#which like fine if he hated it and doesn’t want to tell me fair but like i want to talk about it still skdhfjfj

[violetisconfused]

Okay okay okay. Hear me out: Apollo x Telemachus.

I know I sound mental rn but it would be REALLY funny, and honestly kinda cute. Like you cannot deny that Telemachus would be Apollo’s type. I fear local pretty young prince is exactly the kinda person Apollo would be like “yeah I’d hit” and Tel would honestly probably go from “why is this god talking to me so often?” to “wait is he flirting with me?” to “wait but I don’t like men… but like Apollo’s kinda cute… wait no!” to “okay so maybe I like men but do I wanna get involved with a god?” pipeline of self discovery era all because the god of archery and music came down and started flirting one day

Athena is VERY unimpressed with her half brother for this one of course 😔 she is in fact their biggest hater (Ody is close in second he wants Apollo AWAY from his child)

Penelope and Hermes are very supportive of the relationship though. Penelope more in a “as long as you’re happy and he doesn’t hurt you or get you hurt I’m fine with it” way. Hermes though, he actively encouraged Apollo to start flirting with Telemachus to begin with (great grandpa being a wingman to get you set up with a god? More likely than you think)

As for the rest of the Olympians? Zeus is wondering why his existence is haunted by Odysseus and his family, same with Poseidon. Artemis is entirely unsurprised her twin brother has decided to start dating a mortal prince, it’s very on brand for him. Ares couldn’t care less, same with Hephaestus. Aphrodite is actually a big fan only because she can tell that Apollo genuinely likes Telemachus. Hera is indifferent about it but I like to imagine that after God Games she’s a slightly better step mom so she’s relatively supportive of Apollo’s prince rizzing endeavors.

The relationship itself is surprisingly highly functional and really normal despite Apollo being a god. For a long time Telemachus makes an internal vow to himself not to fall in love too much because he’s aware that Apollo tends to switch up on how much he loves his lovers sometimes and doesn’t wanna get hurt but after a very long discussion and Apollo swearing he’s serious about this (like Hyacinth levels of serious about this. Bro is LOCKED IN) and after staying up literally all night thinking about it Telemachus decides to seriously give this a chance and stop acting weird and it goes extremely well actually. They hang out daily, usually in like the woods or something or down by the shore where there isn’t anybody around simply because neither of them really wanna deal with other people knowing they’re together. It isn’t because either one is ashamed of the other or anything, just simply wanting privacy and knowing they wouldn’t get that with Telemachus being prince and Apollo being a literal god so people would probably just be staring the whole time.

Apollo also gives Telemachus gifts like crazy. He’ll write him love poems and songs all the time and is always equally as excited to show him every time (Telemachus is always just as excited to hear it because he’s never had anyone love him like this before)

Now the funniest part of this whole thing: the era where Apollo is trying to woo Telemachus. He 100% used serenading but stopped after Odysseus tried to shoot him with an arrow (to be fair it was the 10th time Apollo was outside the palace singing so the attempted shooting was pretty valid. Ody wanted his sleep)

Then Apollo started bugging Athena and tagging along with her whenever she’d visit the royal family (she knew what he was trying to do but there’s no stopping Apollo once he wants to woo somebody. Not for a lack of obvious hating though. Very actively hates on his flirting. Apollo is extremely un-subtle with his flirting too which makes it even funnier because 9/10 Telemachus just runs away because he’s never been flirted with before

Then after the flirting just turns into Telemachus avoiding Apollo at all costs (Telemachus is in his questioning his romantic attraction era during this but ofc Apollo doesn’t know this) Apollo just starts leaving love poems once a week (this goes on for about a month so four poems in total).

Then yk as I said before Telemachus decides to give it a shot blah blah blah gay people real they kiss the end 🥳

So yeah there’s me explaining my crackship. It’s essentially just: “Apollo likes pretty boys and Telemachus is a (very awkward) pretty boy”

[lcriedlastnight]

Enemies to lovers with Lando. Someone says something bad / criticises Lando in front of reader and she immediately defends him without knowing he’s behind her and can hear everything. And maybe as she’s defending him she’s also unknowingly/ without realizing / accidentally admitting her feelings for him

i love this idea! thank you so much anon, love!

tw: fem!reader, swears, logan hate (do not support!), little lando hate, not spellchecked or proof read, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 2k

you and lando had never gotten along. you’d never gotten along and you’d never tried to. it was just one of those things, you supposed. you didn’t make a big deal out of it as the two of you shared a friend group and didn’t want to cause any issues between the group. lando however, well it seemed like he had a serious issue with you.

at first you did try to get along with him, his ego was massive and that really did put you off wanting to be friends with him but you could be fake a friendship with him. a friendship out of convenience was perfectly fine with you. lando was just having none of it. he’d ignore any conversation you would try to have with him - even in a group setting. you had tried just not talking to him but even that left you on the receiving end of dirty looks and mean comments. you’d had enough with it so you stopped caring about him entirely.

well that’s what you told your friends. in reality; you cared what he thought, you looked for his reaction to any story that was told in the room and you looked to see if he laughed at your jokes. every single time you were left with blank stares and bored expressions.

your friends noticed this and tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you but because of lando’s stubbornness, there was nothing they could really do. he really did make things difficult sometimes.

you had all gathered around the drivers house to celebrate a mutual close friend’s birthday. you and you close girl friends had gotten ready for the get together at your house and headed to the party together.

“so is the vibe for tonight party or chilled?” your friend asks as you jump out of the taxi outside lando’s apartment complex. your other friend snorts in amusement before she replies.

“girl, we’re at lando’s what do you think the vibe is?”. you frown. the party vibe wasn’t really what the birthday boy enjoyed so you hoped for his sake it was more a chilled, hanging with friends vibe. you also didn’t really dress for a party, your favourite pair of jeans on as well as one of those cute baby tee’s you found on tiktok.

“i hope not. fin doesn’t really like parties.” you remind them as you press the buzzer for lando’s. it rings for a second then you hear his crackly voice through the speaker. “hello?”. he sounded sober. good start.

“can you let us in please?” you ask into the intercom. there is a pause before lando replies.

“no. we’re full.”

your friend rolls her eyes at his words, knowing all this is was because he was talking to you. if he would just stop acting like a dickhead for more than two seconds people could maybe get things done. meanwhile, you huff at lando’s words opening your mouth to complain to him but your friend cuts in. “just let us in, norris.”.

she sounds fed up enough already that lando immediately tells them to “head on up, then.” she storms ahead of you and your other friend. you look at each other with annoyed looks.

“to be fair it’s a good thing she did that because you haven’t fell into his traps in months.” she reminds you as you reach his door which was open waiting on you and your friend. you nod. it was true, ignoring lando was really going well for you… from your friends point of view anyways. your mind was still plagued with thoughts of him.

your friend walks in before you so make sure to close the door behind you.

“so i guess we were wrong. looks like it is a chill night.” you friend says as she sees your friends dotted around the place, conversing. it looked very adult. weird for something lando was in charge of planning. you didn’t know he was capable of being anything except snide and rude. maybe he could be thoughtful and caring to the people he loved. the thought makes you frown but before you can linger on it for too long your friend grabs you both a drink and you take seats on his couch.

you notice you’re the last ones to arrive and try to find your friend that stormed off earlier. your eyes rake around the room until they land on her sitting with fin, the birthday boy. they looked cosy. ‘good for them’ you think as you take a sip of your drink. you notice lando sitting with his friend, max, on the couch next to you. you glance in his direction then redirect your eyes.

after maybe half an hour of socialising and drinking, fin announces (with your other friend hanging off his arm) that he wants to play a game of truth or dare. you thought it was a bit childish but everyone agreed so you did too. you all sit in a circle and decide to place a bottle in the middle.

“this is so high school.” you say to your friend, who just laughs in agreement. you had ended up sitting next to max on one side and your friend on the other. you quite liked max, he was nothing like lando, which helped you like him a lot more.

“since it’s my birthday, i’ll go first!” fin says as he spins the bottle. it lands on max. fin grins before asking the question you know you’re going to be tired of hearing after tonight.

after a couple of rounds a few of you disperse to get drinks and use the toilet. you were pretty sure some went for a smoke break. you didn’t even know anyone where smoked. lando was one of the people that had left, he went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and max. the good thing about not being able to let anyone know you were staring at lando was that you got good at lip reading and hearing things from a distance. you also got good at seeing things out of the corner of your eye. it was during your turn when lando asked max if he wanted another drink. you felt like you were keeping tabs on the boy, you were starting to feel a bit creepy as you answered your question.

the game continues as people (lando) leave. it was your friend turn but she was a bit more than drunk and would only accept a question from fin, the man she was clinging to all night.

you can all see the wheels turning in fin’s mind as he thinks up a question. “how good of a driver do you think lando actually is?” he finally asks.

everyone perks up at the question, wanting to see if your friend had any unpopular opinions on lando’s driving skills.

“he’s shit. like- that’s him just won his first race? after racing for like five years? that doesn’t really scream future world champion does it?” she criticised, words slurred. your face is screwed up in disagreement. you bite your tongue though, knowing she was drunk and probably just wanted to start something. you’re sure you heard someone gasp.

“you don’t really mean that?” another one of your friends asks in shock. your drunk friend only nods.

“i do. he’s bad. like he’s not logan sargent bad but he’s mid at best and i don’t understand the hype. i never have and i don’t think i ever will.” she smiles a little and that’s what gets you.

“i’m sorry are you being serious right now? firstly the audacity you have to sit there, shitfaced, bashing on the person who’s house you’re inside and who bought you the drinks in the first place is absurd,” you start, bring her down a peg. you hear footsteps behind you but you’re too pent up to acknowledge them right now.

“secondly, have you even watched a race? ever? or even recently? because if you had then you would know just how good he actually is. you’re sitting there talking about him like you know exactly how hard he worked to get to where he is and to achieve that win. millions of people - who actually watch the races, by the way - have said how difficult it is to end verstappen’s win streak and lando was the first person to do so this season.” you rant, enraged that she spoke about lando like that.

her mouth opens and closes a few times before she says, almost cockily. “carlos sainz won before lando did, in australia. you act like i don’t know shit about f1.”

“lando’s win means way more than carlos’ because max was still in the race in miami. he had the chance to actually win it, whereas in australia he dnf’d. so do you actually know what you’re talking about? i, along with like a million other people like lando and think he’s going to go very far the rest of the season.” you educate her. she should really know all of this seeing as you always told her every detail about the races on the mondays following.

“bitch.” she has nothing to retaliate with so she chooses to resort to name calling. you don’t even give her a reply and stand up to go outside to get some air. you stand up so quickly you don’t see the feet standing directly behind you or the hard chest you smash into. you could tell it was lando from the scent. was it weird? maybe but you didn’t care much. you’re embarrassed that he probably heard your rant defending him and that you just smashed right into his chest so you step backwards and head to lando’s balcony to sit outside with the smokers.

you rush outside and sit down in the far corner next to the railing. you watch the streets below for a few minutes, trying to forget what you had just done and who you had done it in front of. you feel lando looming over you a few minutes later.

“y’alright?” he asks as he takes a seat next to you. you feel uncomfortable a little, you’ve never been this close to him, even though that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted for the past three years. and he’s being nice to you. lando have never been nice to you. ever. you’d seen him be nice to others, hundreds of times before so you knew what it was like, but you could only have dreamed of being on the receiving end of it.

“yeah.” you reply. you move your head from watching the cars pass on the road to rest your forehead on your tucked up knees.

“thank you for what you did… well said i guess. it was really nice of you.” lando starts, his hand sits awfully close to the edge of your shoe. it’s not touching but if you shuffled your foot a few times towards him, it would be.

“i know i don’t really deserve it. not from you anyways. you’ve always been so sweet to me and i’ve kinda been- well a dick.” you let out a breathy giggle at his choice of words.

“yeah. you have been a dick.” lando grins as you agree with him.

“what if i said i didn’t wanna be a dick to you anymore?” he said, you’re sure you heard a hint of shyness in his voice.

you move you’re head from it’s resting place to look at him in confusion. “you don’t? how do you want to treat me then?” you ask.

lando smiles. “like i should’ve been for the past god knows how long.” you give him your own smile back.

“for the record i like you too.” lando teases, his hand coming to clutch at your thigh. you groan.

“i hate you.” he laughs that laugh.

“no you don’t.” you rest your head on your shoulder and listen to the traffic. lando’s thumb rubs across your skin. his touch is soothing. this is the first nice memory you have with lando.

[aycius]

IT MUST BE L-O-V-E !‧₊˚

feat. satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento & choso kamo!

author’s note. finally back! i’m sorry for being mia for a while i had some things i had to deal with. here’s an older work of mine teehee, i hope you guys enjoy :3

SATORU loves seeing you in his camera roll. videos, photos, .5s, and photos you took when he didn’t have his phone with him. needless to say, it’s only mandatory that he takes photos of you whenever you two are together. especially on dates, where he turns into your personal photographer, and let me tell you—this man is good at the job. you’re trying to take a photo but it’s too dark? that’s fine, he’ll place his phone on his left hand and turn on the flash and keep your phone on his right to take the pics. your storage is low? use his phone to take pics. he’ll send them to you later. it’s a bonus in his eyes because now he has extra photos of you to add in his photo albums. this man literally has a photo album for .5 photos in which it’s raining and you both forgot to bring umbrellas. his phone is all up in your face and your hair is usually drenched and sometimes your mascara is running but satoru claims it’s hilarious to look back on. sometimes when you guys are in the middle of an argument he sends one of those pics to you and says “i miss you” while he’s literally just in the other room. 

SUGURU is on the porch of your house at two am. why? well, while you were trying to use the bathroom half awake, you were greeted with a spider crawling on the bathroom floor. and to be honest, you’d never want to bother toji’s sleep, but the spider was really big and there was only one bathroom in your house. that’s why when you open your door, your boyfriend (who also hates spiders by the way) has a face mask on, latex gloves, and bug spray in his hand. “where is it,” he whispers and it doesn’t even sound like a question, either way, you point into the direction of your bathroom and he firmly nods like he’s off to war, entering your place and letting out a deep sigh while striding into your bathroom. he hesitantly opens the door and peeks head first, scanning the bathroom but not seeing said spider. “it’s gone.” he grumbles while turning off the lights in the bathroom. before he can turn to face you, he notices you gripping onto his shirt hard and can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. “you seriously that scared of a spider?” he snorts.  “maybe… maybe you should just stay the night.” 

NANAMI is the type of boyfriend to take initiative. he’s observant, understanding, and does anything possible to make sure you’re comfortable and feeling okay. that’s why kento is the one who speaks up when the restaurant gets your order wrong. he’s aware that you can speak for yourself, but when he noticed you picking your food with a fork, he knows you’re not going to. and to him, it’s pointless to come to a restaurant without enjoying your meal. so, he waves at a waitress and kindly asks them to bring the correct order. and even though you tell him he really didn’t have to, he smiles at you, “i insisted on us coming to this restaurant, it’s only fair you get your correct order.” while kento thinks that what he did was the bare minimum, you think you just fell harder for him.

