... Toshi... Toshi~"

Katsuki bit his tongue biting back curses and rage, blood rushed through his mouth. The taste of copper dripped down his throat from the deep cut now on his tongue.

This was just an imitation of your voice. Yet, it sounded so real, and Katsuki knew it had to be true. Hitoshi had to have heard your moans himself to imitate you so perfectly. Worse. It meant he heard them more than once. Studied them.

Your moans increased to what Katsuki recognized so perfectly to be you reaching your climax, and it all came crashing down on him. You had cum for Hitoshi.

Katsuki lets out another blast, it's strong, too strong. Hitoshi barely gets out of the way. Katsuki huffs, fists clench. What's worse is you sound so fucking hot, and he can't help but feel the heat that runs through his body at hearing you again.

"We can stop this," Hitoshi offers, but Katsuki's frustration peaks, as more blasts fly. Katsuki's wrath and jealousy start to boil over into something he doesn't recognize.

Hopelessness.

Someone else is pleasuring you and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. The scene that flashes in Katsuki's mind makes his stomach sick. He can see the lavender-haired bastard on top of you, thrusting into your heat and the fucked-out expression on your face.

So much resentment and nowhere to put it, not even a damn word he can say for himself without losing this spar. He feels the lump in his throat form, and he can't stop it. His tongue almost bit in half, the tears finally form and cascade down his face.

Hitoshi notices this and gives Katsuki one last chance, "I'll stop if you do."

Katsuki keeps going, but his blasts aren't the same now. There is less passion behind them. It's sad to watch. Hitoshi barely has to dodge anymore. Katsuki's knees are weak, and his movements are slow and shaky.

"Not giving up, yet? Fine, hear what she said about you," Hitoshi speaks, changing his mask once more to imitate your voice.

Your voice breaks through Hitoshi's mask again. This time it’s your ugly cry that Katsuki knows so well. You're gasping for air as the words pour out, and it’s so clear it sounds as if you’re really here, “I loved him, but it wasn’t enough. He was always going to choose to be number one over me,” your voice cries and hiccups.

You had cried to Hitoshi about how Katsuki failed you, and now this was the outcome. Then comes the image in Katsuki’s mind, Hitoshi has his arms wrapped around you comforting you through your tears. Katsuki wants to rip you out of Hitoshi's arms, but he can’t because he drove you there.

Katsuki's knees give in, and he collapses to the floor. Gasping for air, his body racked with panic, fire extinguished. Taking rapid shallow breaths, he tries to regain himself.

Hitoshi walks over to the man he's brought to his knees without laying a finger on him.

"You done? Maybe next time we can talk like adults," Hitoshi mocks. Then departs, leaving the blond hero alone on the roof.

sinners: @izarosf1833 @stoned-anime-babe @lees-chaotic-brain @lunathewonyoungstan @sebsvertigo @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @peachsukii @reneinii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

[happybunny999]

(Dangerous monster!) Neglected Omnipotent fem reader x Yandere Batfam

Prologue

-

Gotham….a place known for its crime, drugs, poverty, corruption, violence and vigilantes and villains and how people in the city know the rules. Keep head down,don’t get involved,and if you see a group of vigilantes or the Batman fighting someone you pretend you didn’t

But that didn’t matter to you at all because any normal person would be scared of Gotham but you weren’t normal not in the slightest in fact you are not fully human and not a normal 4 year old either since your mother is a powerful meta human with so, well almost every abilities you could think of and that if you try and named them all it would take years to describe them all

You took after both parents with your hair being one side pink and the other side black just like your eyes that you were told by your mother to hide since as she said that if people found out about my powers and how I looked they would hurt me and only show your face to people you trust and you believed her. how could you not?

Your mother is a kind, caring and beautiful woman who never use her powers outside the house and who you know had gotten lucky with the one and only Bruce Wayne aka the Batman and after just one night she had you and never told Bruce about you since he already had sons and daughters

And well Gotham was a city that was cruel an everyway which is why she always kept you close to her when ever you and her go out for groceries and the bare minimum and you were happy with that and your mom because despite her never talking about your father or his other children you still loved her because you could always play with her and she was the one who was there for you

But the happiness was cut short when the day she told you that she would be right back from the store and gave me a small smile and before leaving she told me something that you will never forget

“Sweetie I want to know that mommy will always love you and remember to please stay in control of your powers”

(That was the last time you would see and hear from her)

Because remember how you said that she had almost every ability….that excluded her ability to heal and reviving herself too(guess you must have gotten more power then her) so when she want out for food and got in the middle of a gang war by accident and the end result was her getting shot in the head and chest while you were sitting at home waiting for her until realizing that she was gone when a couple of police officers came to get you from your home and take you to the police station with you cry the whole time

After that you were sitting on a chair holding your plushie and your mother’s scarf as well as the cloak she made for you as a man called Jim Gordon comforted you and after running some test and they found out Bruce Wayne was your father you are taking to the manor where a butler was waiting for you and greeted you with a warm smile as you held his hand as he led you inside the manor

And so your new, terrible life began.



[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

@batboysappreciationweek Day Two — Jan 13th

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 647

“Now, now, boys — settle down. Dinner is almost ready.”

Azriel was the first to listen to the soft warning of Rhysand's mother, slipping out of the tangle of tossed limbs, drifting towards the figure perched on the counter, watching the roughhousing with amusement sparkling in her gaze like starlight. 

You.

Cassian and Rhysand seemed none the wiser, hurling teasing insults, slaps and punches like there wasn't a world outside of their jesting.

You sighed softly, noticing Rhysand's mom was about to speak again, undoubtedly to tell the two Illyrians that they needed to stop. 

“Don't.” Azriel whispered as you reached for an apple in a bowl on the counter, fingers wrapping firmly around the ripened fruit as you examined the intensity. Fresh. Red with yellow backgrounds. Firm. Perfect. 

“I'm not doing anything.” You mumbled with your gaze already locked on the target.

He spoke lowly using your nickname, but it was already too late. 

Your arm reeled back before launching the projectile fruit right at Rhysand's back. It hit with a thud and he yelped in surprise and slight pain, immediately ending the roughhousing with Cassian. 

Rhys whipped his head around, his narrowed violet gaze landing on you. “What was that for!?”

You hummed nonchalantly and shrugged. “Your mom says dinner's almost ready. You weren't listening. . . So I took matters into my own hands.”

Cassian barked out a loud laugh, grabbing the apple off of the ground. He tossed it back over and you caught it easily, shadows coiling around your arm like a gentle caress. 

“You didn't have to throw it at me.” Rhysand huffed. “I'm your future High Lord, you know?” 

You raised your eyebrows and snorted. You knew, of course, that he was right. “Ooh, I'm so scared.” You murmured mockingly, sliding off of the counter. 

“You—”

“— Rhysand.” His mother said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He huffed in annoyance, grumbling under his breath as he shot a glare — which was apparently supposed to be intimidating — in your direction. His mother guided him towards his seat at the table, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she glanced at you momentarily. 

“I hope all of you are hungry.” She hummed softly, her gaze drifting over the three Illyrian males and you, before she stepped into the kitchen. 

The scent of soup and fresh bread drifted through the house, bringing a sense of almost mundane normalcy that was nice after a long day of training. . . Or watching a bunch of Illyrian powerhouses train from the comfort of a tree.

It was between the scents and general cozy atmosphere that made the house feel like home. Everything outside of those four walls disappeared at the end of the day. There were no war camps. There were no wars. There was nothing but four kids, and a woman who loved them all. 

Rhysand's mother handed you the small wicker basket full of rolls, lined with a clean cloth and you walked it over to the table — and like clockwork, Cassian ruffled your hair and took a roll right off the top before the small basket could even touch the table.