CHOSO is literally an angel brought to earth. you swear he’s the biggest gentleman you’ve ever met, and you’re so grateful to have him in your life. this lovely man always makes sure you’re walking on the inner end of the road. it doesn’t even matter if there are sidewalks—choso doesn’t want to take risk. since you guys live closer to the city, you take that as an opportunity to take frequent walks to enjoy the sights. the second you guys step foot on the sidewalk, making small talk and pointing at interesting views, choso will casually switch positions with you, nodding along at whatever you’re rambling about. he’s so smooth with it that sometimes you don’t even notice. “you’re being overdramatic, y’know.” you tell him, laughing at the tight grasp he has on your arm. and he laughs as well because how did his arm get there in the first place? he may worry a lot about you, but it’s only out of love. “i need you to be safe at all times, pretty.” 

[rsatoru]

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

[marvelouslizzie]

You're My Desire - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers' date, but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes' arms.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, first date, public sex, ripped clothing, teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.5K

A/N: We really don't have an excuse for this one. We just wanted 40s Bucky to have a good time, you know? This is basically smut with little bit of plot.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's also a Bucky Barnes writer and her stories are amazing.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it's hate. That's never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Even though you really didn’t want to, you find yourself on a double date with your best friend. She literally begged you to come because she promised she would bring someone for her date’s best friend and apparently she really doesn’t wanna disappoint the handsome soldier.

You're shocked, though, when you arrive at the fair and see Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in the flesh waiting for you two at the gate.

You were pretty sure she brought you here for Bucky Barnes but it turns out your date is actually Steve Rogers, aka Captain America himself.

You don't know what to do at first, awkwardly watching your friend hugging Bucky as if they knew each other for ages. Even though they met just a day ago. Steve extends his hand politely, which you immediately shake.

It doesn’t take long for you to go inside the fun fair together while chatting casually. Your friend, Cassie, starts asking questions about the war. She loves front-line stories, but Bucky doesn’t seem like he enjoys telling them.

Steve, on the other hand, is very excited to do it, answering all of Cassie's questions as you quietly watch them. You wonder why you said yes to this date. You've never been into soldiers and even less into war discussions. But you love your friend very much even when she ignores you.

You find yourself looking at Bucky while Cassie and Steve start to chat and exchange stories. He kinda seems amused by this development. You shrug looking in his direction, waiting for him to say something. After all, you are both already bored and your friends don't even seem to care or notice you anymore in the first place.

Bucky just smiles and then tries to change the subject. You think he actually handles that topic change pretty smoothly and it sticks for a while until Cassie gets bored of talking about books.

You remark Bucky's sad face, but you don't say anything. Instead, you subtly start to walk slower, hoping he'll do the same. As Cassie keeps talking to Steve, Bucky notices you are getting behind and just slows down a little.

"You're okay? Are your legs hurting?" Bucky asks concerned while looking at her shoes.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just got tired of the war stories, that’s all.” You keep walking slowly.

"Me, too." He sighs. "It's a never-ending subject at this point."

“Well, where there's life there's hope.” You quote the Hobbit instinctively. You hold on to the hope, one day you won’t have to talk about this war.

Bucky gasps, looking at you in a way you never experienced before. "What did you say?"

“I just said where there's life there's hope.” You repeat, surprised by the way he probably recognized the quote. People usually have no idea what you are referring to. Not him though.

"You're a fan? Oh god!"

That starts your actual conversation with Bucky Barnes. It turns out he’s a big bookworm himself. He reads as much as he can, always buying more books that he manages to read.

You didn't even realize how close you are until your shoulders slightly brush. You blush when he smiles, clearly not minding. Still, you feel very conscious about your closeness and quickly look toward your friend, feeling guilty that you are enjoying the company of her date, but she doesn’t seem to care one bit. On the contrary, she’s actually holding Steve Rogers’ arm while talking and laughing.

"You're very beautiful." You hear Bucky murmur shily.

His compliment catches you off guard. You were about to apologize on behalf of Cassie. Yet you find yourself blushing.

"And you love reading. I am a lucky man. I get to talk to you."

“I could say the same thing myself, Sergeant. I much rather talk about books instead of the war.”

"Then you got the right company." Bucky smiles and looks around. "Should we get some ice cream?"

“That would be amazing.” And that’s how you end up separated from Cassie and Steve. Bucky informs them about their plan and then leaves without waiting for them.

You spend the next hour talking and walking around the entire fair. James even won a teddy bear for you. Once in a while both of you act like you wanna find Steve and Cassie, but you definitely don’t care.

"I don't remember the last time I felt so comfortable and good with someone."

“I’m glad I’m not boring the shit out of you.” You know it’s not ladylike to speak this way, but you feel comfortable around him. It’s crazy when you consider you just met him maybe two hours ago.

Bucky smiles. "I can say the same. Steve says I'm quite boring."

“He’s quite boring himself.”

"Is he?" He snorts.

“Yeah. Who knew Captain America would be into war stories?”

"Doesn't the name say it?" He continues in the same joking tone.

“The name suggests he’s heroic and boring but he’s more boring and less heroic than expected. Stealing his best friend's date doesn’t scream honorable to me.”

Bucky is shocked to see her indirectly standing up for him. "Maybe I stole his date, though."

“His date was uninterested from the start and just being nice to her best friend.”

"Is she still uninterested?"

“In him? Yes.” You act like you don’t understand what he is actually asking.

"Well, the feelings are mutual. About the date and now…"

“You were uninterested in Cassie?” You say it in a way that shows you don’t believe him.

"Wasn't it obvious?"

“Nope.” It definitely wasn’t when they hugged each other the moment they arrived.

"I was trying to be polite. She insisted on this… meeting because I helped her out. I was relieved I could bring Steve."

“She sounded very interested in you until Captain Rogers started with war stories.”

"She was staring at his… back ever since we arrived."

You burst out laughing and he joins you right after. It sets the tone for the rest of the night and makes you notice you both don’t give a shit.

*

"I want to show you something," you say after a few seconds and quickly drag him after you until you reach a darker alley close to the last attraction. You drop the teddy bear carefully at your feet. "Hi."

“Hi.” He still seems a bit confused, but it’s so cute. He looks at the teddy bear and then his eyes turn back to your face. You can’t help but smile.

"You're so cute. Has anyone told you that?" You smile in return.

He acts like thinking for a second. “No, not really. Just cute?” He fishes for more.

"And smart." You touch his chest shily. "And kind."

“Hmm, those are not what people notice first.” He moves a little bit closer. “You have something…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, his thumb brushes the corner of your lips. You wait for him to wipe off whatever you had on your face before opening your mouth and letting your tongue touch his finger shamelessly.

You watch Bucky’s eyes widen out of surprise. He didn't expect that at all. You grab his hand, bringing his finger inside your mouth, and notice how his breathing quickens. Yet he doesn’t stop you.

You let your tongue play for a few seconds until you let his finger go with a small bite. He lets out the lowest moan but not only do you hear it, but you also love it.

"Wow, I…" He doesn't know what to say, all red and excited.

“You what? Do you feel uncomfortable? Excited? I mean, I can stop if you want.”

In response, brave and happy, Bucky kisses you. His tongue is already on your bottom lip asking for permission, which you grant by opening your mouth without realizing it.

The kiss isn’t shy like you expected, and he definitely knows how to kiss. The way his lips and tongue move makes you want more, right then and there.

Your hands go to his neck as you let yourself enjoy the kiss even more. You keep kissing until you feel breathless. When Bucky breaks it, he doesn’t move away. His forehead touches yours as you try to catch your breath.

"This was…"

“I wanna do something if that’s okay…” You say while suddenly getting on your knees. You are wearing your favorite nylon stockings and you're sure they are gonna get ripped, but you don't care.

Bucky thinks he's daydreaming because how can this happen? How?

"What? What are you doing?"

“I think you know what I am doing, Sergeant. Just tell me to stop if you don’t want it, okay?” Your hands move to his belt but you wait for a reaction first.

"Stop. That's not… you don't have to do this. We are having a great time anyway."

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Is that okay for you?”

He can only nod, totally shocked and excited at the same time.

You unbuckle him slowly. Even though you are in a public place, you're in no hurry. You unzip him while looking into his eyes. When you finally take him out of his pants, he seems speechless. He’s already hard, but as soon as you start to move your hand, he gets rock hard after maybe four pumps.

"Jesus, you're so pretty. You look like a doll on your knees."

You smile proudly. “Tell me what I look like when I do this,” you say before taking him inside your mouth.

He closes his eyes, groaning. Your mouth is so wet and warm. You take it slow at first. Your mouth moves gently while you swirl your tongue around the head.

"Please." You hear him whisper, his left hand resting against the wall behind him.

You move your mouth away from him just to ask “Please what?” Your lipstick is already a little smudged.

"Oh god, keep going. Please, you're such a pretty sight."

“Tell me how I look when you're inside my mouth and I'll continue, promise.” You wink and remind him he still hasn’t fulfilled your request.

"Like a dream. Like a goddess."

“Hmm…” You go back to taking him inside your mouth without making another comment. This time, you move a bit faster than before and start using your hand.

"Your mouth will be the death of me."

That makes you smile but you don’t stop, moving your hand and mouth at the same time, hoping for a good reaction. His hand finds its way to your hair, wrapping it enough to pull a little. That encourages you to go faster, in need for a tighter grip. And you get it: soon, he wraps more of your hair around his whole fist, moaning your name.

“I think I'm gonna…” He sounds so breathy. “You should pull away.”

You look at him, acknowledging his warning, but showing him you are ignoring it. You keep moving fast, making sure your tongue flicks around the right spot every time until he spills inside your mouth. It’s a lot more than you are used to, but you still keep going until he completely empties himself. You take your mouth off, looking into his eyes before swallowing.

"No." He covers his eyes while groaning. "You can't do this to me, doll. Jesus…"

“Do what?” You innocently ask.

He doesn't answer you, taking you by the back of the neck and kissing you sloppily. You don’t get a chance to warn him about the taste and he doesn’t seem to care one bit. He groans into your mouth when he feels your hands on his ass and breaks the kiss just to suck on your neck.

Then you feel his hands between your bodies, trying to pull up his pants again.

You break the kiss to ask: “What are you doing?”

"I'm putting on my pants," he sounds like a kid. "And I wanna get on my knees for you, too."

“Maybe I want something else that doesn’t require you to put your pants on.”

He nods, without understanding what you mean. "Alright. I'll just-" He drops his right hand until it reaches her skirt. "Is it okay?" You nod with a smile. Even though it’s not what you meant, it’s fine.

His fingers immediately go to your underwear and push it aside.

"Fuck me. Look at that." You are really wet and his curses don't help either. "Soaked. Is that for me, doll?"

“No, it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me.” You joke.

You feel his fingers stopping on your slit as he lifts his head. "What did you say?"

“I said it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me. You know that gets the girls wet.” You hope he won’t be offended by this. It’s just a silly joke.

In response, Bucky pushes a finger inside you quickly, his lips curling into a smirk. "Should I start talking about war, too? Bet that would get you even wetter."

You let out a deep breath, relieved. Thank God he isn’t offended. “That would get me dry as a desert, Sergeant Barnes.”

"Should I dye my hair then?" He snorts, moving his finger faster.

“Maybe you should get a shield. It would definitely look better on you.”

"A shield, huh?" Bucky adds another finger, trying to scissor them inside you a couple of times. "Is it too much?"

“Nope,” you say after a moan. “It’s not enough.”

"Fuck, you…" he closes his eyes. "You want another?"

“I want something else.” You smile, hoping him to understand this time.

"Yeah? Like what?"

You grab his cock and gently rub it without saying a word. You are not surprised he’s hard because his erection has been pressed on your leg for a while.

"Fuck. You want my cock, baby?"

“Yeah. Why do you think I didn’t let you pull your pants back up?”

"I don't-" He moans. "I didn't think."

“Come on. You are making me wait while I’m soaking your fingers.”

"Wanna make you…" Bucky interrupts himself by adding a third finger, his other hand going to your clit. "Happy."

“Fuck.” You throw your head back, that felt so good.

"You like this?" He rubs a little more, paying attention to your body. His fingers inside you keep the same pace, though. He isn't slowing down now even if it's the end of the world.

“Yeah, that.” You breathe out. You already feel your legs shaking and you're afraid your knees might give out, but it feels so good, you can’t seem to focus on the concerns.

"Hold on to me."

You put your hands on his shoulders and it helps you relax a bit more. After that, your orgasm comes crashing in like a big wave that leaves you breathless. He doesn't stop moving his fingers until you finish coming, then he slowly pulls them out, making sure to lick them before kissing you.

“You are such a dirty soldier, Sergeant Barnes,” you say with a smile.

"What is dirty about this?" He shrugs. "I'm a good soldier, of course."

“Doing this in a dark alley with me and licking your fingers clean like that. Very good soldier, indeed.”

"Ihm." He buries his head right onto your shoulder and breathes in. "Thank you."

“For what?” You find yourself kissing his hair while asking the question.

"For this evening and this. Thank you for trusting me."

“You are something else, Bucky,” you say while caressing his hair.

"Hmm?"

You kiss his hair and his ear, then move your lips to his neck. “You can thank me later. We are not done yet.”

"Changed your mind?" He smiles. "Want me on my knees after all?

“Maybe later.” You wink. “Now don’t act like you don’t know what I want because I know you want it, too.”

He freezes. "Wait, you're serious?"

“Of course I am serious. Just don’t finish inside, okay?”

He looks at you again all serious. "Are you sure? We don't have to, I can use my tongue."

“Don’t worry, it’s not my first time and yeah, I’m sure unless you don’t want to.”

Bucky looks at you with puppy eyes. "Uhm, it's my first time."

“Oh god.” Your eyes widen. “I… didn’t consider… that possibility. I’m sorry.”

Bucky starts laughing at your worried expression and kisses your cheek. "My first time with a bookworm doll."

You punch his shoulder. “You worried me!”

That makes him laugh even harder, and you can't help but smile. Because he's extra beautiful like this.

"Why? Do you have something against innocent boys, ma'am? Shame!"

“No, nothing against it. Absolutely would love to teach and corrupt but wouldn’t want that to be your first time.”

"You don't want to take advantage of me, huh? Such a good girl." He surprises you by suddenly lifting you and helping you wrap your legs around his torso.

“Would you like me to take advantage of you?” You kiss his jaw and cheeks.

"Fuck, yes. Yes."

“Then you have my permission to take advantage of me, too.”

He doesn't ask you again if you're sure. Instead, he lifts his right hand to your blouse and starts unbuttoning it as fast as he can. He's so impatient he even manages to rip a button. You just watch him work and smile, hoping the gentleman side of Bucky finally stops holding him back.

He groans at the sight of your hard nipples and quickly leans in to take one in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper while he uses his tongue to play with your nipple. It feels so good you don't even notice when his hand drops under your skirt. Until you hear the ripping sound.

“What the fuck?” You can’t believe he's just ripped your nylon stockings. They are so hard to find and so expensive!