“Cass!” You hissed, swatting at his hands and arms.

He practically scarfed it down, hoping no one would notice, but Rhysand's mother always did. She chuckled quietly from the kitchen as she began ladling soup into bowls. 

She carried the bowls in two at a time, until she brought her own in, sitting at the rounded table with all the young fae sitting around her. 

The meal passed by with stories from the day and compliments on the cooking — as usual. 

Laughter was contained within those four walls, along with a brief argument over who would get the last dinner roll (you and Cassian were forced to split it in half and be civil). . . It was peaceful. It felt like home.

[kumkaniudaku]

Sorry 2024

Summary: This is Terry's sorry for 2024. He ain't gonna mess up no more this year.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

Previous: *Askew

Pastel blue light filtered through linen curtains and filled the quaint kitchen while Patrice maneuvered between the refrigerator and nearby counter. She spoke a mile a minute, running through a laundry list of important tasks and updates to keep Terry aware of the day’s needs. 

He halfway listened while he scarfed down piping hot oatmeal to satisfy post-workout hunger and used his index finger to scrub backward on game film from the previous week. His receiver core was shaky at best. They’d need to tighten up in the final game of the season if they planned to start their playoff run strong and remain in the hunt for a the ever elusive state championship.

“Honey, don’t forget I’m driving your truck to work because you’re getting my oil changed during your lunch. Where are the keys?” The sugar-sweet lilt in her voice reserved for Terry and Terry only went mostly unnoticed by her husband. 

“Yeah. That’s good, baby.”

Patrice paused packing her lunch and shifted her weight to one side with a hand on her hip. “You’re not even listening to me.” 

“I heard you,” he answered, finally looking up. 

“What did I say?” 

“That you’re taking the leftovers. That’s good with me. I’ll grab something on base.” 

“I said that fifteen minutes ago. Strike two.” 

Terry’s mouth hung open for a half second as he thought back through their one-sided conversation. Admittedly, his mind was split into a million different streams of thought. Work problems, coaching responsibilities, household bills, the incoming holiday season, and its host of arrangements all fought for his attention day in and day out, leaving little room for intentional quality time with his wife. 

For Patrice, the indifference toward her when she talked to him was frustrating and getting old. On too many occasions she’d forgiven him for staring off into space or flat-out ignoring her when she spoke. If silence is what he wanted, she was well on the way to granting his wish. 

Swallowing down a gulp of water, Terry rushed to respond. “Woah, woah! Two? What was the first?” 

“I asked you to turn the dryer on last night while I took a shower and guess who woke up to wet clothes this morning? C’mon. Guess!” 

“Oh, shit.” Terry’s face contorted as he winced at the memory finally returning. 

“Oh shit. Go away.” She mocked with an exaggerated deep voice before rolling her eyes and making a face. Mimicry, in his experience since the tender age of 15, was usually the prelude to a vicious attitude that had turned many into sworn enemies for life.

“My bad, Treece. I started wa-” 

“Watching tape and forgot. Sing me a different song, Terrence.” 

The disappointment etched in her beautiful features sent Terry’s stomach into the soles of his feet. Patrice’s full lips sagged into a heavy frown as she wrestled food containers into her lunchbox without looking in his direction. He could take her mumbling her anger or sending more than a few curse words his way. But the sadness in her silence was too much. 

After pressing pause on his screen, Terry took measured steps toward Patrice to avoid disturbing an angry lion. 

He touched her hip first to test the waters. When she didn’t reject him, he moved in to take up space behind her and pull her back against his body. He pressed a soft kiss behind her ear. “I won’t make excuses. Forgive me, sweetheart. It won’t happen again.” 

Resistance faded slowly but surely as he nuzzled his nose into her neck between kisses. Tense muscles melted under his touch, relishing the extra attention meant to settle a disagreement. Anger fought to remain the chief emotion. Everything in her wanted to continue forging a war path until she was satisfied with the destruction. But she’d always had a weakness for this man with a smooth baritone and big hands that he loved to rub up and down her body.

She kissed her teeth before turning to plant a kiss on his cheek as a silent truce. “Whatever. You’re lucky I like you more than most other people.” 

“What I gotta do to get that like to a love before you leave the house?” 

Patrice pulled Terry’s bottom lip into another kiss and smiled. “It’d be great if you confirmed you used your mama’s Costco card to get the study hall snacks like we talked about.” 

Terry froze. For days he’d had the nagging feeling that he was neglecting a task. Something important but vague among all of the other thoughts and responsibilities swirling in his head. He’d hoped for a reminder, but not like this, not on the heels of wriggling his way out of Patrice’s wrath only moments before. 

Ever perceptive, Patrice didn’t need him to speak to know that he’d, once again, missed a memo. Anger was back from its short hiatus and making her body hot to the touch in a way Terry had been spared from his entire life. 

She fought to wrestle free from his grasp, her body thrashing until he relented and let her go. Terry watched her stomp around the kitchen, snatching items from the counter and forcing them into her bag on her way to the front door. He remained hot on her heels with pleas to make things right on his lips until she stopped short at the coat closet.

“Strike three! You’re so fuckin’ selfish sometimes, Terry, I swear.” She grumbled as she swapped her car keys for his on their shared personal items hook. “I thought you would grow out of that by now but here you are, damn near 33 years old, and still doing the same shit.”  

The dig at his past transgressions stung more than Terry expected. He tried to maintain his composure though the wounded man inside wanted to get to the bottom of why she’d chosen to toss such an insult out so casually. 

He took a deep breath to quell the combative questions clawing through his throat while he watched her shrug on her coat with spite in her eyes. “Look, I messed up. We don’t need to start throwing jabs back and forth. How can I help?”

His attempt to reach out for her hand was thwarted once she snatched away to yank open the front door.

“Terrence, the time to help was early this week. Hell, last night even. I don’t have time for your sorry this morning. I gotta go figure this out by myself yet again.” 

Immense guilt attached itself to Terry, producing a heavy heart as he tried to make sense of Patrice’s most venomous blowup to date. Never had she been so crass toward him, not even when he deserved it most. She’d always been the pinnacle of grace and forgiveness. What scared him most was the suspicion that she was more unhappy with his disappearing act than she’d let on in all their honest talks about their path forward after heartbreak. Half of him wanted to chase her into the early morning chill, stop her from leaving, and convince her to call in so that they could sort through every issue, past and present, until they were back on the right side of newlywed bliss. Rational thought told him that some things were best solved through action.

Bitterness fueled the remainder of Patrice’s day. Jokes in the breakroom were no longer funny. Her class clowns were less charming by fourth period. A fierce bout of irritability resulted in a pop quiz for her senior AP English class for not participating in the group discussion to her liking. Every second of every minute carried a dark, heavy cloud that she couldn’t shake. 

She wanted to scream at Terry until her chest caved in from exhaustion. She wanted to throw things across the room, destroying every item in her path until the sting of compounded letdowns, actions he wasn’t even responsible for, was distilled back into the tiny box of rage she kept tucked away in her heart. She kept it hidden on purpose. If it ever got loose, there was no guarantee she could fix the damage it left behind. 

Once school bells had rang and children were carted off to their respective homes, Patrice sat behind her desk with a small committee of cheerleaders congregating in her classroom. She kept her focus on grading the mountain of quizzes she’d created for herself, silently ready to give everyone extra credit for the attempt. 

“Ms. Ellis,” Alana, her captain, started as she dusted Doritos remnants from her fingers. 

Mikayla cut in. “It’s Mrs. Richmond now. She got married! You see her ring.”

“And you ain’t invite us?” Alana gasped, pretending to be offended. “That’s cold Mrs. Richmond. I thought we were cool.” 

“We’re cool, Lana. I didn’t know I was getting married until it happened. No one was invited.” 

“Can I at least see that big ol’ diamond up close?” 

Young girls with fairytales and romance novels seared into their perception of love begged for a chance to see Patrice’s wedding band up close. With more energy, she would shoo them away and redirect them to the bulletin board they abandoned to snack and gossip amongst each other. But arguments before work were taxing and all she could bring herself to do was push away from her desk and join them in the center of their circle with her hand outstretched for their inspection.

Oooh, ahhs, and everything in between overlapped as each young lady took her turn running their fingers up against the clear stone and white gold band engraved with her new initials. 

“I want me a ring just like this!” Camille explained as she took a picture to send to her boyfriend. 

“Can we see your husband? Is he nice like you?” 

Patrice paused. “Uh…yeah. He’s a nice man. You all should be with nice boys, or girls, or whoever you like. Don’t allow anyone to be anything less than nice to you.” 

“Okay, but can we see him,” another girl reiterated. 

“It’s Coach Richmond, duh,” Mikayla exclaimed. “They got the same last name. And they was in this old yearbook together. I saw it in Ms. Shields's class when we were having a yearbook meetin’.” 

More oohs and ahhs, this time fawning over the new football coach on campus and the picture Mikayla had saved to her cellphone. Patrice listened to them gush over the thorn in her side as she eased into a desk to take the pressure off her aching feet. 

Camille looked between the photo and Patrice with a smile. “He was your boyfriend when y’all went here?” 

“For a little bit. Right before we graduated. But we broke up that summer.” 

“How come?”

“He wanted to go to the military and I wanted to go to college,” Patrice answered after a deep sigh. “So, he went his way and I went mine because I wasn’t changing my mind. Remember that. Do what you wanna do. You have a whole life ahead of you.” 

The girls all mumbled some version of their agreeance before another question pushed the tea session forward. 

“Then how did y’all get married. He came back?” 

Patrice smiled at the memory of Terry standing on her porch that fateful summer morning. “Yeah. He just…came back. We talked and never stopped talking after that until he became my husband.”

“Did he say sorry at least?” 

“He always says sorry. All the time. He’s nice like that.” 

A chorus of swooning ‘awws’ rang out in the classroom and escaped into the hallway. Terry was nice like that. It didn’t matter that Patrice wanted to hate him and call him every name but a child of God. He always apologized and he always meant it. 

A distant smile covered Patrice’s face as she twirled her wedding band around her finger. 

Camille took the opportunity to poke fun at her coach. “Aww, look at Mrs. Richmond, y’all. She smiling big! You gon’ let him come to the AP Christmas party?” 

“That ain’t fair! I’m not in AP English and I wanna see him.” 

“Oh my God, we all gon' see him at the games. Calm down.” 

“Alright, alright, alright.” Patrice couldn’t contain her laughter at their eagerness to meet a man two times their senior with no interest in them outside of their connection to her. “Maybe you’ll meet him one day. Today, I need y’all to hurry up and-” 

A knock at the door interrupted Patrice, bringing her attention to a tall, slender young man who instantly turned heads. He smiled bashfully at all the ogling until Patrice redirected his eyes with a wave of her hand.

“What’s up, Deanté? You leave something in here?” 

“Nah. Coach Rich told us to bring some stuff to you. Where you want us to put it?” 

“Umm, I guess you can put it back here by my bookshelves,” she directed, pointing to the back of the room. Confusion created fine lines on her forehead. “I’m sorry, what’s happening?” 

Deanté shrugged in the way only teenaged boys too cool for school could before waving in the rest of his crew. Each of them came bearing the gift of snacks, carrying boxes of wholesale goodies to their intended place like worker ants serving their queen. Chips, cookies, pretzels, juices, and water stacked high along the wall instantly turned her quaint classroom into a stockroom until they’d delivered the final package. Bringing up the rear was Terry with flowers in one hand and a carryout bag from Patrice’s favorite bakery in the other. 

Pressed khaki slacks and a cotton polo fighting for dominance against his veiny bicep should’ve thanked him for making them look better than they ever could alone. Patrice wrestled her gaze away from his long legs to look away before she ended up flustered in front of impressionable children.

He lightly knocked against the door, his gaze soft and his smile welcoming. ��May I come in?” 

Like the audience track from a 90s sitcom, young girls squeal in his presence, making him chuckle. Patrice rushed to control the madness. 

“See, this is why I have to keep my eye on y’all. Head to the gym and warm up. I’ll meet y’all down there.” They groaned their displeasure in a last-ditch attempt to buy more time with Terry. She re-emphasized her instructions. “Go on. For every second I have to keep looking at y’all after I’m done talking, that’s a lap. One, two, three…”

Quick feet and the threat of additional exercise cleared the room quickly, leaving Terry at the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Patrice stood and straightened her turtleneck before inviting him inside. 

“Come in. Close the door behind you.”

Terry did as he was told in silence, hoping to appease the Queen in her castle. Patrice tried to remain stoic as she approached her portable lectern to thumb through the day’s notes and lesson plans. He deposited the flowers onto a nearby shelf then slid into a desk at the front of the class and waited for her to at least acknowledge him beyond a fleeting glance. 

Finally, she looked up and pointed at the white bag resting in front of him. “Is that for me?” 

“Yeah,” Terry smiled. “I haven’t seen you grab one in a while so I hope you still like the cinnamon roll. If not, I got the lemon loaf too. Your other favorite.” 

After all those years separating their adulthood from an entire semester of sneaking away during lunch for a warm, doughy signature roll, Patrice couldn’t believe Terry still remembered such a trivial detail. 

She bit her bottom lip to hide a smile as two short steps took her to the desk beside him. Metal creaked against the floor while they turned to face each other in seats too small for Terry who had come a long way from his high school physique. 

Terry watched Patrice quietly remove her treat from the bag and cut it in half with a plastic knife. She carefully placed one side on a clean napkin and passed it across the small gap separating them. 

She lifted her portion into the air and smiled a friendly smile. “Cheers?” 

“Cheers.” 

Their respective hunks of roll kissed the other briefly before they took big bites to satisfy early afternoon cravings. Terry chuckled as Patrice hummed her satisfaction with her eyes closed and shoulders lifted near her ears. 

A little piece of Heaven. He was happy to provide anything other than the strife he contributed hours earlier. 

“Thank you,” Patrice whispered once the delight of her first bite had passed and her eyes were open again. “It’s still my favorite. You were right.” 

He didn’t respond past a small nod and a small half smile as he watched her enjoy another bite. His thumbs nervously twiddled around themselves while he wrote and erased apologetic statements in his mind in a search for what to say next. 

“Treece, I can’t say enough how sorry I am.” 

“We don’t need to do this. I overreacted and threw things in your face.” She started, trying to stop the uncomfortable discussion before it could start. 

Terry remained steadfast. “No, you didn’t. You called me out and it was the right thing to do. I have been selfish and you’ve caught the brunt of that for a long time now. It’s not fair.” 

“I just…fuck.” Tears that Patrice had managed to keep at bay during work forced their way past her waterline before she could stop them. She dabbed at them with a napkin and took a deep breath. “I’ve had to be really independent for a long time. Relationships didn’t stop me from doing things on my own because they convinced me that asking for help made me weak. Then you came along and immediately took on more than I could’ve ever asked.”

“That’s what I’m here for, baby.” 

“Yeah, but when you stop all of a sudden or pick and choose when you wanna help, it makes me afraid that one day, you’re gonna stop altogether like everyone else. And I really, really can’t take you being like everyone else.” 