"Whha?" He doesn't even take his mouth off your nipple as he speaks.

“Do you know how expensive those stockings are?” Your surprise is so clear in your voice. “You owe me a pair of nylon stockings, Sargeant.”

"They were in the way, baby."

“Getting impatient?” You mock a little.

He pushes his hips a little more. "Can't you feel?"

“You still owe me a pair.”

"What about these?" His hands are now on her panties. "How many do I need to buy you so I can rip these off?"

“Just one pair, but if you wanna rip that one, too, this cycle might never end.”

He sighs, contemplating, but he finally decides not to, only pushing your underwear aside. "How do you want it?"

“What do you mean?”

Bucky takes another step until your back barely brushes against the wall. "How do you like this? The sex."

“Don’t try to act all kind and push aside what you actually want to do. That’s how I want it.”

"Do you uhm… like it fast or slow? The pace I mean." He's slowly pushing inside you while he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“That’s exactly what I meant. Do it however you want and we will see how I like it. Don’t be too gentle like this.”

"Talk to me, okay?" He's halfway inside you now, staying still for a few seconds as he leaves small kisses on your neck.

“Oh, I will, don’t worry, handsome. No one can stop me from complaining if I don’t like something.”

"Good girl." He tries different types of thrusts and angles at first, wanting to see what you respond to the most.

“Fuck. Why do you keep saying that?” She moves her hips to make him thrust faster.

"Because you're my good girl. Dirty too." He moans when he feels you. "God, you want it faster, baby?"

“Yes, yes, I do. Please. Move faster.”

And he does, his grip on your ass tightening as he starts thrusting just the way you want. "Fuck, you're soaked. You feel so good around me."

“You feel good, too.” You moan in between words. “And you are strong. Really strong,” you remark because he doesn’t look tired while holding you.

But he doesn't seem to acknowledge that. "I'm so fucking lucky, Jesus." He groans when he feels your lips sucking on his collarbone.

“You didn’t think your double date would end this way, huh?”

"Deep inside you? Not a chance." He smiles, speeding up.

“Maybe deep inside someone else.” You tease on purpose.

Bucky immediately stops thrusting. "What?"

“I was just joking about how we were meant to be on a date with other people.” You hate that you can’t shut your mouth sometimes.

"Oh," he nods, restarting to move. "Well, I can assure you, he wouldn't have done this tonight." He jokes back.

“Fuck me against the wall like this?”

"Fuck you at all. But especially like this. And the language?" He laughs. "Never."

“Oh, so honorable of him.” You keep joking. “Poor Cassie.”

His right-hand flies behind your head to protect it as his thrusts become way too quick. "Fuck. You feel like heaven, I swear."

“God, how do you do that?” You are surprised that he can carry you with one hand. “Are you sure you aren’t a super soldier yourself?”

Bucky shakes his head amused. "That will go straight to my ego."

“You're carrying me with one hand while protecting my head with the other, and you keep fucking me at the same time. I think it should go straight to your ego.”

He groans. "Lower one of your hands now."

“Lower it where exactly?” You don’t understand what he wants.

His hand moves from the back of her head for a few seconds just to bring her fingers to her clitoris. "Right here. Can you rub this for me?"

“Ohh.” You finally understand what he’s trying to do, so you listen and start rubbing yourself while his hand goes back to your head.

"Good, good girl. Look at you." He doesn't even realize how deep his thrusts are because his focus is on your fingers.

“Oh god… It feels so good.” You have never done something like this before. No public sex, no touching yourself during sex, no good girl whispers next to your ear. They all make you feel dizzy.

"Yeah? Just good?" His mouth finds your breasts this time, and you just know he's leaving a few marks there by the way he sucks on your skin.

“You wanna hear how good it makes me feel?”

"Ihmm."

“Oh, you are even dirtier than you are showing, aren’t you, Sergeant Barnes?”

He looks up immediately. "Say that again." He demands.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

"Fuck, you need to rub faster."

“You need to fuck me harder.” You say while listening to his order.

"Harder?" He repeats, shocked, not expecting that in the slightest. But he does as you demand in a heartbeat, biting his tongue because it feels so good.

You have a hard time holding back your reaction because it feels just perfect. You can feel your orgasm approaching.

“Shit, you need to cover my mouth,” you say as quickly as possible.

"Just use me. Bite my shoulder," he suggests quickly, keeping the pace exactly the same.

You wanna say no, because you don’t wanna hurt him but there’s no other choice left. You sink your teeth in somewhere between his neck and shoulder and try to muffle yourself. The orgasm hits you so hard that you are afraid someone is gonna hear you even like this.

"Fuck," he groans, the pain feeling amazing as you keep coming, your legs wrapping even more tightly around his ass.

“Please, don’t stop,” you manage to say and go back to biting him, very aware of the hickey you are giving him, but that doesn’t stop you because you don’t want to get caught like this.

"Can't stop." At this point you wonder how no one noticed you by now. The sound of your skin touching and your groans are not quite silent. But even if they did, you know you wouldn't stop. How could you?

"Keep rubbing, I want you to find pleasure again."

“Again?” You sound shocked because you've literally just come.

"Again." He tries to lift one of your legs a little more. "Please."

“I don’t think I can, but keep going, okay?” You already came twice in a short amount of time. How much more can you do?

"Well, I think you can." He smiles. "Gonna mark me up, baby?"

“I think I already did.” You can see your teeth marks on his neck. You are sure it will turn into purple really soon.

"I'm your property now?" The hand he has on the back of your head quickly grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist.

“Are you?” You like the sound of that and how he’s pulling your hair.

"I am." He's frantically thrusting in and out of you. "Rub faster."

“Fuck,” you mumble while rubbing yourself. You aren’t sure if it’s gonna do anything, but it feels good. “Can I keep you then? You know, kidnap you and hide you in my apartment so you don’t have to go back to the war. We can just do this every day.”

"Fuck, do it." He smiles. "I dare you."

“Should I tie you up so it looks more realistic?” And suddenly all that rubbing starts to feel different, more pleasurable.

"On your bed? Go ahead."

You laugh at how easily he’s convinced, but your laugh is interrupted by a moan.

"Gonna come for me, dolly?"

“I am not sure.” You struggle to speak. “It feels like it.”

He pulls your hair hard. "Please, please."

“You beg so beautifully, how can I say no?” It’s not like your body is saying no, either.

When you finish coming again, you watch with your eyes semi-closed as James takes himself out without dropping you even a little and comes right on your thighs and ripped stockings. You feel the warmth of his come while you both are trying to catch your breath.

"This was… wow."

“This is a hell of a first date.” You find yourself giggling. Did all that really happen? The soreness between your legs says yes.

Bucky slowly puts you down. "You think?" He snorts.

“Oh yeah, very memorable.” You notice that your stockings are completely ruined so you have no other choice but to take them off.

"Fuck, you're dripping." He doesn't look like he's sorry and he can't say he is, either. He's actually very proud.

“Yeah, I am aware.” You laugh while taking them off and using them like a washcloth to clean yourself up.

"You have no idea how lovely the sight is." He winks at you while zipping up his pants.

You bite your bottom lip while looking at him. “Likewise. You look satisfied, Sargeant. Did something happen while you were gone?” You pull your skirt down.

"I got touched by an angel."

You laugh. “So cheesy. You are lucky that you are a bookworm. A really good-looking one, who is also good at bed even though we didn’t even need one.”

"Next time. Maybe we'll break it." He sounds so confident, but not demanding at all at the same time.

“When are you going back?” You find yourself asking. If he’s promising you a second time, you are gonna take it.

"In one week."

You make a sad face without realizing then take a deep breath to help yourself focus on the positive side. “That’s a lot of sex.”

He immediately lifts your chin and presses a kiss on your forehead. "I was joking. We got two months."

“You are such a liar.” You punch him in his shoulder.

Which only makes him laugh. "You like it hard."

But your attention is on his neck, on the spot you bit so hard. The purple spot looks really old and mostly faded already.

"No comment?" He snorts. "We're gonna have a lot of fun for sure."

“I have a question.” Your eyes are still on that same spot. “Does Steve heal quickly?”

"Why? You plan on kicking his ass?"

“Just answer the question, please.”

"Yeah, he does." Bucky shrugs. "One of the perks of the serum."

“Even the small scars or purple spots?”

"Yes." Bucky doesn't even think about it. "Which is great. Why? You think your friend will want to know?"

You don’t comment about his question, instead, touch the spot you bit down so hard. “You are nearly completely healed. My mark has vanished.”

"What?" He asks, confused.

“I bit down on your neck so hard, it was dark red. Now it’s gone.”

"I don't get purple easily. Never did. I guess you have to suck a little more." He smiles leaning in to kiss you again.

“I fully bit you,” you say before he does.

"I noticed." He giggled.

Since he doesn’t take it that seriously you let it go. “Fine. I will prove it to you later.”

"Prove what?" He gives you another kiss.

“That you heal quickly.” You try to fix yourself while you kiss him back.

"Oh, I feel healed every time I look at you."

“You are so cheesy.” Yet you can’t help but laugh. “How do I look?”

"Good boy version or?" He pauses dramatically.

“Both.”

"Good boy version first: you look like an angel." He smiles cheekily.

You snort. “I’m asking if I look decent, Bucky.”

"Angel,” he repeats before dropping his hands to your ass and squeezing. "They won't know you've got fucked against the wall if that's what you're afraid of. But you look strangely content and happy."

“That’s because I had a good date.” You scrunch your nose cheekily.

"Me too. The best date ever."

“Should we try to find our best friends?”

"Oh, sure." Bucky leans in to get the teddy bear before handing it to you.

"Ready for more war stories?"

“No, I’m not.” You hug the bear. “I gotta wash this.”

Bucky snorts. "Poor bear. Got traumatized."

“Traumatized and all dirty.” You don’t notice how close you are to Bucky until you feel him next to you. “Should we keep this a secret from our friends?”

"Do you want to?"

“I meant the having sex in a dark alley part. I don’t think my friend needs to know that.” She definitely shouldn’t know all this.

"We should totally keep that part to ourselves." He smiles.

“I could say that you kissed me or something. I don’t know. Is that too forward for the first date?”

"There's no such thing. You can say I kissed you."

“I was genuinely asking.” You smile. “I normally don’t even kiss on the first date.”

Bucky giggles, his hand squeezing your hip. "I am a lucky gal." You smile back at him until you notice a familiar face.

“Oh, is that Steve?” You point to the tall blonde guy.

"Yes, that's him. But where is your friend?"

“Right in front of him. I can see her dress.” It’s sticking on the side.

"Oh, yes. Gonna drive you home after that if that's alright with you." He sounds so casual like he already did that many times, but you notice something else.

“You have a car and you didn’t think of using it until now?”

"Oh." Redness takes over his cheeks. "I got… distracted."

"You are such an idiot." You start to giggle while walking toward your friends.

"Your idiot now. You got stuck with me for at least two months." He laughs.

"Just for two months?" You test his intentions.

"I can't assume you'd want to wait for me, can I?"

"I will tell your best friend to bring you back home in one piece. He's the hero after all. That should be easy, right?"

Bucky looks at her with a soft expression before kissing her hair. "Guess you really got stuck with me."

"Oh shit, Steve saw you kissing my hair." It’s going to be hard to keep this thing between you two.

"Does it bother you?"

“No, no, no.” You quickly try to explain. “It’s just I’m worried that they might think the worst of me. I mean… questioning our closeness.”

"I dare them." She is surprised by how serious and determined he is as he speaks.

“I would kiss you right now if I could.”

"I won't stop you." He giggles like a kid.

“Our friends are,” you whisper and look at your best friend, who is coming toward you. Cassie is holding Steve’s arm proudly.

"Oh, hello," Steve says. "Where have you been?"

"Here and there." Bucky shrugs. "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!" Cass immediately giggles, joining the conversation. "He has the best, best stories. What about-" She cuts herself off when she notices your appearance. "What happened to your stockings?"

“Oh.” You blush a little, thinking about how they got ruined. “I tripped and ruined them. They looked so horrible I had to take them off completely.”

"Yes, they got really dirty," Bucky confirms with the biggest grin Steve has seen in ages.

"Oh, really?" He lifts his eyebrow. "What a shame."

“Yeah. Sergeant Barnes promised me a new pair. What a gentleman he is.”

"A gentleman indeed." Steve shakes his head, well aware of what you two have done.

You bite your lip and give Bucky a look, hoping at least Cassie has no idea. You are sure the three of you can keep a secret. For now…

You may wanna read the next part: Trust In What Tomorrow Brings

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Feelings and Faults (Wolverine)

Description: Logan loves Y/N but she’s too caught up on the past.

Word Count: 1,020

Requests: Hi I was just wondering if you could write wolverine x reader smut where he is in love/obsessed with her and she has feelings for him but doesn’t acknowledge it because she doesn’t think she deserves to be loved which could be down to past trauma (it’s up to you) but then they confess their feelings inspired by the scene in the Honda Odyssey just without deadpool please it’s okay if not

Author’s note: I didn’t see the smut part until I went to post so that’s not part of the story. But I hope you like it!

She sat in the Honda Odyssey with a drink in her hand. She never really was one for drinking but times like these it was needed. Everyone was either inside planning the attack on Nova or by the fire drinking. She was in the car, alone in thought. Not realizing that she had someone that could never look away from her.

Someone that loved her and wanted to be with her even though she had fault in that. After losing Erik she never felt like she could be loved again or deserved it. But Logan adored her and wanted her forever. In his universe Y/N and Magneto were the happy couple that he let get killed. He always adored her but could never have her.

Now, she didn’t have Magneto in her life anymore and he wanted to be the one to fill the void. He could tell that she beat herself up over it and the blame was on her. Whatever happened between them, he would never believe that she was fully the one to blame. She deserved love and happiness, even if she couldn’t see it.

After his talk with Laura he walked over to the car that he knew she was in and got in the driver side. She looked over at him and saw a bottle of whiskey in his hand and smirked. He was definitely one for drinking. But she couldn’t blame him. “How did I know that you were in here?” He asked and she shrugged. “Despite what Wade says, I think the Honda Odyssey fucks hard.” She said and that made him chuckle.

Wade hated this car but Y/N liked it. “I also didn’t take you for drinking.” She smiled at him and held up the drink, “Cheers to that. I never was a drinker but after things go south it’s nice to have one.” He watched as she chugged the rest of her drink and held out her cup to fill it up. He gladly poured her another glass. “So about the fight earlier-” “Don’t mention it. He’s fine.” “I’m talking about you. Us.” She looked over at him, “What’s there to talk about? You’re right. I beat myself up over a guy that probably never gave a shit about me.” He felt guilt for saying that to her. “In my universe, you guys were married. Had kids even. You two were in love.” She rolled her eyes, “And let me guess we died?” He nodded and cleared his throat, “Yeah. It was awful. I constantly think back to that night and it haunts me.” “It was probably meant to be.” He looked at her, “What do you mean?” “I’m not meant to be happy in any universe.” He wanted to roll his eyes at her and her stupidity but he kept going, “No. That’s me. You sit here and act like nobody loves you and you’re alone but that is fair from the truth.” She looked at him as he finished off the bottle.