Another layer of Patrice had been shed to leave behind an emotionally raw, vulnerable woman searching for an anchor in her life. The tears were gone, but they left evidence of deep-seated hurt on her face. 

Terry reached across his desk for her hand which she offered without protest though she refused to look him in the eyes. He kissed her knuckles softly, paying special attention to her ring finger before lacing their fingers. 

Sad eyes looked across at her. “You’re my main priority. If you want me to drop all this extra shit, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Say the word and it’s gone.”

“I don’t want that. Be honest with me. Listen to me. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Okay,” he spoke into the inside of her wrist. “Give me a chance to be better.” 

“You already are.” 

Where misunderstanding has once festered, a flower of progress bloomed. They’d traversed uncharted territory as a unit to find common ground that would lay the foundation for years to come. 

Patrice made the first move toward reconciliation, standing from her desk to meet Terry at his side. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, tilting his head up to hers as she stood over him. 

“I love you. Always. I might still be a little miffed, but I’ll get over it. Promise.” She landed a flurry of kisses on his forehead and he accepted while he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“I understand. I’ll earn your trust again.” 

Fuzzy feelings and chaste affection in what they believed was a safe space were cut short when a small yelp and thud sent a group of girls crashing to the tile floor, pushing her door ajar.

Patrice giggled along with Terry as she turned to get a look at the spectacle. “That’s what you get for being nosey. Now get to the gym for real this time.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Richmond,” they all chanted as they scrambled to stand and scatter. 

Terry listened for them to exit hearing range before turning back to Patrice and leaning up to kiss her lips. 

“I’ll be done with practice at 6:30 sharp and come straight home. Don’t worry about dinner or anything else. Let me handle it.”

“No problem.”

Final kisses and another promise to be home on time sent Terry and Patrice in opposite directions with optimism pumping through their veins. Tomorrow would bring its own storms and issues to work out. But, those were tomorrow’s problems. 

Today, they’d lick their wounds and settle next to each other on the couch with love in their hearts and the taste of each other on their lips to make every hard time worth the end result.

-----

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[ofstarsandvibranium]

Broken Promises

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a master thief, given the task to steal a lightsaber from a Jedi temple. In the process of getting away, you run into someone you never thought you’d see again.

A/N: slight AU in which Qimir really is just some hot dorky guy and not a hot sexy Sith.

It brought you a sense of pride hearing Jedi scramble about in the middle of the night. Their false sense of security disintegrated after word reaching to them that an intruder had stolen the relic from them - a lightsaber that belonged to an esteemed Jedi knight.

You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you climb over the walls of the Jedi temple. You jump down, going into a tuck and roll. You regain your composure and look back down into your satchel, the saber still inside.

You pull up your hood and scarf to cover your face and waltz into the crowd of people celebrating the Moon Festival.

All kinds of people and species don similar robes as you wear. The colors of dark blue and light blue to represent the moons of Tython. Once every few cycles, the moons appear beside each other and is meant to grant good luck and fortune to Tython’s inhabitants. Thus a festival to celebrate that look and fortune emerged.

You knew because of the festival, everyone would be distracted, even the Jedi that lived at the temple that housed the relic saber.

You weave through the crowd, keeping your head low and a firm grip on your satchel. You hear a commotion and look behind you to see a group of Jedi making their way through the crowd, looking for you.

You continue the direction you’re going, trying your best not to look suspicious. As you turn a corner, someone takes hold of your wrist and pulls you into an alley way.

You hand immediately goes to your dagger on your hip. You use your weight to press the assailant against the wall, blade at their neck.

Your eyes widen when you see who grabbed you.

You yanked you hood back and pull your scarf from your face, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re supposed to be dead.”

You step back and sheath your weapon, “What are you doing here, Qimir?”

The man fixes his robes and sweeps some of his hair out of his face, “I heard a rumor you got hired for a job here. Thought ‘that’s not possible. I watched her die.’ Figured I’d see if I was wrong and,” he gestures to your being, “I was. Here you are living and breathing.”

You scoff, “Yes, I’m sure this is quite a shock considering you left me to die!” You sneer at the man.

He holds his hands up, “To be fair, that was a fatal blow. What was the point of staying?”

“Maybe to see if there was a chance I lived? Which there clearly was!”

You hear the glow of sabers near you and immediately start undoing your dark blue robe, “Switch robes with me. Now!”

“What? Why-“

“Now, Qimir!”

The man scrambles as he undoes his cloak, handing it to you while you toss yours at him. You both quickly re-dress as footsteps near.

“Okay, now-mmf!” Qimir’s words go interrupted as your lips press against his.

The glow of a blue lightsaber causes you to pull away with a gasp, “Oh! Um,” you giggle nervously at the Jedi who seemed uncomfortable to have witnessed you and Qimir in such a state.

The young man clears his throat, “Apologies, but, have you seen a suspicious person dressed in dark blue robes pass by?”

You snort, “A person dressed in dark blue robes? That’s like half of this planet right now.”

“You didn’t see anyone that seemed like they didn’t belong?”

You shake your head, “No, sir. To be quite honest we’ve been a little,” you gesture between you and Qimir, “preoccupied, as you noticed.”

The Jedi uncomfortably clears his throat, “Yes, well, apologies. If you do see or hear anything, please report it to the Jedi temple immediately.”

You salute to the man, “Will do.”

“Um, enjoy your night,” he says before he and the few other Jedi behind him continue around the corner.

You let out a deep breath and look back at Qimir, who was smirking at you, “Did you get better at kissing?”

You roll your eyes and tug him by the sleeve to follow you back out into the crowd. Stumbling after you, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“To meet my client and get my money.”

“Why are you taking me?”

“Because I don’t trust you not to turn me in to those Jedi.”

The further you walk from the celebrations, the quieter things become. Your hold on Qimir doesn’t loosen until you make your way to the forest where you hid your ship.

“Wow,” Qimir stands in awe of the vessel, “You’ve upgraded.”

“Had to since you left me to die and stole my ship.”

You two walk up the ramp and head towards the cockpit. You hear Qimir sigh as he follows you, “You’re still angry about that?”

You throw yourself into the pilot’s seat and start up your ship. Aggressively, flipping switches, pressing buttons, “Yes, Qimir! I’m still angry about it! We were a team! We were lo-“, you stop yourself, “We were friends. I thought I meant more to you than that. I was clearly wrong.”

You slowly bring the ship into the air and go full speed ahead, causing Qimir to fall backward right in his butt.

He groans as he does his best to bring himself to his feet, “I’m sorry! I am!”

Once in the atmosphere, you hit the hyperdrive and go into hyperspace.

You turn in the pilot’s chair to face Qimir, who’s looking down at you with a sad expression, “I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I am glad you’re not dead…and since I didn’t say anything to the Jedi-“

“Oh fuck off!” You stand and push past him, “Just because you didn’t turn me in, you think you deserve a cut?”

“I’m kidding….mostly,” he responds as he follows you to the sleeping quarters. He leans against the wall as you walk behind a changing screen.

“So…you didn’t really think to see me after all this time?” He asks.

You snort, “Again, you left me to die.”

“I don’t know what you would’ve wanted me to do, Y/N.”

After changing into comfier clothes, you stomp out from behind the changing screen, “To stay with me! Even if I were to die, I wouldn’t have been alone! That’s what hurts the most, Qimir! After you promised you’d always be at my side and that you cared about me, the time I needed you the most, you weren’t. You broke your promise.”