“Y/N, In my universe I was in love with you. I wanted you so bad but Erik beat me to it.” Her eyes widened in shock. His words repeating in her head. “The first second I met you I felt it all come back. Only this time Erik isn’t in the way. It’s you.” She chugged her drink before she could get out the words, “What?” It wasn’t a question of her asking him to repeat what he said or that she couldn’t hear him. She simply could not believe the words that left his mouth.

“Don’t act like nobody loves you and doesn’t care about you. I do! And I always will.” She stared at him with wide eyes. Sure, she had some feelings for him but she beat herself up after what happened with Erik. “You’re drunk.” She stated and he laughed. “Unbelievable. I pour my heart out to you and you tell me I’m drunk?” She didn’t know what to say to him at this time. “Y/N, Erik was a fucking idiot for not loving you and trying with you. You’re amazing and beautiful and only a dumb fuck like him wouldn’t see that.” Her eyes filled with tears, “You can’t mean that.” She whispers and he sighs, “Well I do. And if Wade wasn’t there earlier than maybe this would have come out sooner.” She turned away from him and sighed.

This couldn’t be real. There was no way he was telling the truth. Was he? She looked up at the top of the car, “The Magneto that Cassandra killed, that was mine.” He turned to look at her, “The TVA had got him before I could save him. I feel like the biggest fuck up about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me or wanted to be with me. It was never known but we had something special.

That’s why I was so nervous about coming here. I was so scared that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me and hated me but he’s dead. That’s worse than him hating me.” She was pouring her heart out to him. “I want to believe you, Logan. But I don’t know. After seeing you and you helping us I realized that maybe Erik wasn’t the one for me and that I could have another chance at happiness.”

“You can. I’m right here.” She turned to look at him to find that he was already looking at her. Maybe it was the heat of the moment but she really wanted to kiss him. As if he was Charles Xavier and could read her mind, he leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back and maybe it was the drink or the kiss but she felt herself calm down and realize that this was meant to be. “Erik wasn’t your fault sweetheart. You are not at fault for that. You deserve love and all the happy things in love.” She felt herself smile at his words. “Thank you, Logan.” she whispered and he smiled. “No problem, sweetheart.” He said before they locked lips again.

[rinhaler]

NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k

What a naïve little thing you are.

That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.

But that suits him just fine.

He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.

But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.

You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?

He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.

“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.

But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.

He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.

People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.

You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.

“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.

“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.

Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.

“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.

You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.

And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.

Do you know how vulnerable you’re being?

You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act, do you?

“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.

He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.

He's more than happy to show you.

You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.

“T-Thank you…” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.

“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.

You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.

He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.

You dumb little thing.

Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.

You just aren’t thinking straight.

And why would you?

You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?

These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.

So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.

He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.

He’s laughing too.

But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.

“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.

“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”

“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.

God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.

“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.

“No.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.

“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.

“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.

Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.

“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.

You weren’t.

And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.

“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?

“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”

“T-Tax—”

“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.

He’ll make sure of that.

As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.

You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.

All you can think about is how tired you are.

Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.

But you’re lucky, really.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.

He prefers girls like this anyway.

Nice ‘n pliant.

“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.

“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.

He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.

His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.

Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.

You’ll know what happened to you.

You might even remember who did it.

But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.

And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.

But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.

He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.

“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”

His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.

He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.

Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.

You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.

He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.

And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.

You won’t have to worry about that with him.

Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.

Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.

The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.

Your lifeless body surprises him once more.

He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.

His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.

He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.

And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.

“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.

He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.

You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.

And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.

He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.

His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.

He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.

Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.

With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.

“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.

He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.

But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.

He’s far from done with you yet.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[enluv]

bewitched

pairing: anton x mentioned gn reader! (pls lmk if there are any gendered terms I may have missed)

synopsis: in which anton has a not so tiny actually really big crush on reader.

genre: fluff that made me smile to myself so hard that I had to remind myself this was just a fic, idol!anton & idol!reader, angst if you squint, pouty anton & his hyungs love to tease him for it!

coco’s <3 note: this was something I wrote up after a really long day of studying for finals last week so if you hate it lie to me (I’m sensitive) and it’s completely self indulgent 😭 + not edited well…

small but important a/n: I am so happy people love this fic as much as I do but I unfortunately will not be making a part two for it! originally I didn’t plan one and still in my heart feel like it doesn’t really need one!! sorry my loves, ty for the understanding 🤍

anton who smiles to himself as he watches you do his groups dance challenge, he’s seen you backstage countless times now with your group and he swears you’re his soulmate.

loud and energetic, your personality compliments his usually timid and introverted one.

the first one to notice is seunghan, always the one with the keenest eye, he teases anton throughly when you walk past them in the music show halls, pushing his shoulders and tugging at the boys pink cheeks.

the next two to notice are wonbin and shotaro, having caught their youngest replaying your groups music video just after briefly being introduced to you, he claims it’s so he can learn your dance challenge but the boys can tell from the way his voice raises an octave, that he’s lying.

eunseok and sungchan take note as they watch his eyes sparkle up at the screen in their room backstage, there’s no hiding the proud smile he wears as he watches you move about on stage smiling and enjoying the time you have with fans, they can see just how much he admires you.

sohee is the last to know as he walks right up to you, laughing and joking like old friends do, anton goes through the five stages of grief so quickly the rest of the members laugh loudly at him.

first, he denies what’s taking place in front of his eyes, he can’t fathom how you know his friend, or why you two seem so close.

second, he’s angry. not at sohee or you, never you of course, but at himself for not seeing the obvious signs. you’d done their dance because you knew his friend, not just because you were interested in him them.

third, anton tries rationalizing with himself. this was okay, it’d be okay, and if you ended up with sohee it would be fine because technically he’d never admitted to liking you, and so technically you weren’t anyone to him, so really if he thought about it, he’d be fine, especially if you made his best friend happy.

fourth, he’s pouting, and not even on purpose in a cute way, he’s full on pouting at the scene taking place in front of him. he’s sad you’re so close to sohee, sad he isn’t the one making you laugh loudly or putting a smile on your face, sad that he has absolutely no chance with you at all. this isn’t fair, but he can’t do anything so he resorts to pouting and clinging onto his older brothers for comfort (as they laugh and tease his current state).

finally, anton thinks he’s over it. he’s been watching you and sohee giggle about back and forth for what seems like hours now (it’s been less than five minutes) and he thinks he can finally accept this reality. you’re into his friend and he’s chopped liver. yeah that’s totally fine, he’s totally okay with this outcome.

the older boys smile at one another as they watch anton bury his head deeper into eunseoks broad shoulders, seemingly shielding himself from the scene in front of him. they know when their maknae is upset and it’s a million times clear just how much he is right now.

“anton, are you okay? I want to introduce you to my friend.” sohee’s soft voice pulls him out of his depression, slowly rising his head he’s met with a pair of eyes he knows too well, and his ears turn red.

“this is my roommate, he’s the one I told you about, the one that’s a big fan of you,” his friend laughs after his words and anton isn’t sure what’s worse: you being madly in love with sohee or you knowing he’s madly in love with you.

“anton right? I’m also a big fan of you, if that’s not totally embarrassing to admit to you.”

and just like that he’s swooning again, all the thoughts and feelings from before melt away as he pushes past eunseok to stand in front of you. now this, this is just perfect.

sohee shoots him a smile and a thumbs up, and it all clicks, anton is almost ashamed of how he’s acted.

sohee knew about his crush, how could he not? they shared a room together, of course he’d caught him watching your content, laughing at things you’d said, and bashfully liking your pictures from his spam account, he’d done this on purpose, he’d introduce you to one another on purpose.

“do you want to maybe grab some lunch with me?”

so maybe that wasn’t what he’d planned to say to you first but at least he’d spoken…right? even if it was straightforward and not like him at all.

your laugh makes his ears even redder, and he’s instantly smiling as you nod, taking his hand and leading him to “a really good cafe” as you put it. anton isn’t listening fully, he’s just happy he can finally admire you in person.

yeah he’s definitely too far gone. he thinks he might be in love.

coco’s <3 note x2: I love love love writing for riize they’re honestly my favorite boys ahhh I love them!! hopefully now that I am on break I can write more for them :) thinking of opening requests for them too maybe? and like if you know me you know I don’t do that often so !!! hope you enjoyed this fic, feedback & reblogs are always appreciated <3

riize taglist — @palajae @txtlyn @rllymark @soheekisser @luvbinnies (can’t tag those in bold 😕)

Want to join the taglist? Find the forms here!

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 15] Keep Megumi Away From Scissors!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

When Toji is back home, you make it your mission that he is as comfortable as he can possibly be. When you’re off work, you spend every single minute with him at his apartment to fulfill his every need; this means that you’re also taking care of Megumi while Toji fully recovers. He has a complete week off from work, and he gets to be lazy.

Toji likes to be lazy but he feels like he’s useless, and he doesn’t like feeling useless. So occasionally you have to order him to lay down and stop doing whatever he’s doing– Toji hates being told what to do but he has no option but to listen to you. If he doesn’t, he gets in trouble with you and he doesn’t want to get in trouble with you.

It’s fair to say that your relationship is building back up, even when you have many unresolved issues that you have to talk about. Bringing it up isn’t the best while he’s recovering, but you do know that you have to talk about it before proceeding with a relationship. You’re not focusing on his second job, or his job for that matter. You just want him to recover.

“Megumi, don’t bother your father while he’s eating.” You tell the child that keeps poking the man that tries to eat his soup. Megumi pouts before he stops, and he drags his feet to play with his toys. You have a smile on your face, sitting across from Toji. You stare at him, and when you realize how weird it is that you’re simply staring while he eats, you attempt to look away.

“You know I’m fine now.” He assures you, and you raise your brows. 

“Is that your way of kicking me out?” You ask, and his eyes widen. He shakes his head because he definitely doesn’t want you out, but he also doesn’t want you to overwork yourself with him. You chuckle at his reaction, “It sounded like it.”

“I just don’t want you to worry so much.” He responds, and you find yourself smiling at him. You stare at each other for a moment, admiring each other’s presence until your eyes glance at Megumi who holds a pair of scissors in his hands. Your eyes widen watching in slow motion as he cuts a big chunk of his hair.

“Hey! Megumi!” You raise your voice at him, and he freezes in his spot. He’s been caught. There’s nothing he can do to escape this situation. “Put the pair of scissors down!”

He does put them down, but in the end he crosses his arms and pouts. You don’t care, and you continue to watch until he plays with something safe. You then look at Toji, a sigh escaping your lips, “Looks like he needs a haircut.”

“Didn’t he just give himself one?” Toji jokes, and you roll your eyes before a chuckle leaves your lips. Toji then gives his attention to Megumi, looking at the pouty child and feeling a tug in his heartstrings. He doesn’t like to admit how big of a sucker he is for his son, he’d do just about anything for the child. “Come here, stinky, let me see the damage.”

Megumi walks over and Toji inspects the scalp, holding back a big laugh as he sees the damage. He then ruffles Megumi’s hair and comments, “Seems like you’re getting a buzzcut.”

“A what?” Megumi asks and Toji motions an electric razor, running it through his hair. It scares Megumi and he runs your way so you can protect him, hugging you which causes you to hug him back. “Daddy wants to cut my hair.”

“Didn’t you already do that, Gumigumi?” You try your best to suppress your laughter, especially when you look at Toji. He tries to eat the remainders of his soup without laughing at his son. “I’ll take you to the barbershop tomorrow, and we’re gonna get you a decent haircut. Okay?”

“Okay.” He responds. He pulls away from the hug and you kiss his cheek, and in return, he does the same to you. He walks back to his toys, and you turn your attention back to Toji.

“You wanna sleep over?” He asks, and while you’re tempted to accept, the place around you is very cramped. Even though you’ve been spending every free minute of your day here, you find that the area doesn’t have extra space for you.

“Is there enough space for me?” You reply, and Toji looks around the small living space. He purses his lips together, while he thinks about it, before he lands on the decision of,

“We can just kick Megumi and his toys to the curb.” Toji jokes, causing Megumi to yell,

“Hey! Leave my toys alone.” It causes Toji’s brows to raise.

“So we can kick you out then?” Toji asks, and of course Megumi doesn’t realize it’s a joke. So he crosses his arms again, sitting down before he begins to cry. You stand up and walk over to him, hugging him and assuring him,

“Your daddy would never do that. It’s a joke, baby.” You hear Toji laugh, and you have to roll your eyes as you comfort Megumi. Toji seems to tease Megumi a lot more lately, and you assume it’s his way of showing affection to his son but the four-year-old obviously isn’t going to pick up on it. You wonder if Toji has always been like this with the child, or if it’s just something that he’s been doing lately because you’re here to mend things.

Once Megumi calms down, you grab your phone and look at the time. It causes you to hug Megumi before standing up, “I should get going now. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“It’s the weekend.” Toji reminds you, standing up from his seat as well. He’s following you as you walk towards the door. 

“I still have to do a lot around my house, so it’s best for me to wake up early. Plus I have to get Megumi to a barbershop.” You tell him, and you almost feel like you’re the kid’s mother. You certainly love him as if he were your son.

“That should be my duty.” Toji tells you while you open the door. You raise your brow at him.

“You’re going to shave his head off, I can’t trust you.” You comment, and he ends up laughing in response. He’s also viewing you as a parental figure for his son, after all, you’re the only other person that Megumi can rely on.

“You’re right.” He responds. You’re about to walk away, but you can’t leave without kissing Toji’s cheek. He’s blushing as you walk away, a foolish smile on his lips.

When he shuts the door and turns around, Megumi has the scissors in his hands again. Toji sighs, rolling his eyes, “Put them down.”

Toji joins you the next day to give Megumi a haircut. His hair is pretty short, but it isn’t a buzzcut so the child is happy with it. Toji says that his hair grows pretty fast so it’ll be back to normal in no time. Megumi still cries during his haircut, and Toji promises that they’ll go to the park after, even if it’s so cold out.

“Hopefully he’ll tire out soon.” You comment, sitting on a bench as you watch Megumi play around. The sun hits you directly and it warms you up, but you’re still cold.

“You can go back home, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick around for him.” Toji responds, making you roll your eyes. You hate every time he says that because you’re obviously going to stick around. “But if you’re sticking around, I can warm you up.”

“How?” You ask, and Toji engulfs you in a hug. You find yourself smiling, giving into his hug. “This is nice.”

“Yeah…” He responds. Toji keeps watch on Megumi, but it gets boring watching the same child go up the slide and down over and over again. “Do you… Want to go on a date?”

You look up at him, a smile on your lips. You’ve been dying to go on a date with him but of course you weren’t going to be the first to ask him out after everything… Your feelings for him were fading away but they came rushing back the moment you got a call from the hospital.

“I would love to.” You answer. He’s tempted to peck your lips, but he’s scared that it’s too sudden considering he just asked you out on a date. You’ve definitely done much more than just kissing, so he has no idea why he’s shy of a kiss. “But… We do have to discuss a lot of stuff and talk about everything before starting an actual relationship.”

“You’re right. We do.” He agrees. But he’s still happy. Happy that he’s going on a date with you, that you’re with him, that he’s hugging you and keeping you warm. Toji has the same feelings for you. “Not right now though, right?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” You say. The moment is too nice to ruin with something that could possibly ruin your day. Plus it’s nice to hear–

“Excuse me?! Is this your son?!” A woman asks which makes you both look her way. You look at her livid face, and you wonder what’s going on. 

“Yes.” You both answer, for you it’s a force of habit at the daycare. You look down, her hand wrapped around Megumi’s wrist. One hand holds a pair of scissors while the other holds a chunk of long black hair, that’s obviously not his own. He’s guilty as charged.

“Megumi…” You begin, a sigh leaving your lips as you shake your head. You wonder how the hell he even managed to get those scissors. Toji is trying his best not to burst into a fit of laughter, trying to put on the angry dad look. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah… We’re really sor–” Toji can’t even get the word out. He doesn’t finish his sentence, standing up and taking Megumi from the lady’s grasp. “He’s just jealous because he doesn’t have that much hair anymore. Let’s go. We’re going home.”

“But I want to–” You hear Megumi. You stand up and begin to walk with Toji, who drags his son away. You mutter one last apology to the woman before focusing on Megumi and Toji.

“Maybe he can open up a barbershop one day.” You comment, trying to drown out the cries of Megumi who keeps begging to go back to the playground.

“One day, not today.” Toji responds, still trying his best to not laugh at everything. He doesn’t want to encourage Megumi’s naughty behavior.

“Yeah… For now we have to make sure to keep him away from scissors.”

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, very slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

Days pass by, Blade didn’t come back to the Stellaron Hunters HQ to watch over you. Silverwolf keeps messaging him, telling him he needs to come back for another mission but he’s stubborn.

Silverwolf: Come back here, we’re having a meeting

Silverwolf: oh come on I know you’re seeing this

Silverwolf: Istfg

[seen by Bladie]

His phone shuts off and he just stares outside your window, he knows you’re not getting better anytime soon. He sometimes feels a twisted, aching feeling in his chest when you give him that feeble smile to pretend you're okay, when you both know no amount of medicine will save you, you could no longer hold a glass for more than a minute because your muscles fail you.

He feels sick.

This misery of his never going away.

“I have to go.”

He expected that you’d call out for him, “Okay, take care.”

So he leaves, he wishes he never looked back.

He was gone for 3 weeks, on another mission to exterminate more and more foes of the Stellaron hunters and gather more Stellaron with Kafka.

“Something on your mind?” The blood on his hands could never be washed away, he wants to go back to that stupid Clove-V planet and talk to you.

“None of your business.” Kafka is surprised, it's the first time he sees Blade so irritated (he mostly is but not to this extent)

Kafka doesn’t ask again and they finish their mission.

In 4 days, he rushed to see you. You stopped replying to his messages, only a tiny ‘seen’ message pops up every now and then and he hates to admit it, he’s dying to see you again.

“Doctor.” Your door creaks open, another visitor it seems.

”Is it you Blade?”

He nods, but with a tightness to it, he sits beside you again, mold was already building up on your sink, your lack of mobility making you lose the ability to do normal tasks.

”Are you okay?”

”I wish.” How could someone act so carefree on the brink of death? He doesn’t understand you, no, not at all.

He wants to reach out for you, to comfort you but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. He doesn’t understand why he wants to comfort you, he understands why he cares so much, he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, he doesn’t even understand himself.

But when you smile at his hesitance, he realises, maybe you do.

He doesn’t reach out for you, he’s always an arm's length away from you, never close yet never too far. “You haven’t eaten, you’re going to die.”

Even if you eat, you will never get better; but he wants you to.

“Maybe, but I’m fine with that.”

”With dying? You’re a fool.” He doesn’t want to accept that you’re going to die, that you’re okay with dying because he’s not.

You’re a fool, a bastard, for trying to understand him but he can never understand himself nor can he ever truly understand you.

“You better not die,” his eyes desperately tried to never meet with yours.

He doesn’t want to look into your eyes, he doesn't want to accept the truth. That your eyes no longer beam with excitement at his words, that the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed.

“I know I will,” he no longer hides his worry, his fear, his desperation to keep you alive.

So he asks again, “What do I do?”

Like every other time he asks what ‘can’ he do for you, you repeat your words, “Just keep me company.”

He nods, sitting beside you. The tension in the air is obvious, neither utter a single word in this deafening (yet comforting) silence.

Blade cannot accept that you’re giving up, you’re not allowed to give up, he won’t accept it.

He drapes a blanket over you, “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Your throat burns, but you want to talk to him, even when you’re dying, you want to understand him.

”It hurts.” He doesn’t know what to do.

He wants to understand your pain, he wonders, if your pain is as worse as his, that it hurts so much you’d rather pass. That maybe, you’re the same and you wish to die too.

Neither of you will truly understand the other, but you try.

“I got sick when I was a child, 7– no, 8… I don’t remember,” he pretends he doesn't hear the rasp in your voice, “Just… Medicine made the progression slower.”

You could almost cry, “I wanted to study medicine, I wanted to heal others of their pain.”

”I don’t want to die.”

He doesn’t want to hear your desperate cry, he doesn’t hear it.

“Blade, it hurts,” he’s never wanted to shut off his ears when you spoke what he never wanted to hear, “Can I give up?”

He doesn’t want you to, but has no right to deny you peace.

”Is it okay if I give up?”

No, he won’t let you give up. You were there when he was sick, you did not look at him with hatred in your eyes, you treated him like any other person, something that has never happened in years. In your eyes, Blade was just a man.

So he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t want you to give up, of course; but what can he do?

“It’s okay, right?”

”If that’s what you need.” He holds your hand out of instinct, “Then give up.”

He wants to yell at you that you’re an idiot, that giving up is for the weak but it’d be hypocritical of him to do so, I mean, he’s given up on life a long time ago, what’s he going to do? Tell you inspirational shit to keep your will to live alive?

“Thank you.”

No tears escape him, not a single choked sob leaves his throat but when your eyes lock for one last time, you understood him and he understood you too.

You two were just the same.

He squeezes your hand and rests his head on your stomach, when you don’t flinch, he realises you’re gone now too.

He can no longer understand you by your words, you can no longer speak to him, he can’t understand your past or who you truly are.

But how could you, how did you do it?

A single medical book rests on his hand, he may not understand what you truly are, but he’ll read countless books for you. He’ll play your favourite stupid games for you.

Maybe then, he’ll understand the only person that truly knew him, who gave him company in this miserable life of his.

What a pathetic, miserable, bitter life.

Note: DEF OOC BUT WHO TF CARES (I DO AND IM EMBARRASSED) but its okay right?? Like i wrote this in just 2 days (5 hours everyday) Whatever whatever i think its okay i feel sick I haven't ate lunch yet bye wuahhshdsj

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[daydreaming-nerd]

Shadows and Sins (Ruhn Danaan x Reader)

Takes place pre HOFAS

My masterlist

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this for so long and guess what I GAVE HIM A BIKE HAHA biketok girls we ride at dawn. 

Summary: All is fair in love and war… (enemies to lovers inspired by House of Balloons by The Weeknd) 

Warnings: SA, intoxication, banter

Word count: 3981

Prince, starborn, bad boy, party animal, loose cannon and playboy, those were the words typically used to describe Ruhn Danaan. 

Asshole, spoiled brat, antagonizing, vexing and unfortunately handsome…those were the words I used to describe my best friend's brother.

Ruhn came into my life about a year ago when I started working at the archives with his younger sister Bryce, who I became friends with almost instantly. He came in one day demanding to speak to Bryce and since I thought he was just some lovesick guy like all the others who came panting after the redhead I promptly told him off. It wasn’t until 30 minutes of fighting back and forth that Bryce returned from lunch with Hunt that I found out I was wrong, and the prince never let me live it down. 

Since then, we were like oil and water, order and chaos, and love and war. Though I suppose all was fair when it came to that. 

We fought whenever we saw one another, which was often since him and Bryce had become reacquainted. At first she hated our squabbling, but with Athalar’s calming presence in her life she had grown to use it as free entertainment. So when the bell over the door to archives rang and her laugh echoed subsequently I knew I was in for a fight… 

“Brought your wallet,” called the voice I dreaded to hear. “You gotta stop leaving it at my place.”

“Thanks Ruhn,” Bryce chirped, confirming the worst. 

Sure enough I turned around to find Ruhn Danaan waltzing in like he owned the place, which I sure he could if he wanted to, he was a prince after all not that you could ever tell. In all the fairytales I had read as a little girl the prince’s always wore fine tunics and rode on white horses. But Ruhn opted for a black t-shirt and a speed bike and unfortunately if he had been anyone but who he is I would’ve found that incredibly hot.

“I still don’t know why you insist upon hanging out with the rabble,” Ruhn said to Bryce leaning his forearms against the countertop. 

Bryce shoots her brother a look that begs him to behave himself for once in his life, and part of me thought I should be the bigger person and not fight back. But I wasn’t a bigger person-I was a petty bitch, and I’ll be damned if I let Ruhn Danaan come into my place of employment and talk smack to me. 

“It’s probably because she needs at least one acquaintance who doesn’t need someone to wipe his ass for him,” I said with a fake smile, continuing to polish the silver chalice in my hand.

Bryce snorts as she shoves her wallet into her purse. Both of us turn to her to find her trying to hide her giggle at my comment. 

I cross my arms over my chest giving Ruhn a self satisfied look and as usual he won’t let me win that easily. 

“Funny you should mention it. I've been looking for someone else who would wipe it for me. Interested? I’m sure you’d love the view,” he smirks that godsdammned lip ring making an appearance. 

“One of these days I’m going to rip that ring right out of your lip,” I growl bracing my arms on the counter like I might do it right now. 

“Oh the women of Crescent City would weep at the loss of my beloved lip ring, they do so love when it grazes their-” 

“That’s enough!” Bryce shouts pushing Ruhn towards the door. “I do not want to hear about your bedroom activities!” 

“Same here I just ate lunch!” I shout from behind the desk. 

“Please, you're begging for more images of me to get off to!” Ruhn shouts from the threshold of the door as Bryce continues to push him. 

“If I wanted to see mediocre fucking I’m sure there’s a website for it!” I holler as Bryce closes the door. 

I smirk and waggle my fingers at him as he bangs on the door. Once again I got the last word and oh boy did it feel good. 

Bryce didn’t walk away from the door until the revving of Ruhn’s bike could be heard taking off down the road. She turned to me with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. My lip twitched up in amusement and her scorned look broke as both of us roared with laughter.

“Okay I have to admit the ass wiping bit was pretty good,” she chortled, coming around to help me polish again. 

“You like that one? I’ve been saving it.” I laugh remembering the look on his face when his own sister laughed at him. 

“I still hate that you two fight, but at least it’s like getting my own comedy show now,” she shakes her head. 

We finish our polishing in peace, talking over last night's episode of Fangs and Bangs, and our raucous plans for tonight. It was friday, which meant girls night was happening at The White Raven. It was honestly my favorite day of the week, I looked forward to it more than I cared to admit. Society called us vicious party girls, but how bad were we really? 

“So I’ll meet you there at 10?” Bryce asks, locking up the shop. 

“Yeah what are you wearing though?” I ask rummaging through my bag for the key to the lock on my scooter.

“I was going to wear that red silk dress, you know the one Hunt tried to tear off me,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Ooo someones playing dirty trying to get laid tonight,” I muse, if Bryce did one thing well it was ruffle Hunt’s feathers everytime he had to pick her up after a girls night. 

“Like I even have to try that hard anymore,” she laughs tucking the keys into her bag. 

“Oh how I wish I had a man to carry me home from the bar and dick me down afterwards,” I sigh with fake longing, though we both know I was telling the truth.

“Prince Charming is out there and who knows you might meet him tonight,” she smiles as she begins to walk towards her apartment. “Wear the black and silver dress!” she calls back. 

I shake my head and continue walking towards the other side of town. I hadn’t planned to wear the black and silver dress tonight but Bryce was never wrong about fashion, so black and silver it was. 

The White Raven was alive and bouncing per usual. Couples coupling in dark corners, some drunk girls grinding on each other wearing bachelorette tiaras, men shouting at their friends to finish their beers. Among those rowdy men, Ruhn Danaan. 

He had kindly greeted Bryce and unkindly greeted me when he first arrived. Bryce promptly shooed him off letting him know that it was girls night and he said he’d rather chew glass than stick around. While he was across the bar it didn’t help with the awareness that he was there. 

Normally girls nights were carefree, Bryce and I might end up dancing on a bartop and of course they would call the Umbra Mortis to haul us over his shoulders. Sometimes we would kick Hunt out his own bed and force him to sleep on the couch so us girls could have a “sleep over”. 

Tonight was different. The last thing I needed was to commit some atrocious behavior that Ruhn could put in his arsenal of insults. I could already hear him jesting about how I made out with a lion shifter or fell over on the dancefloor. So Bryce and I stuck to sitting at the bar, sipping our drinks and talking shit like sophisticated women.  

Two drinks turned to four, and four turned to six. The colorful lights only made my head spin faster as I downed the rest of my drink. I looked to my right to find Bryce’s nearly untouched. Athalar had showed up about ten minutes ago after our bartender told him we were approaching being cut off. Of course the moment Bryce saw him all bet were off… she now stood with her tongue down his throat and he didn’t seem inclined to protest. Turns out she was right about that red dress. 

I roll my eyes and grab her martini and down it slamming it back on the bartop, not like she was going to need it.

“Bryce I’m heading out,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder. 

She gave me a thumbs up as Hunt moved from her lips to her neck. I just shook my head and grabbed my purse. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go home alone, she had my location and we always kept tabs on one another.

The second I stood on my feet all the alcohol rushed to my head, and I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath to steady myself. I looked at my barstool and thought about sobering up, but the last thing I wanted to see was the mate makeout session, so I shook my head to try and clear my mind and sauntered out towards the door. 

The night air did little to sober me up, and my stilettos didn’t help with the wobbling. I pulled out my phone to try and find a ride home, but when the rideshare app quoted me $100 to go two miles I shoved my phone back in my purse with a huff and started walking towards my apartment. Like hell I was paying that for two miles.

My heels clicked on the pavement, echoing off the alley walls. Suddenly another pair of shoes echoed off the walls as well, not light and feminine steps, big clunky shoes. 

“Where are you going darling?” crooned a voice I didn’t recognize. 

I tried my best to pick up the pace, but the nature of my delicate shoes did little to give me any sort of advantage. My hands fumble with my purse trying to pull out the pepper spray Hunt got me for my birthday last year but those last two drinks were starting to catch up with me and my world was spinning. 

I feel a pair of hands grab my shoulders and slam me against the wall of the White Raven. My purse falls to the ground and I’m met with a pair of brown eyes. The guy had a backwards sunball hat and a blue shirt and he reeked of liquor. 

“Come on baby it’s not safe for pretty things like you to be out here,” he slurred, his body pressing closer to me. 