Qimir observes your broken expression, the facade of being collected and intimidating having melted away. He slowly walks up to you, slipping his hands into yours, “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be here if I still didn’t care. When I heard that you were alive and still taking jobs, I hoped, prayed even, that it was true, that you were alive. That I could see you again.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sigh, “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

“You made me work for your trust the first time. I’ll work for it this time as well.” He kisses your forehead and steps back, “Now let’s go get your money, shall we?” He shoots you that grin that made you fall for him all those years ago.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you mumble as you let go of his hands and head back to the cockpit to steer you towards your waiting client.

[buckyalpine]

A little longer

HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 

Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry

-

"It's been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with"

Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam's head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 

“For fucks sake Sam-”

"You need to get out more man, at least start dating. You don't need a whole girlfriend but a few dates wouldn't kill you. Or maybe it would, since you're what, 106?"

Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, his patience wearing thin. Dating wasn’t for him, not because he didn’t want to date but because he wasn’t sure who would even date him. He’d only just gotten comfortable talking to Sam though he’d never openly admit he actually enjoyed their conversations. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable, Peter had once told him he had a resting bitch face, whatever that meant. He wasn’t the most tech savvy unless it involved doing something illegal. He had a plethora of devices that could take down the US government at the push of a button he secrecy hoarded under his bed but God forbid someone ask him to pose for their Instagram story.  

Talking to a pretty girl was a completely different story. What would he even talk about? His time before the war involved a lot of nursing an injured or sick Steve back to health. After the war and his time in Hydra, he didn’t really have time for himself. He liked plums. The hobbit. He was thinking about getting a cat. Bucky internally groaned, maybe he’d find a girlfriend at the retirement home down the street; at least they’d have things in common. 

Sam cocked an eyebrow while Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. Usually he’d respond with a grumpy pout or complete silence but today his exhaustion had caught up with him. He debated on how to get Sam of his back, a dim, flickering, half broken bulb going off in his sleep deprived brain. 

"I already have a girlfriend Tweety bird"

The deafening silence that followed that statement made it clear both men were aware that was a lie. Sam snorted, shaking his head while they both finished they food, slapping a $50 on the counter before leaving. He looked at the super soldier, deciding not to press into the issue further for the night but he definitely wasn’t going to let it go that easily. 

5:30 AM

The buzz of his phone jolted him awake, the faint sound of the TV still playing in the background. Bucky felt around for his phone, tossing his sheet off, sitting up from his place on the floor seeing Sam’s caller ID light up the screen. 

“What are you doing next Saturday” Sam sounded unusually chipper, a hint of a smirk in his voice, a suspicious amount of enthusiasm for such an early hour. 

“Why” Bucky groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, going back to lying down. 

“Were having a cookout over the weekend, you should come”

“You woke me up to tell me what could have been a text message?” Bucky asked incredulously, closing his eyes, ready to let sleep free him from such a ridiculous conversation. 

“Ooo, white panther knows how to text now” 

“White Wolf” Bucky grumbled, regretting every telling Sam the name he had been given in Wakanda. “I’ll come if you just let me go back to sleep” 

"Alright, but bring your girl too"

There it was. 

He could feel the shit eating grin Sam was giving him over the phone, eye brows wigging up and down, all his perfect teeth out. 

“Whatcha say Barnes?” 

Sleep had disappeared into thin air as Bucky shot up, mentally kicking himself for the nonsense he’d gotten himself into. He fiddled with the corner of his sheet, hoping to find an out. 

"I thought you only invited family" 

"Hey, anyone that you're allowing within 3 feet of your personal space might as well be considered family" Sam snorted, not believing a single word Bucky had said the night before. The conversation moved on to a different topic, easing some of Bucky’s nerves. A whole hour had passed and Bucky was sure he was in the clear until-  

“Back to the matter at hand, you bringing her or not?” 

“Why are you like this, does being Captain America always come with the caveat with also being a pain in my ass, I’m not going to-”

Bucky was about to refuse until a knock at the door pulled him away from the conversation, the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the door. He pulled himself up, a smile tugging on his lips, knowing exactly who was on the other side, not needing to check as he untangled himself from the sheets. 

His sweet neighbor. 

Bucky wasn’t religious and he wasn’t a big believer in a higher power but there had to be something out there when people like you existed. Whenever Sam asked him why he stayed in the dingy little apartment that barely had windows and a closet for a bedroom, he’d insist it was because he preferred a small space and was still getting used to living a normal life so he wasn’t ready for another move just yet. 

The part he always left out was that his dingy apartment came with an absolute angle that lived next door. Kind hearted. Sweet. An absolute darling. You were one of the first people he’d interacted with when he moved in. All the nerves he had about living alone and growing accustomed to a regular life melted away the first day, when you came over with a plate of fresh cookies. 

He felt like a little boy whenever you were around, having the biggest crush on the prettiest girl on the playground, his mind going to mush whenever you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. Nope. No....? No. He narrowed his eyes at himself before making his way to the door. 

“Buck? Did your tongue rust-” 

“I’ll uh-I’ll think about it” He mumbled before cutting the call, a bashful smile on his face as he unhooked the chain and swung the door open. “G’morning doll” 

“Good Morning” You grinned, handing Bucky the plate which he gratefully accepted, his stomach rumbling between the butterflies that fluttered in his tummy. “I heard you get in last night, didn’t think you’d have time to do a grocery run or cook anything” You handed him a bag of fruits and vegetables, two of those bags full of plums. His favorite. 

“You didn’t have to do all this” If his cheeks grew any warmer he would’ve sworn he was running a fever. And he didn’t get fevers. 

“You’re out saving the world, I think getting you a few groceries is the least I could do. So, how’s the new Captain?” You had never met Sam in person but hearing enough stories from Bucky told you all you needed to know. No one else was better suited to take on the shield than him. 

“A pain in my ass even if he means well” Bucky smiled shaking his head to himself. “He’s been pestering me to get out more...start dating” He mumbled the last part, wincing. He’d fought off aliens, gone to battle alongside a tree and a talking raccoon, survived being help captive by Hydra but being boyfriend material? His flirting game was as strong as pre serum Steve's right hook. 

“Well, handsome solider like you, shouldn’t be too hard to find you a date” You felt your own face heat up as soon as the words left your mouth but wasn’t like it was a secret. There was no way he would have had trouble in the dating department; aside from being one of the most beautiful people you’d laid your eyes on he was also the sweetest. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman and with a pure and soft heart and if you didn’t get your shit together and control the way he made you weak in the knees-

“Not the same ladies man I was in the 40′s doll” He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling at your compliment, “Either way, I got myself into a mess with that” He smiled sheepishly while you cocked your head, urging him to continue. 

“Well, I sort of lied to get him off my case” Bucky blushed, rubbing the back of his head, his the pink on his cheeks deepening at your cheeky smile. “I-I told him I already have a girlfriend but as you can see-” Bucky waved into his empty apartment that showed no signs of human life, “-it back fired immediately because he's invited my nonexistent girlfriend to a cookout this weekend. In Louisiana. With all his family. And friends”

Bucky let his head hit the wall with a dull thump, cursing himself for putting a foot in his mouth. Sure he could just come clean and say he lied. But that would mean admitting he lied and that was worse because then Sam would give him shit for that, plus try to get him out more and- 

“What if- what if I went with you?” Bucky’s head shot up, blinking in surprise at your words, wondering if he heard you correctly. “I could pretend to be your girlfriend for a day, get Cap off your case. Only if you’re comfortable with it though”

“Really? You’d do that?” You giggled at his lost puppy expression, his eyes lighting up when he realized you were being serious.

“Of course” You smiled sincerely,  “I’d be happy to! Just let me know what time to be ready at and I’ll be all yours” 

All his.  