I cringe at the smell of his breath, “Get off of me creep!” I shout hoping that the alley isn’t that empty. 

My hands try to push him off but my intoxicated nature doesn't allow for much dexterity on my part.  

“Oh come on sweetheart don’t be that way,” he mumbled drunkenly, attaching his mouth to my neck. 

I try to push him off once more but I wobble, uneasy on my shoes. His hands fall from the small of my waist to the hem of my dress and I feel my blood run ice cold. 

“NO!” I shout scrumbling to get the sleeze off me. 

A hand grabs the back of the males collar and the sound of a fit making contact with his jaw reverberates through the alley as the male hits the ground. I stand shocked with my hands over my mouth as Ruhn Danaan shakes out the hand that delivered the punch and kicks the limp male. 

“You okay?” he asks nonchalantly, giving me a once over. 

I stand there still too stunned to speak, my eyes wandering from the male on the ground to Ruhn standing there with that damned black t-shirt clinging to his torso. 

He bends down to pick up my purse and shoves it into my arms. The gesture that finally breaks me out of shock. 

“T-thank you,” I mutter, still a little slow. 

“Where’s Bryce?” he asks looking around the alley, the sound of the club music inside still booming. 

I push myself off the wall stumbling a bit, “Inside sucking face with Athalar,” I slurr. 

“Thanks for the visual,” Ruhn purses his lips.

I straighten myself up and take a deep breath trying to act as sober as possible which probably was making me seem even more drunk, but I had to at least try. 

“Well thank you for uh…that,” I say gesturing towards the man still unconscious on the pavement. “I’ll see you around I guess.” 

I start wobbling down the alleyway once more, blinking my eyes rapidly to get my mind to clear and focus on walking home. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going princess?” he croons. 

Princess. Gods that fucking nickname. Most people would use it as a compliment or a pet name, but Ruhn knew how it drove me insane. He claimed I was just a spoiled princess one time and when I freaked out and yelled at him about it he proceeded to make that his nickname for me.

“I’m going home,” I sneer, trying to walk as best I can. 

“Like hell you’re walking home alone,” he growls, gripping my arm.

My eyes fly too the tattooed hand on my arm, and then up to those violet blue eyes that sparked with rage. 

“I do it all the time I’m fine,” I growl trying to rip my arm out of his grasp but I only succeed in making myself stumble more. 

He steadies me before speaking again, “Stop I’ll give you a ride,” he says motioning to his blacked out R1 parked in the alley. 

“I am not getting on that death trap with you after you’ve been drinking,” I scoff. 

“I’m not drunk, I don’t get drunk in public, it’s bad for appearances,” he says, irritation flitting across his unfairly handsome features. 

“Then how do I know you’re not going to dump me into Istros?” I sneer and the muscle in his jaw ticks and I can tell it’s taking everything in him not to fire back at me. 

“Because Bryce and I are finally on good terms and I’m pretty sure she would never forgive me if something happened to her best friend,” he explained, his words cold as ice. 

Maybe I was stupid, maybe I was drunk, maybe I was just cold and wanted to go home, but I actually believed him.

“Fine, let's go,” I say, walking towards his bike. 

I had to admit I always wanted to ride a motorcycle. Now riding on the back of Ruhn’s while I was drunk wasn’t exactly the time I wanted to do it, but I suppose beggars couldn’t be choosers. The bike was large and completely blacked out, if the moon hadn’t illuminated it just right I wouldn’t have been able to see it. 

Ruhn approaches the bike and starts the engine, every movement is like second nature to him. He takes the helmet off the seat and goes to put it on himself but then stops, turns to me, and punks it down on my head. The darkness of the visor mixed with the late hour making it impossible to see. I huff and flip it up, giving him a pointed glare. 

“I don’t have both helmets so this will have to do,” he says studying the way it fits me a little big. 

Tattooed fingers brush under my chin, tilting it up so he can buckle the strap for me. I would protest and say I’m capable of doing it myself but in my drunken state I’m not so sure. When he clips the buckle it pinches my skin for a moment and I yip.

“Ouch you pinched me!” I yelp smacking him in the arm. 

“Well if you stopped squirming I wouldn’t have pinched you,” he smirks, throwing his leg over the bike. “Now swing your leg over the bike and put your feet on these pegs,” he instructs me. 

I do as I’m told, using his broad shoulders as support as standing on one leg, drunk, in stilettos was never a good idea. Once I’m seated I keep my hands on his shoulders lightly and my bum on the edge of the seat, putting as much distance away from each other as possible. 

“You gotta hold on or you’ll fall off sweetheart,” he laughs, somehow finding humor in the precarious situation we’re in. 

“Yeah fucking right, like I’m going to wrap my arms around you like a little lovesick puppy,” I huff. “Just drive.” 

He shakes his head and revs the engine making the bike jerk forward. The momentum has my bum moving further into the seat and my arms instinctively wrapping around his middle, like I was afraid to fall off.

“There we go much better,” he smirks before revving the engine a couple of times. “Hold on tight princess.” 

I’m not given another warning before he speeds out onto the streets. Thankfully there aren’t a lot of cars and people out this late at night, but it doesn’t stop the crown prince from weaving around traffic that is there. He goes so fast I feel compelled to hold onto him with a deathgrip. 

By the time we pull up to my apartment my stomach is queasy. I swing my leg off the bike and nearly fall over until Ruhn catches my arms and hauls me up. 

“Woah there princess, maybe we better keep the helmet on, you’re a walking liability.” he laughs clearly enjoying seeing me in a vulnerable moment. 

“Take it off,” I grumble as I stand up straight again. 

He repeats the motion from earlier, tilting up my chin to help me take the damned thing off instead this time he ruffles my hair when he’s done. 

“You did pretty good for your first time as a backpack,” he smirks as I glare at him. 

I go to walk up my front steps and slip on my damned heels again, the ones that were definitely going to the back of the closet after this outing. Arm wraps under my shoulders and I feel Ruhn helping me up the steps to my second floor apartment. 

“You don’t have to do that, I can make it,” I grumble. 

“Trying to stay in Bryce’s good graces remember,” he says as I fumble with my keys.

My apartment wasn’t the nicest. It wasn’t a dump by any means, I did my best to keep it homey and clean, but it also wasn’t as nice as Bryce’s. Well I suppose Bryce and Hunt’s apartment now. God she was definitely having a better night than me. 

I walk inside and go to close the door but that damned tattooed hand stops me. 

“Not going to invite me in? That’s not very friendly,” Ruhn tuts walking right past me.

I scoff at him, walking in like he owns the place. Part of me wants to drag him out by his ear, but the logical part of me bends over to get myself out of these death trap shoes. I throw them across the room as punishment for their crimes tonight. 

When I walk further into my apartment I find Ruhn has completely made himself at home by grabbing a beer out of my refrigerator and cracking it open. 

“Are you serious?” I scoff walking to the sink across from him and getting myself a glass of water. 

“Consider it payment for the free ride home, I’ll take my thanks at any time you know?” he says smugly, taking another sip.

“Thank you for the ride,” I sigh. “Now will you please go?” 

He furrows his brows, “And waste a freshly opened beer? I don’t think so.” he says. 

I lean against the counter adjacent to him and sip my water. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the male. This was just like Ruhn, finding simple ways to get under my skin. I hated the fact that I liked the way he looked in my kitchen, black t-shirt in jeans, hair tied to the nape of his neck. 

Ruhn’s eyes flicker with amusement and then he chuckles, “I really do get under that delicate skin of yours don’t I princess?” he croons. 

“I told you. Don’t. Call. Me. Princess.” I snap at him, oh god if looks could kill. 

He pushes himself off  the counter, “Then stop fucking acting like one,”  he says low prowling forward with every step. 

The closer he gets the taller he looms. I know this little scare tactic, him trying to invade my space and make me feel small. It’s not like I have much of a choice either, not with the way my back is pressed into the counter. 

I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the expensive cologne pouring off him but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that is so damn arousing. A fucked up part of me wanted him to stick his tongue down my throat but I quickly threw that thought away. 

He was mere inches away from me when I started to think he would do just that. My pulse raced and my thighs clenched. But when his arm reached up brushing the shell of my ear it just kept reaching until it came to the top shelf of my cabinets and plucked the bag of chips off the shelf. 

My shoulders sag as I realize he was just reaching for a snack to go with his beer, and I mentally cursed myself for hoping it would be more. 

He chuckles, opening the bag of chips and popping one into his mouth, not moving from where he stood just inches away from me. He clearly was loving this little power trip he was on. 

“You look disappointed, princess,” he chuckles, fishing another chip from the bag. 

I roll my eyes and look to the side, unable to meet the predatory gaze that almost had me throwing my moral code out the window just minutes ago. 

His hand drifts under my chin pulling my gaze to his as he takes a step forward again. 

“Did you think I was going to kiss you?” he asks low, his thumb and forefinger pinching my chin so I can’t look away. 

I swallow the lump in my throat. My logic screams to shove him, my alcohol induced brain says to kiss him and my mouth can’t find the words to speak. 

Ruhn smiles, lowering his head to me, “Maybe I should kiss you, it would be good to shut you up,” he laughs, voice gravely. 

His lips are so close to mine I can feel the warmth of his breath, I swear the cool metal of that damn lip ring brushes my mouth. My body leans forward of its own accord but then he reaches his other hand up and pops another chip in his mouth thoroughly running the moment.

“No I don’t think I will kiss you, even though it’s clear that you want me to,” he smiles, that damn knee wobbling smile he gives every woman to bring them to their knees. 

I stand in a state of shock as he back up to his side of the kitchen again, he plucks his keys off the counter and twirls them in his hand as he walks towards the front door. 

“Have a good night, princess,” he says on the way out, putting an emphasis on the name that drives me crazy. 

I’m left standing alone in my kitchen, glass of water long since forgotten and mouth agape. Ruhn Danaan almost just kissed me, and the fucked up part of it was I wanted him to.

part 2 coming... Lmk if you want to be on the taglist for this little mini series.

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[infizero]

Why Ambrosius and Ballister’s Relationship Feels So Different in the Movie (Nimona)

As someone who read Nimona countless times growing up, I am very familiar with the story and these characters. Which is why when I watched the movie, I was struck by how different Ambrosius and Ballister felt. They seemed like totally different and unfamiliar characters to me, and it didn’t have anything to do with their designs.

After rereading the original Nimona graphic novel recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that the main reason they feel like completely different characters in the movie comes down to one thing: the removal of the joust.

When I watched the movie, I was surprised by the fact that they changed the circumstances that drove these two apart. But it didn’t hit me just how much this one event shapes both of their characters and their relationship to each other until I reread the book. 

The joust is CRUCIAL to their dynamic. It pervades every interaction they have with each other, they bring it up constantly, it is literally the crux of their collective storyline. We learn about it on PAGE 5 of the whole book, and their big heart-to-heart when Ballister is captured near the climax of the story is based around Ambrosius finally admitting the truth about what happened. Honestly I’d say that him finally coming to terms with what he did and apologizing for it is probably what allowed these two to finally find peace together by the end of the book.

We get something similar to it in the movie. Ambrosius still is responsible for Ballister losing his arm, but it is under WILDLY different circumstances. So I want to talk about how the joust affects them in the book, and then explain why the movie’s version of events, while similar on the surface, has a completely different effect on everything. So let’s get into it!

(All images of the book are via pictures of my own physical copy btw, so apologies if they’re not the best quality.)

(Also I want to make it clear that I don’t hate the movie nor its adaptation of these two. I do personally greatly prefer the book, but this post is not here to tear down the movie and exclaim that the book was way better. I just find it interesting how changing one event can have huge ripple effects!)

Part 1: The Graphic Novel (AKA: “My Boyfriend Shot Off My Arm Because of His Wild Ambition!”)

Like I said before, we learn about the joust very early on; Chapter 2, page 5. It is told to us first via Ballister’s perspective. Nimona asks if she can kill Ambrosius while they’re making evil plans, and Ballister says no -- if anyone is going to kill Ambrosius, it’s going to be him. We then get a flashback to the joust itself.

Ballister explains how they were friends and how the joust was the first time they had been pitted against each other. Ballister won fair and square, but in his words:

BALLISTER: “but Ambrosius hates to lose.”

BALLISTER: “He always claimed it was an accident. No one could prove otherwise.”

BALLISTER: “Turns out the Institution had no use for a one-armed hero. I took the only other viable option.”

Ambrosius used a weaponized lance and blasted Ballister’s arm off. After the incident, Ballister was rejected by the Institution, and became a villain instead of the hero he had originally set out to be.

In Chapter 3 we see Ambrosius appear for the first time, and he and Ballister have a very relaxed sort of cartoon hero-villain dynamic going on. There’s definitely real animosity between them, but they don’t hesitate to simply talk casually to each other or help each other when things go south. It’s all pretty lighthearted and lowkey. 

They fight briefly, but after Nimona triggers the building they’re in to self-destruct, Ambrosius doesn’t hesitate to help Ballister escape and Ballister doesn’t hesitate to accept his help. Ambrosius even tries to reassure him that Nimona will be fine. After they make it out, with Nimona presumed dead, Ambrosius puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him to go before more guards show up. They may be “arch-nemesises”, but they certainly don’t act like it.

AMBROSIUS: “Haven’t you missed our fights? We haven’t done this since you tried to clone the king’s daughter!”

BALLISTER: “Ambrosius, I really don’t have time for this.”

AMBROSIUS: “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

BALLISTER: “You’re an idiot.”

By the way, I’m not going to be doing a full breakdown of every single scene with them, don’t worry. I just think that their first interaction shows off their dynamic very well. This is presumably how they’ve been with each other since the incident, as it’s made clear both here and throughout the book that they’ve both been doing this for a while at this point. They have a very established dynamic, which is important as that is one of the big differences between the book and the movie. (I’ll get into that more later.)

Whenever these two interact throughout the book, it’s clear that they have very different opinions on the incident that drove them apart and how their relationship functions now.

Ambrosius tries to act like it was simply an accident and that it doesn’t matter. Ballister became a villain of his own volition, and now they are arch-nemesises who have to fight because that’s their job -- though he doesn’t exactly act like he hates Ballister. 

Meanwhile Ballister saw it as a deep betrayal, and while he definitely still cares deeply about Ambrosius, he cannot get over the incident as easily as Ambrosius can.

Their respective feelings about what happened are shown perfectly in the scene in Chapter 7 where Ambrosius invites Ballister to meet with him in secret. Ambrosius tells him that the Institution has ordered him to kill Nimona and begs him to send her away, both so he doesn’t have to kill her and so things can go back to “normal.” Ballister then says that Ambrosius gave up normal at the joust.

AMBROSIUS: “I can’t believe you’re still hung up about that. It was a long time ago, you know.”

AMBROSIUS: “Besides, it was an ACCIDENT.”

BALLISTER: “I bet you’ve said that so many times you’ve started to actually believe it.”

Ambrosius insists it was an accident, and Ballister claims that he blasted off his arm because he couldn’t stand that Ballister was better than him. This sets Ambrosius off and they begin to argue.

AMBROSIUS: “You can’t blame me for how your life turned out! You made the choice to turn evil!”

BALLISTER: “Choice? I never had a choice! The Institution needed a villain. That lot fell to me. I never chose it.”

BALLISTER “And it could just as easily have been you, had that “accident” happened differently!”

AMBROSIUS: “Oh please! Do you really believe that?”

AMBROSIUS: “You never had it in you to be a hero! Everyone always knew that you were going to be the one to go bad!”

Ambrosius has convinced himself that Ballister chose to become evil, and that he isn’t responsible for what happened because it was an accident. We later learn that it wasn’t an accident though, which means that this really is him just making excuses so he doesn’t have to accept responsibility.

Ballister brings up the idea of Ambrosius becoming like him again after they fight, in one of if not my favorite scene between them in the whole book:

AMBROSIUS: “uugghh”

BALLISTER: “What if I cut off your arm right now?”

BALLISTER: “Then you’d see how fast the Institution would cast you aside. Just like they did me.”

AMBROSIUS: “You wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “No, I wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “And I’m the villain.”

BALLISTER: “What do you suppose that says about you?”

Ballister and Ambrosius are both very complicated individuals, and I think they lose a lot of their moral grayness in the movie. (Which I will get to later.) 

Ambrosius is the “hero”, but it was his ambition that drove him to blast Ballister’s arm off, and he’s never accepted responsibility for it, instead trying to convince himself that Ballister turned out this way because of his own actions. But he doesn’t disagree here that the Institution would throw him out if he were to lose his own arm, which I think is very telling. He knows deep down that he is not a good person, and he is not working for good people. But he doesn’t want to admit it.

Ballister is the “villain”, but in many ways he is better than Ambrosius. He abides by his own rules of never killing unless it’s necessary, and goes out of his way throughout the book to make sure that as few people are harmed as possible. He knows that the Institution is corrupt, because he was one of the people it failed. And he works to try and bring it down. 

Ambrosius cannot accept what happened, and because of that they aren’t able to get anywhere. They both know it wasn’t an accident. But because Ambrosius cannot admit it, they are stuck like this.

It’s a fascinating part of Ambrosius’ character that though he is adamant about Ballister being the one to destroy himself, he still cares about him. Much more openly than Ballister does in return, in fact. Ambrosius consistently does whatever he can to avoid having to kill him and always seems to have his wellbeing in mind. While he initially refused to kill Nimona, revolted at the idea that he should be ordered to kill “a little girl”, he eventually agrees to do so, but only under the condition that Ballister would be spared.

THE DIRECTOR: “Your motivations are quite transparent. I KNOW what the nature of your relationship was. I made it clear at the time that I disapproved. If your fixation on him has impeded your ability to do your job, then he truly has outlived his usefulness.”

THE DIRECTOR: “We’ll find you a new nemesis. Perhaps you will be more competent without Blackheart as a distraction.”

AMBROSIUS: “I won’t kill him. If you demand I kill the girl, I’ll do it - but I won’t kill him.”

Despite him and Ballister’s separation being his fault, he is the one who wishes most for things to go back to the way they were.  And this is likely why he refuses to accept responsibility about the joust. If it were truly an accident, then there shouldn’t be anything preventing them from continuing to be together. By painting it as an accident, Ballister becomes the villain for refusing to move on and let things go back to the way they were, not Ambrosius.

But finally, after Nimona disappears and Ballister lets himself be captured, we get probably the most important scene between these two. Ambrosius has been demoted due to his failure to kill Nimona, and is now forced to guard Ballister’s cell. Ambrosius is at his lowest that he’s been throughout the story, disgraced and discarded by the Institution who he had always been so loyal to.

It’s notable that Ambrosius says here that they both know Ballister is not evil, since he has been paddling that idea this whole time that Ballister made the choice to turn evil. By admitting that he is not, it shows that he is both starting to turn against the Institution, and starting to be more honest about what really happened.

Naturally, after Ambrosius wonders how things ended up like this and reminisces on when they were together, Ballister once again brings up the joust. And finally...

AMBROSIUS: “I- I never wanted to hurt you. I- I didn’t- It was-”

BALLISTER: “Don’t you dare try to tell me again that it was an accident.”

AMBROSIUS: “It wasn’t.”

...he admits the truth.

Ambrosius shares his side of the story, letting both us and Ballister in on what really happened that day. It wasn’t fully his fault -- the Director had called him into her office the night before the joust and told him that he had promise, that he was her choice out of the two, but that he had to prove himself against Ballister or that opportunity would go away.

On the day of the joust, Ambrosius received a weaponized lance instead of his regular one, which he instantly noticed. He asked what the Director expected him to do with it, and was told that she expected him to win.

To Ambrosius’ credit, he had no intention of using it, as he was confident that he would win. But the weight from the weaponized lance threw his balance off, and he ending up losing. And so...

AMBROSIUS: “I wanted it, more than anything. You never wanted it as much as me. You were just BETTER, without hardly even seeming to try.”

AMBROSIUS: “I don’t even remember- but I must have-”

[...]

AMBROSIUS: “I’m sorry, Ballister. I’m so sorry.”

To be fair, Ambrosius is not entirely to blame here. I doubt he would’ve come up with this idea on his own; he only acted on it because the Director had already given him the weaponized lance, and stressed the night before that the opportunities she dangled in front of him would not be given to him if he did not win. He was manipulated.

But he still made the decision to do it. He could’ve simply not used the lance. But he chose to. It is his fault.

It’s fascinating that the version of events Ambrosius had been swearing by this entire time is the exact opposite of what really happened. He claimed that it was an accident, he didn’t choose to do it, he had no choice, and that it was Ballister’s choice to become evil that caused all of this. But in reality, Ambrosius was the only one who got a choice here. And that choice is why their relationship was destroyed.

Ballister then brings attention to something even more damning:

BALLISTER: “You’ve never said it before.”

AMBROSIUS: “What?”

BALLISTER: “You never said you were sorry.”

AMBROSIUS: “I- didn’t?”

AMBROSIUS: “Oh god.”

I feel like you could interpret this in a lot of different ways, but the way I see it, they probably didn’t see each other much right after the incident. Ambrosius was catapulted into stardom as the kingdom’s beloved knight, and Ballister became a villain. I don’t think they really interacted much until their hero-villain antics started up, so I don’t think Ambrosius really had a chance to apologize. And if he did, he didn’t think to. Regardless of why, I do think it is messed up that he never apologized, and it goes to show just how much this event destroyed the bond they used to have.

From here, there’s not too much, as Plot Stuff starts getting serious around this point. Ambrosius ends up betraying the Institution after they continuously attack Ballister to provoke Nimona, attacking the guards who are holding him. This is when Ambrosius finally chooses Ballister over the Institution, which is great for his character, but there’s not really much more than that to say about it.

He and Ballister plan together to try and save the kingdom, with Ambrosius being adamant that they have to kill Nimona while Ballister refuses to. It’s during this conversation that Ambrosius mentions that he “never did anything good [his] whole life”, which is really sad but also kind of accurate, and it goes to show how he’s finally accepted responsibility for everything he’s done and had a part in up to this point.

Eventually Ballister is able to find a way to nerf her and they split up, with Ambrosius wanting to tell him something in case they don’t see each other again, but Ballister shuts him down.

BALLISTER: “We can’t do this now. Just... just promise me you won’t get yourself killed.”

It’s easy to assume this was something romantic and it likely was, but I imagine Ambrosius could’ve also wanted to say sorry again for everything. Perhaps it would’ve been a mix of both.

Regardless, they split up and climax stuff happens: Ambrosius attempts to kill Nimona but gets seriously injured, Ballister tries to reason with Nimona, etc. etc. Eventually at the very end, we see that these two have made peace and are together again, living on after everything. And that’s these two in the book!

Whew. I know that was a lot, but don’t worry. I won’t be going into as much detail about the movie’s version of events, as Ambrosius and Ballister have a much more cut-and-dry dynamic there than in the book. Their relationship in the original is very complex, so I wanted to make sure I covered all of those little nuances.

The joust is what defines their relationship and a lot of their respective characters; it is unimaginably important. Ballister became a villain because he lost his arm and was cast aside by the Institution. Ambrosius became the kingdom’s hero because he took Ballister out of the picture. They are unable to be around each other normally for very long because of their divided views of what happened. It is only after Ambrosius finally faces the truth that they are able to find peace together once more.

All of this is to say that it’s extremely hard to imagine what their relationship would be like in the graphic novel had the joust not happened the way it did. Which brings us to...

Part 2: The Movie (AKA: “My Boyfriend Sliced Off My Arm Because I Literally Killed Someone!”)

Before we start, I want to again stress that I am not trying to argue that any changes made here are inherently inferior. I am merely pointing out the differences between the book and the movie that contribute to the overall dissonance I and many others have felt when it comes to these two across versions.

Right off the bat, we are greeted with the movie’s version of Ambrosius and Ballister’s backstory. Like was implied in the book, they appear to be together (or something along those lines) which is great to actually see. But it quickly becomes clear that the events here are far different.

Instead of a joust, it is a knighting ceremony. There is no competition between Ballister and Ambrosius here. Ambrosius is knighted and cheered for, and then it is Ballister’s turn. He is knighted and everyone is silent before breaking into cheers as well. And then...

...his sword suddenly turns into a cannon and kills the queen. And in retaliation...

...Ambrosius chops his arm off.

Now if you’ve listened to ANYTHING I’ve said so far, this should immediately set off alarm bells. Because this one little difference changes everything about these two’s dynamic.

In the book, Ambrosius shot off Ballister’s arm in order to win his position. It was an entirely selfish and evil action spurred on only by his uncontrollable want to be the winner.

But here, Ambrosius is debatably justified in his response. Sure, he didn’t have to be as drastic as slicing his whole arm off (and I know there’s symbolism there with how the kingdom has taught people to get rid of problems), but Ballister -- to him -- literally just shot the queen. The queen who Ambrosius has sworn to protect. It is completely reasonable for him to respond in this way. And that’s a huge difference.

By changing this, we already have a completely different situation. Ambrosius here didn’t particularly want to cut Ballister’s arm off, it was a reflex, a response to a sudden danger. (Not saying he wanted to in the book, but there he made the deliberate decision to do so. In the movie it seems much more like an actual accident -- an overreaction that he immediately regrets and, as we’ll see, continues to regret.) And there was justification for it. There was no justification for it in the book. 

Instead of an Ambrosius whose ambition caused him to commit an evil act of betrayal against the man he was closest to, we now have an Ambrosius who, in the heat of the moment, overreacted like he was trained to after Ballister seemingly betrayed him. We’ll see over the course of the movie how this affects things, but that’s not the only major change here.

As we figure out shortly afterward, the movie makes a huge change when it comes to how the story functions, and that’s the timeline of events. In the book, the joust and the subsequent fallout between Ballister and Ambrosius happened years ago. We don’t know how long, but it’s clearly been a while. Enough time has passed where they are fully settled into their roles as hero and villain, and they look significantly younger in the flashbacks as well.

Like previously stated, book Ballister has been a villain for a while. He is completely settled into this role and has been making schemes and having fights of the week with Ambrosius for a considerable time. He knows what he’s doing. He has his own way of doing things, and when Nimona inserts herself into his life much of their early dynamic is him teaching her how he does things. In the book, Ballister is the teacher, Nimona is the student.

But in the movie, this incident just happened. It's unclear how exactly long it's been, but judging from Ballister's arm being created and his wounds healing it's probably been around a month.

Regardless of exactly how long it's been, the point is that these events are still very fresh. Ballister seemingly has just been laying low, not villain-ing it up, and he and Ambrosius haven't seen each other since the knighting ceremony. This changes literally everything about Ballister’s character. This post is specifically about Ambrosius and Ballister’s dynamic and not a Ballister character analysis so I’ll try to keep it brief, but movie Ballister seriously could not be more different from the book.

Compare this to movie Ballister, who I’m pretty sure never knows what he’s doing ever, at any point. He was training to be a knight. He has seemingly never once questioned the Institution. Now he has suddenly lost his arm and been thrust out into the unknown of being treated as a villain, and he has no idea how to handle it. Then Nimona shows up, tells him “hey, the Institution sucks”, and eventually he ends up believing so as well. In the movie, Nimona is the teacher, Ballister is the student.

Book Ballister actively resents the Institution and has no doubts that what they did to him is wrong. He has been plotting their downfall for a while. Nimona, on the other hand, seems to be out of the loop when it comes to the Institution and seemingly only starts hating them after she finds out how they threw Ballister out. Again, I’d just like to stress how completely and totally opposite their dynamic in the movie is compared to this.

There’s also Ballister being a scientist and being much more jaded in the book, but that’s not really important for the purposes of this post. So alas, I shall move on.

This different timeframe greatly impacts Ambrosius and Ballister’s dynamic, and obviously it would. There is a huge difference between a falling-out that happened years ago and you’re both still bitter about, and a falling-out that happened very recently. This, along with the different course of events resulting in said falling-out, is what causes their dynamic to feel so alien.

Also while talking about their early interactions in the movie, I’d just like to point out that while here Nimona is the one to assume Ambrosius is Ballister’s arch-nemesis and call him such, which Ballister doesn’t agree with, they were actually arch-nemeses in the book. Just something I noticed.

Something else I find interesting is later on, Ballister seems to be almost in disbelief about Ambrosius cutting off his arm and makes excuses for him.

BALLISTER: “He didn’t cut off my arm. He disarmed a weapon.”

BALLISTER: “It’s how we were trained.”

(Side note, but I wonder if book Ballister ever felt this way right after the joust? Did he try to convince himself it was an accident too, once upon a time? Did he try to make excuses?)

And to be fair, he is sort of right. Like I said before, Ambrosius’ reaction to Ballister seemingly killing the queen was debatably justified. While we’re obviously supposed to side with Nimona here and agree that Ballister should be more upset at Ambrosius for what he did, the movie definitely paints Ambrosius as more sympathetic overall. We see him freaking out internally about cutting off Ballister’s arm, and there is a lot of emphasis placed on how he and the others were trained by the Institution, inviting the audience to place more of the blame on the system that taught Ambrosius to act this way rather than him as a person.

And again, I’m not saying this is a bad thing! I love a good "taking down a corrupt system” story, and with the different circumstances of the movie it definitely makes more sense to play it this way. But in comparison to the book, Ambrosius is much easier to sympathize with. His character is changed from a very morally gray person who did something horrible and won’t admit it, to a pretty okay person who did something horrible and wholly accepts and bemoans that fact. He’s almost the opposite of what he was in the book.

So we have an Ambrosius who accepts what he did to Ballister and feels awful about it, and a Ballister who has no idea what he’s doing and is basically just being dragged around by Nimona. With both of them being basically the complete opposite of how they were in the book, is it any wonder that their relationship with each other feels so different when they themselves are so different?

Also, once again, the circumstances are very different. There is no Queen murder plot in the book, nor is their any attempt to clear Ballister’s name. A significantly different setting makes a difference too.