The little boy in his was running around in circles, his heart beating too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. The thought of you being his girlfriend for a day was more than he could ever dream of. Of course it was only pretend and he’d wouldn’t dare push for more; not when you deserved the world. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s nagging. 

Problem solved. 

*****

This was a bad idea. 

A bad, bad idea. 

Bucky had gone through at least 4 outfits, debating between an array of Henley’s, before settling on a blue one when he remembered you complimented it because it was blue like his eyes. He picked up his razor and then immediately put it down when he remembered you once said you liked the scruff on him.  Even if this was just pretend, every single part of him was on edge as if this were a real date. As soon as his enhanced hearing picked up your soft footsteps padding down the hall, he was right by the door, nervously chewing his lip. 

Bucky blinked, his heart nearly giving way at 106 years old when he saw you make your way down the hall towards his apartment. You were in a flowery sundress, with a large cakebox in hand, your sweet perfume already making him dizzy. If Sam didn’t kill him for lying, the crush he had on you would be the next thing to take him out. 

"You-you look beautiful"  And sweet. And adorable. And delectable. 

An angel.

You looked like an angel. 

"Thank you, you look good too Sarge" You looked down at Bucky’s chest instead of meeting his eyes, unable to look at his pretty face. His adorable face. Handsome face. That dimple on his chin. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Fuck, you had such a big crush on him. 

It was going to be an interesting day. 

*****

Bucky parked the car at Sam’s place, which wasn’t too far from the lake where everyone had gathered. Part of him was almost sad they had made it on time; the car ride over with you ending faster than he’d liked.  

“He wasn’t kidding when he said he only invited family” Bucky snorted, seeing all of Sam’s relatives there along with his closest neighbors, many of whom he’d met before. He took the cakebox from you, slipping his hand into yours, smiling when you gave him a reassuring squeeze. You both made your way over, hand in hand, your heart skipping a beat each time someone greeted Bucky, every single person over joyed that he’d finally met someone to call his. 

He made his way over to the grill where Sam filliped a few burgers; the new Cap grinning when he saw you both. There was no missing the sparkle in his eyes when he looked down to your hand in Bucky’s, noting you were was holding his metal one, no longer covered by gloves. 

Interesting. 

“You’re lookin’ good” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky, loving the way the soldier rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the way his cheeks were dusted pink. 

“This is y/n, my girlfriend” Girlfriend. Bucky loved the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, not feeling an ounce of hesitance. The word previously feeling so foreign to him now felt so natural when he had you by his side. And holding your hand. And hearing your laugh. And-

Relax Bucky, it’s just for a day. 

“I’m Sam, and it’s very nice to meet you” He pulled you into a hug, still curiously eyeing Bucky, genuinely unable to figure out where he’d managed to find a sweetheart like you. 

“Thank you for the invite” you giggled as he gave you a light squeeze before letting you go, inspecting the cakebox Bucky handed to him. He grinned at the fresh strawberries that decorated the cake, shamelessly plucking one off and popping it into his mouth. “Strawberry shortcake. A little white wolf told me it was your favorite” 

“Well if the big bad wolf likes you then I like you cause he doesn’t like anybody. You must be special” Sam mused, a part of him wanting to be skeptical but there was nothing, absolutely nothing made up about the Bucky was looking at you. He gazed down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars right in his room, an utterly lovesick puppy. You felt your cheeks heat up, burying your face into Bucky’s side while he chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss on top of your head. Damn right, she’s special. 

You both made your way over to mingle with the rest of the crowd, have no trouble at all playing the role of an utterly in love boyfriend and girlfriend. Bucky didn’t miss a single chance to press little kisses on your cheeks, every so often pecking your nose. His hand never left your waist, always holding you close to him, his face occasionally buried into the crook of your neck. 

You played your part almost better than he did, gushing over what a gentleman he always was to you, stayed tucked by his side, nuzzling under his chin, occasionally actually getting lost in his soft scent of laundry detergent, his cologne and something distinctly him. You made the elderly ladies giggle and blush each time Bucky did something adorable, proudly showing you off to everyone. 

He didn’t even let you eat without being the most perfect doting boyfriend. You’d both served your plates, finding a nice spot to sit under a shady tree; Bucky sat on the large lawn chair, secretly happy there was only one. You were about to walk off to get another when he tugged your wrist and pulling you back. 

“C’mere, I wont bite” Bucky grinned, surprised with himself as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a squeak, your nose bumping against his as you plopped onto him, lips nearly brushing his. 

“Smooth, Barnes. Remind me again, how you don’t have a girlfriend” You let out a breathless laugh, screaming to yourself on the inside that this was fake. He was playing the role perfectly, that was all. So fucking perfectly. 

Why was he so perfect. 

Bucky smirked, kissing your shoulder, letting you relax against his chest, wondering if you’d feel his heart hammering against his ribcage from how flustered he actually was. He easily maneuvered you so you sat comfortably across his thighs, his arm still securely around your waist. 

When was he ever this smooth. 

If anyone else was this close, he’s run for the hills, but now he was contemplating tossing you over his shoulder and running to Sam’s house, the guest bedroom was upstairs and two doors to the right-

“Well I’ll be damned, he really does have a girlfriend” Sam shook his head while Joaquin snorted, both men looking at you and Bucky with heart eyes while they sipping their beers from the docks. 

“You think they’re faking?” Joaquin nudged Sam’s shoulder, watching Bucky now fed you a piece of cake, still keeping you on his lap, sneakily kissing the cream from the corner off your lips between bites. You’d giggle every time, feeding him a strawberry, squealing when he’s playfully bite your fingers. 

“You can fake a lot of things but not the way he’d blushing and giggling like a toddler in a candy store” Bucky played with your fingers, intertwining them with his hand, his nose scrunching as he laughed at something you said. 

“It’s nice to see him like this” Joaquin had seen grumpy Bucky, grouchy Bucky, angry Bucky, scary Bucky, sleepy Bucky, just about every Bucky on the planet, but this? This was a first. Love struck Bucky. Charming Bucky. Happy Bucky. Simpy Bucky. Sappy Bucky. Giggly Bucky. Playful biting Bucky. Ready to get down on one knee if you’d let him, Bucky. 

“Steve always said he was a charmer, he wasn’t lying”

They couldn’t take their eyes off the way the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkled each time he smiled or the way you’d instinctively lean into him when he spoke. He’d tuck your hair away from your face, his hands lingering on your cheek for a second longer, giving them a glimpse of the man from the 40′s before the war,  youthful and innocent, his heart full of hope, a smirk that would make his best girl swoon; the both of you in your own little world. 

“He looks happy”

Sam had seen people look happy before. They’d smile but their eyes would be empty. They’d laugh but their voices were hollow. They’d look like they were on top of the world while sitting at rock bottom. The way Bucky’s eyes sparkled, his boyish laugh, the way he’d nuzzle into you, trying to be closer to you than physically possible, was more than just looking happy. 

“He is happy”

Bucky had completely forgotten about pretending with you, lost in how perfectly you fit in his arms. You had taken up your role very seriously, telling him how utterly handsome he was, never missing moment to peck his scruffy cheek or card your fingers through his short soft locks. You intertwined you fingers with his vibrainium ones, busing your lips against his cool knuckles. 

At some point in the afternoon, he’d slipped his jacket off and wrapped you up with it as evening crept around the corner. Not a single person doubted the nature of your relationship; at least four of Sam’s uncles had told Bucky to propose soon. 

You don’t meet a girl who makes you this damn giggly just anywhere, Sergeant. Hold onto her. 

****

Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for you more, you had fallen asleep in his arms, contently snuggled up in his jacket as the sunset over the lake. Most of Sam’s family had gone back home, a few close relatives still hanging around the boat, sipping on coffee. Bucky couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your forehead; he could get used to this. Cuddling up with you after date nights. Hearing your laugh. The softness of your lips. The way your hand always found itself in his metal one without hesitation. 

Fuck he wished this was real. 

You stirred slightly, a content sigh slipping past your lips at the feel of his kiss. Nothing felt more comfy than being wrapped up by the super soldier, his solid arms holding you close. You didn’t want to wake up, wishing you could sleep forever if it meant you’d be this close to Bucky all the time. The day felt like a dream; the exact dreams you had when you thought about your sweet neighbor. How it’d be for him to call you yours. To Be his girl. To make him smile. To make him laugh. 

If only it wasn’t just for a day. 

“You have a nice nap, baby?” Bucky smirked as you blinked awake, stretching on his lap like a cat before snuggling against him again. “My pretty girl” 

“Why wouldn’t I when my boyfriend is the comfiest spot to sleep on?” You teased, bringing your hand up to toy with the chain of his dog tags. Bucky chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, kissing your nose. There was no one around you both, though neither of you seemed interesting in dropping the act just yet. 

“You fit perfectly here, doll” He grinned, blushing when he hesitantly pulled you a little closer, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, resting on the back of his neck. 

“I think I like it here” You sucked in a breath as he rested his forehead against yours, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. His nose gently bumped against yours, his warm breath tickling your lips. 

“Me too” He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours sweetly, savoring every bit of your softness. He couldn’t help but deepen the kiss as you parted your mouth letting his tongue lace with yours while your hand made its way through his hair, tugging on his short locks. Bucky let out a groan, letting his hands drop to your waist, kissing you for as long as he could until you both needed oxygen. 

“Maybe we can pretend for a little longer?” Bucky broke away, panting, his forehead still pressed against yours. You giggled between breaths, peppering kisses across his face. 

“Just a little longer?” 

“Maybe- maybe forever?” He looked at you with his classic puppy eyes, his heart bursting when you pulled him in for another kiss; forever. Forever sounded good. 

A few years later

“So, you finally gonna admit I made this happen?” Sam whispered while Bucky snorted, shaking his head. 

“Not gonna happen” 

“C’mon, I made this happen, I caused this” 

“You caused chaos” 

Sam scoffed in fake offence, taking a sleepy Becca from Bucky’s arms while the soldier went to go check on you. “Now when do I get to meet my second God child?”

“In a few hours” Bucky stretched before making his way back to your room, smiling at your resting form. He carefully laid down beside you, letting his hand splay across your tummy; in just a few more hours there would be a little Samuel Grant Barnes in the world. 

“We’re really good at pretending” You murmured, make Bucky chuckle, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring that sat on your finger. 

“Maybe just one more baby after this? Really convince them, Mrs. Barnes?”

*

“Uncle Sam, tell me a bedtime story?” Becca pouted, having been at the hospital for hours, giving Sam the exact same face Bucky gave you. Her little bottom lip jutting out, big (y/c/e) eyes blinking up at him. He grinned, settling her on his lap before he made a thinking face before asking what she’d want to hear. 

“What kinda story, Beccs, an animal story, a super cool falcon story or Captain America story or a flying Falcon Captain America story?” 

“The chaos daddy said you caused” She giggled while Sam nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. 

“It all started when your daddy said he had a girlfriend...”

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​ @lolawassad​ @almosttoopizza​ @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​ @buckycallsmeaslut​ @kamaria-sweet-writes​ @charmedbysarge​ @xnorthstar3x​ @kryoee7​ @alina02​ @gh0stgurl​ @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​ @eralen​ @perdidosbucky-yyo​ @clqrosmgc​  

[latenightdaydreams]

Hi,hi😘🤗😄

Demon! König X Nun!Reader

First of all I honestly want to tell you that I really like your posts and the way you write your fanfics, every day the first thing I do after waking up is usually go to Tumblr, to check if you have posted anything.

Tôi thấy bạn đã từng viết về các linh mục! Konig X Nun! người đọc, sau đó tôi muốn khác biệt

The reader was awakened in the middle of the night by a strange noise outside the church, encountered a stranger drenched in the rain, because of her kindness and naivety, she gave the stranger shelter from the rain overnight and was raped.

Tôi sẽ vui cả ngày nếu bạn trả lời tôi về yêu cầu này, yêu bạn 😘😍🤩❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much🥰 It always means to much when I get such sweet messages😭🩷 And yes!!

Demon!König x Nun!Reader (fem)

🚫MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING🚫

As always, please skip if you cannot handle or do not enjoy graphic topics! Your mental health matters! I hope you all have a great day💗

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, virginity loss, religious themes

1.7k word count

⛪

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War has torn apart the village you live in, leaving only the solace of the Lord to get you through these dark and depressing times. You’re fast asleep in your bedroom within the church walls when a loud crashing sound wakes you up. Quickly, you stand, putting a scarf over your hair, then grab your purple robe and wrap it around your body. You pick up your flashlight as you walk through the dark church to inspect the noise.

You open up the front doors of the church and look around, shining the flashlight into the darkness as heavy rainfalls in front of you. Not exactly wanting to get wet, you decide to chalk the sound up to thunder. That’s when your eyes focus on the outline of a large individual. You shine your light on him to see it’s a man shivering from the icy rain. Instantly, you feel a strange feeling about this man. Where did he come from? You shake that feeling away, deciding to do what God would want you to do.

“Sir? Are you alright?” You call out to him.

König lifts his head as blonde hair falls over his face, his eyes roaming down your form hidden by your robe. Your voice sounds so sweet, almost as sweet as he’s sure you’ll taste. A little nun is left all alone when most villagers have gone off to war or died.

“Ja, I’m just lost.” He lies so effortlessly. “I lost contact with my family and I don’t know where I am.”

You look at him up and down. The man is massive and his Austrian accent is thick. With a quick glance around, you decide the holy thing to do is to let him inside, at least for the night. He could get sick in the rain and pass. That’s not something you could live with.

“Please, come inside for the night. I have a cot you could sleep on. Let yourself rest up as the rain passes.”

“Danke.”

König approaches the steps of the church, his tall stature towering over you as passes you to step inside the dark church. He looks around as you close the doors again, locking them once more. As you approach him again with the flashlight in hand, he gets to see your features up close, noting how delicate you look.

“I’m König.” He holds his hands out to shake yours.

“Sister y/n.” You place your much smaller dainty hand in his, his skin feeling warm to the touch.

His pale blue eyes linger on yours, seemingly reflecting in the darkness. The sight causes your heart to skip a beat, but you convince yourself it was a flash of lightning. König can smell your fear, your innocence. Such a tiny little thing, he will have fun ruining you.

“I have a cot and extra blankets that you can use for tonight. The priest might have left behind something you can fit into so you can let your uniform dry.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

As you walk forward into the back of the church, König follows closely behind; his eyes traveling up and down your body. You open up a door on the left, a closet where everything was kept. König lingers by the door as you bend over to grab blankets from the basket and then grab a cot.

“Let me, Sister.” König reaches out, grabbing the items from your arms.

“Thank you.” His kind gestures relax you and make you feel better about your decision to help him. “You can set up in the church and I’ll go to the old priest’s room to look for clothing.”

König nods, stepping back to allow you room to walk past. His eyes follow what direction you go in, lingering in his spot for a few seconds before dropping everything and following you. With quiet and careful steps, he follows you up a short staircase to the bedroom. The old wooden door creaks open. The room has a lantern lit showing a large cross with bloody Jesus hanging over the queen size bed.

You turn quickly to see König stepping inside, this time that deep sinking feeling isn’t as easy to shake away. He gets uncomfortably close, invading your personal space. One of his hands comes up and caresses the side of your face, slowly moving up to push your veil off and exposing your hair underneath. A light gasp leaves your lips as you turn to grab it, only to be stopped by his hand grabbing your arm.

“Please, let me go.” You whimper with fear in your voice.

“Sister y/n, so young and trusting. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust strange men?” He smiles, revealing his sharp teeth.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His grip on your wrist tightens as he pulls you to him. “I’m going to make you feel amazing, Sister.”

König grabs a fistful of hair in his hand, pulling your head back. With his other hand he pulls at the ties of your robe, pulling the garment from your body to expose the thin white nightgown you have on below. His hands grope you, grabbing at your breasts through the fabric while you try your hardest to fight back against him. It was no use; he is so much stronger than you.

With little effort he drags your body to the bed, slamming you down on it. The breath gets knocked out of you as your eyes go wide looking at him. His once blue eyes, now pitch black as he smiles down at you with a wicked grin.

“Wh—what are you?”

“An angel.” He says mockingly as he laughs at your fear.

König leans down and licks your face, causing you to try and turn away in disgust. He bites your jaw, both of his hands bringing your wrist together above your head. In one hand he holds your wrist, pining you to the bed right where he wants you. His other hand slips beneath the hem of your gown and caresses your inner thigh.

With all of your might you try to close your legs and stop his hand from gliding up further. It’s no use, his fingers hook the fabric of your white cotton panties and pull them off of your body. His fingers squeeze your mound before slipping his fingers between your slit.

“Please stop! You can’t do this!”

“I can and I am.” He presses his lips against yours in a painful kiss as his hand rubs back and forth on your sensitive clit.

Your both writhes underneath his body as he touches you. Shameful moans leave you and are muffled into his mouth. His tongue swirls around yours before biting down painfully on your bottom lip. You cry out as the taste of cooper fills your mouth.

“Stand up, get undressed.”

König moves off of you and begins to pull off his black shirt and undo his pants. You stand, trembling as you take your nightgown off. As you stand naked in front of him, you begin to pray. He laughs loudly listening to your prayers. He grabs your hair harshly and drags you to the end of the bed, pushing you down.

The only think you see when you look up is Jesus Christ on the cross, looking down at you as he pulls your hair. You don’t stop praying as König slaps his cock on your ass. He presses himself against your asshole before dropping down to the entrance of your virgin pussy. As you pray to send the demon König away, his hips buck forward slipping his cock into your tight cunt.

“Oh, you feel so heavenly Sister.” König’s voice a low growl as he thrust his hips into you.

Streaks of blood left behind from his fat cock tearing your hymen. Your face scrunches in a shameful mix of pleasure and pain. His cock bullies its way deeply inside of you, making sure he completely fills you.

“Please God, save me—”

“Ja, beg your God to save you, Taube.” His hips slam harder into you, your pussy fluttering as you try to adjust to him. Your prayers don’t stop. As if truly thinking you matter. “Your god doesn’t care about you. You’re all alone. Here. With me. I’m your god now.”

“No!” Your fingers grab at the bedsheets and squeeze as you feel how wet you’re getting, your body betraying you and enjoying every painful thrust.

König pulls his cock out and yanks you back by your hair roughly. “Open.” You do as he asks, fear in your eyes as you look up at him. He slips his cock into your mouth, moving his body over yours so that you’re leaning back between his legs. His hips begin to thrust into your mouth, shoving himself down your throat.

You gag; your hands hit his ass trying to stop but it only encourages him more. Tears pour down your face as spit begins to bubble at the edges of your mouth and fall down your face. Your body tenses as you try to not vomit. The salty taste of his precum of coppery taste of your cunts blood mix and add to the unpleasant sensation.

He pulls back, slapping his slobbery cock on your face as your gasp for air. “Pray to me, pray I fuck you.”

As you’re gasping for air, you feel broken down. A demon entered the hold grounds and is breaking your vow to the lord. God nowhere to be found as you plea for his salvation. With trembling lips, you pray.

“Dear König, please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy.” Tears roll down your cheeks as you gaze up with puffy lips.

“Perfect Sister. Perfect.” He pushes you back onto the cold wooden floor as he crawls on top of you, shoving his cock back inside of you.

After that night, your faith in God has never been the same. There is no feeling of the Holy Spirit around you, only the empty and cold walls of an old building. The demon named König visits you in your dreams to torment you. You often spend your days staring blankly into space, waiting for König to come back and claim you again.

[estellesdoll]

31 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

⊹. 𝒅𝒂𝒚 15 : 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖧧 . ָ࣪    ִֶָ

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒆𝒙!𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𓄹 ࣪.𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𓄹 ࣪.𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

It’s Christmas morning, and the house smells like cinnamon and fresh pine. Liora sits cross-legged by the tree, her little hands busy arranging her new dollhouse furniture with quiet concentration. The soft hum of holiday music plays in the background, and you’re curled up on the couch, a mug of coffee warming your hands.

A knock at the door startles you, and Liora looks up, her big eyes curious. “Mommy, who is it?”

“I don’t know, baby,” you say softly, setting your mug down as you stand. “Stay here, okay?”

When you open the door, your breath catches. Rafe is standing there, bundled in a coat and scarf, his cheeks pink from the cold. Snowflakes cling to his hair, and in his hands is a large, brightly wrapped box with a gold bow. His gaze softens the moment he sees you, but there’s a nervous edge to his smile.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice quiet.

“Rafe,” you breathe, glancing back at the living room. “What are you—?”

“I wanted to see her,” he interrupts gently, his eyes darting past you. “Just for a little bit. I know it’s not my day, but… it’s Christmas. I couldn’t not come.”

You pause, emotions warring in your chest. Things between you two had been complicated—messy, even—but the sincerity in his expression, the hope, was impossible to ignore.

“Come in,” you say softly, stepping aside.

Rafe’s relief is visible as he steps inside, carefully setting the gift on the floor. His eyes immediately find Liora, and his whole face lights up. “Hey, princess,” he calls gently.

Liora gasps, jumping to her feet. “Daddy!”

She runs to him, throwing her arms around his legs, and he crouches down, scooping her into a warm hug. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing at the giant box.

Rafe grins, his eyes flicking to yours for a brief moment. “A special present for my special girl. Wanna open it?”

Her face lights up as she nods, and he carries her to the couch, setting the box in front of her. You lean against the doorway, watching as she rips into the paper with uncontainable excitement.

Inside is a child-sized, pink-and-white play kitchen, complete with miniature pots, pans, and accessories. Liora squeals with delight, running her hands over the tiny appliances and pretending to turn the knobs on the stove.

“I can make cookies!” she exclaims, hopping up and down.

Rafe chuckles, his gaze soft. “Only if I get the first batch,” he teases, earning a giggle from her.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says, throwing her arms around his neck.

He holds her tightly, and then, almost shyly, he looks up at you. “There’s something for you, too,” he says quietly, pulling a smaller, neatly wrapped package from his coat pocket.

You unwrap the gift slowly, your heart racing for reasons you don’t want to admit. Inside is a silver bracelet with a delicate charm shaped like a star, its surface engraved with a date—the day Liora was born. It’s simple, but the meaning behind it hits you like a wave. The emotions flood you, and for a moment, you just stare at it in your hands, trying to keep your composure.

“Rafe…” you murmur, your voice catching in your throat.

He shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t take his eyes off you. “I know things aren’t easy between us,” he says, his tone quiet but sincere. “But I just wanted to give you something that shows I’m thinking of you... of both of you.”

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