I don’t see a need to go into further detail about specific scenes in the movie as I think I’ve made my point clear. But going back to the movie’s lack of Ambrosius and Ballister’s already established hero-villain dynamic, I think these differences are made quite apparent just contrasting how they talk to each other. I mean, just compare these two scenes:

AMBROSIUS: “What? You’re gonna kill me now too?”

BALLISTER: “You believe that?”

BALLISTER: “Then you never knew me at all.”

AMBROSIUS: “uugghh”

BALLISTER: “What if I cut off your arm right now?”

BALLISTER: “Then you’d see how fast the Institution would cast you aside. Just like they did me.”

AMBROSIUS: “You wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “No, I wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “And I’m the villain.”

BALLISTER: “What do you suppose that says about you?”

Their relationship in the movie is much softer and healthier than it was in the book. Their dialogue in the movie tends to lean much more towards tried-and-true “friendship betrayal” stuff; the wound of Ballister’s “betrayal” may be fresher, but it’s clear both of them love each other far more than they resent each other. In the book, it is the opposite. The movie could NEVER have the bar fight scene. It’s too ugly and bitter to fit these softer versions of Ambrosius and Ballister.

Part 3: Conclusion

So, that was a lot. I hope it’s a little clearer now how big the differences are between these two’s dynamic in the book and the movie! Especially if you’re someone who is only familiar with one or the other. While I prefer the book due to me tending to prefer more complex and messy relationship dynamics, I totally understand the appeal of the more loving and healthy relationship Ambrosius and Ballister have in the movie.

To summarize, here are some of the main takeaways:

Ambrosius causing Ballister to lose his arm is completely unjustified in the book and happens due to Ambrosius’ wild ambition, while in the movie it is a debatably justified reflexive action in response to an active threat.

Ambrosius overall is portrayed as much more sympathetic in the movie, with the system itself being more to blame for what happened.

In the book, the main thing keeping them apart was Ambrosius’ refusal to take responsibility and admit what he did. In the movie, it’s a misunderstanding about Ballister seemingly turning evil.

In the book, Ambrosius and Ballister have a very established hero-villain dynamic with the joust having happened years ago. In the movie the “betrayal” is still very fresh, which leads to very different interactions between the two.

And that’s about it! Thank you for reading this very long post. And if you haven’t read the original graphic novel or watched the movie, go do that!!! Much love to ND Stevenson and the rest of the people who made this story come to life.

Let me know your thoughts in the tags or the replies! Which version do you prefer? Are there any other factors you feel have a significant role in why their relationship feels so different? Or do you think I’m totally wrong about this and they feel basically the same to you?

Either way, thanks again for reading and goodbye!

[pedgito]

i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[spacerockfloater]

I am so displeased with Alicent’s character development, if you can even call it that.

Her taking her frustration out on Criston and slapping him because her grandchild died? Disturbing as hell, but I was willing to led it slide because she was grieving and it seemed like Cole understood that, too.

Her letting Gwayne insult the fuck out of Criston and be racist/ classist towards him without defending her lover in the slightest? The man who has no personal gain from all this shit-show and does it all for her sake? I was fucking livid. Tell me, whose loyalty is as fleeting as a moth’s again?

And then having the audacity to be angry with him for not standing up for her when she herself didn’t do the same for him? What is wrong with her!? Especially when Criston made a perfectly valid point: she doesn’t have the heart to do what must be done to win this war, which is crazy considering that she was fully ready to fight Rhaenyra to protect her children. The children she borderline hates now apparently (I can’t get over how much she suddenly disapproves of Aegon and Aemond this season), which would have been fine since they are her rapist’s children and all, but then why would you go to war and not be ready to do whatever it takes to win it? What do her and Rhaenyra think that they’re doing here? Did they plan on being the first pacifist war leaders in the history of the universe or what? Neither of the two act like women with motherly instincts or humans with personal agendas to pursue. It’s as if all of the women in this show are competing for the fucking Nobel Peace Prize.

By the way, speaking of her and Rhaenyra, the parallel of them being women who are ignored by their council is so forced. Alicent never wanted to rule neither in the show or the book. In HOTD she supports her son’s claim to save her family from Rhaenyra and her faction and in F&B she does it because she feels that the law is on her son’s side and he deserves the throne. She NEVER does it for herself or because she thinks women shouldn’t rule. Never out of selfishness or misogyny. So where the fuck did this “parallel” come from? It’s so infuriating.

I understand this is not completely her fault. I think her character peaked in S1 E9 and the producers saw how justified her actions were and how sympathetic she is (even Emma D’Arcy said they are on her side) that they decided to knock her down a peg, because God forbid the Greens have anything good going on for them! Let’s make them all hate one another! She’s slowly regressing back to herself from the first half of S1, because the determined mother and queen that was ready to win at all costs is no longer there.

As someone who has spent countless hours of my life defending and praising her, I am so saddened by her behaviour this season. I know this is Ryan’s tactic to make us hate the Targtowers, but nonetheless it is show canon and I feel the need to be fair and hold her accountable for it.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - epilogue

you know you never stood a chance series

epilogue: maybe light a candle

series masterlist | prev chapter 

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Joel hasn't come home yet. (this takes place about three years after the end of the main story.)

Warnings: established relationship, angst, christmas in the apocalypse, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, mentions of breastfeeding (not as a fetish), found family, poor communication, oral (f receiving), postpartum depression, possibly violating child labor laws by using a baby as a plot device, pls remember I am playing fast and loose with both canon and the timelines lol

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Christmas Eve.

Or, at least, according to the council. You’re not sure if anyone is really sure what the date is anymore.

But for all intents and purposes, maybe it’s Christmas Eve. The holiday is a thin, moth-bitten version of its former self, but you’ve never been the holly-jolly or the religious sort, so Christmas Lite suits you just fine.

Maria had invited you and Lulu to the mess hall for a big meal and activities for the kids. It was less of an invitation than an expectation, but you stayed home anyway.

And maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe she wanted you there for the same reason you didn’t want to be there. She’s fucking tough, maybe the strongest person you know, but she has to be feeling Tommy’s absence today, too. It isn’t Aléjandra’s first Christmas, but likely the first one she’ll remember, which is worse.

But it’s more than it just being Lulu’s first Christmas. It’s that Maria had made a point of telling you that Ellie would be there.

You prepare to watch her leave for the night. The light pours in the window when she opens the shed door, and you know she can see your shadow haunting the living room.

You want Ellie to meet her sister. You dream of it nearly every night. But there’s no way in hell you’re doing it without Joel. It’d break his heart. You like to think she knows, at least. Someone (probably Tommy) had to have told her.

So when she climbs the steps instead of walking past, you freeze. Her knuckles rap against the wood, and you close your eyes. You can’t. You need to, but you can’t.

“Maria asked me to remind you that you promised to come by tonight,” she calls through the door.

She knows you can hear her. She knows you choose not to respond (but she doesn’t know you bite your lip so hard to resist that it bleeds).

It would be wrong. But the ache is so strong you’re convinced it must be a physical wound.

She leaves.

“There goes Ellie,” you tell the baby, as you always do. “She’s got places to be, but she loves you very much.” The guilt of keeping them apart makes you nauseous.

Maybe it isn’t true yet, but you think it is. You think, despite everything, despite the anger she harbors for Joel (and a fragment of that for you), that she already loves her sister. Even if she’s only the shadow of a sister spied through dark windows and across the street.

You wonder if she knows her name. Tommy had started the whole “Lulu” thing, and though it had grown on you now, it made you suspect he hadn’t thought to mention she had a real, full name.

Luna Luann. Luna, for Ellie, and Luann for Joel’s favorite tía, the one who smuggled them chewing gum and taught Joel his strong right hook when the other kids were picking on Tommy.

You’d take this secret to the grave, but you hated the name Luann. But when he brought up the suggestion, he had talked about her for nearly twenty minutes, and so you love the woman despite her name, just for the way she brought a little more of Joel out.

You thought they’d be home by Christmas. You’re trying not to worry, but worrying’s one of the things you’re good at. It doesn’t help that you’re still struggling. You’ve been told it’s normal, but these last two weeks with Joel gone have been so hard.

She’s cutting a tooth (her very first), and you can barely catch a break. You sleep when she sleeps, but it’s never enough. A few neighbors have been bringing casseroles still, and it’s the only reason you’ve been eating.

So, you think it’s probably understandable that you crumble after you watch Ellie walk away and Luna starts to cry. The lights are out except for the single candle in the front window. You keep it lit all night in case Joel comes home. A beacon.

If you had a widow’s walk, you’d be haunting it. But you’re not a widow—couldn’t be, you’re not even a wife—and he’ll be fine. He’ll come back.

Joel always comes back.

It might be Christmas Eve, and you’re slumped against the wall of your living room, crying in tandem with your infant. There’s nothing wrong, you checked. It’s so much worse that she’s probably just picking up on your mood.

You orbit around each other that way. She is the sun that you and Joel revolve around, but his absence has sent you both off balance.

The sun might be the more accurate comparison, but you usually like to say Lulu, your Luna, was your moon, and Joel was the sun. He disagrees. He says he’s the rock, and you are her light.

It was profoundly beautiful, but none of the concepts held up to the reality. The truth was that you were a constellation, but without Ellie, you made no recognizable form. Sagitta with one feather, an arrow that can never fly true.

When you settle down to sniffles and the errant tear, Lulu has fallen asleep against your chest. You creep upstairs and lay her in the crib squeezed between the bed and the wall.

The room was plenty large, and part of it had been set up as a nursery. But after she was born, you spent each night on the floor next to the crib.

Joel hadn’t been having that. After the first week, he sat you down and asked if you’d be able to sleep in the bed if she was next to you.

And then he just… built a second, smaller crib. One that fits right up against your side of the mattress. It was low to the ground, so all you had to do was reach down, and you could feel her little chest rise and fall, or scoop her up to nurse her in the middle of the night. She’ll grow out of it fast, but by then, you hope you’ll feel secure enough to move her to the big one just across the room.

You had been embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know. After all, mothers had been putting their children to sleep in different rooms for ages. But you weren’t afraid to tell Joel, knew if there was anyone in this town that understood, it’d be him (and Maria).

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ your baby close,” he said, as gruff and blunt as always.

When Joel comes home, he finds you that way. On your side, arm dangling into the crib with Lulu’s tiny fingers wrapped around your own. He sat down and gently tapped your shoulder, trying not to disturb the baby.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he whispers when you stir. You blink up at him through sore eyes, then smile softly, sending his heart skittering.

“You’re home,” you say, extracting your finger and sitting up to reach for him.

He wraps you in his arms, lets you burrow into the nest of his broad shoulders. “M’sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, chasing the words with a kiss.

“Tommy okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Just hit some delays on the way home. Bridge was out. I thought y’all were going to the party?”

You don’t answer right away. You know he’ll feel bad. That he does feel bad, that the guilt eats a little part of him each day. All he wants is his girls all together.

“I was,” you mumble, feeling the tears prick with a vengeance. “But Maria said… Maria said that Ellie would be there.”

Joel’s arms squeeze you a little tighter for a moment. “Y’know I don’t want to get in the way of you talkin’ to her.”

“I know. But after last time… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, anyway.”

“She’ll come around,” Joel says.

It reignites a new round of self-hatred, that he’s sitting here consoling you. After all, she had spoken to you after their fight. Sat down and told you she wasn’t mad at you, that she knew he probably didn’t even tell you.

And he hadn’t told you, hadn’t clued you in, trying in his foolhardy way to spare you the burden of the lie. And you were mad at him for it; you’d had your own spat after.

But you weren’t mad he did it. Not one bit.

He can tell you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that’s fine by him.

“You miss me, baby?” he murmurs, a teasing brush of his lips over your neck.

You roll your eyes. “Oh no, did you have to go two weeks without gettin’ laid?”

He chuckles, dark and raspy, as he reaches to cup your ass and squeeze, smirking when you gasp.

“And you’re tellin’ me those little fingers were enough for your greedy cunt? Like ya ain’t droolin’ for my cock right now?”

You whimper. He’s right. Two weeks is too fucking long for either of you.

He tugs you properly into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, before he just stands up and carries you into the guest room across the hall. It’s not ideal, but if you leave both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Luna if she wakes.

“How’ve you not thrown your back out?” you grumble as he manhandles you.

He tosses you onto the bed, already peeling off his clothes and pointedly ignoring you.

He’s halfway through tugging his jeans down when he stops and looks at you. “What’re you doing? Let me see ya, sweetheart.”

You’ve long gotten over how easy you are for him. You only hadn’t stripped yet because you wanted to work him up. “You can see me just fine. Or do you need your glasses, old man?”

He takes the bait, shaking his head, before looming over you and running his hands down the sides of his old shirt you use for a nightgown. He barely grazes your breasts, just brushing the tips of your hardened nipples and grinning when you whine.

“Up,” he orders, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

You lift enough for him to pull it off and flop back down. It’s your turn to smirk as he watches the way your tits bounce with deep hunger.

And then he fucking rips the along the side of your panties and pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.

“Hey!”

“Shut up, you can sew ‘em back.”

“I’ve already sewn that pair twice, Joel. You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly his breath is hot against your cunt, and you clench around nothing.

“Uh-huh,” you moan as he runs one finger along the seam of your cunt. “‘Cause you’re a menace.”

“Only for you, darlin’.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Let me do a survey around town.”

He shuts you up by sliding two fingers right into your cunt, the stretch almost too much. Almost. But you don’t really notice because he buries his face between your lips, and any sassy remark comes out in a desperate cry.

He pulls away and gives you a warning look, head tilted. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, thick fingers clamping down and digging into your cheek. It makes you moan, but it also muffles it, so it works out fine.

“If you want your turn, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise, I’ll just have mine and shut you up proper.”

You choke down the moan dredged up by the thought of his cock down your throat and make the saddest pleading eyes you can muster.

He rolls his, shaking his head, before he goes back to your neglected clit.

You’re close, so close when you hear it. You pat Joel’s head, sitting up. “Was that the door?”

The shift is immediate. Three years in town has allowed Joel to relax somewhat, sometimes, but he slips back into it in an instant. He pulls back, brow furrowed, squinting like it’ll help him hear better.

It comes again, louder this time, insistent enough for him to pick up. A firm knocking.

There’s a pause, but Joel’s already on his feet, pulling his clothes back on. He tosses your shirt over as he ducks out of the doorway and you’re slipping it over your head when whoever is outside grows impatient.

Rapid, furious banging rattles the door, and you dart across the hall to shut the bedroom, but it’s too late.

Lulu starts wailing immediately, her little face scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and tears pouring out faster than a faucet. You scoop her up and soothe her, cradling her as she finds solace for her hurt feelings and empty stomach.

Joel goes downstairs, partly to shut up the racket but mostly because the sound fills him with dread. When he opens the door, it flings wide, and the tirade begins immediately.

Ellie storms in, already yelling. “—could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? You won’t even let her come out for fuckin’ Christmas because she might see me?”

You’re going down the stairs as soon as you hear her voice, but she stops yelling when she sees you on the landing.

“It’s not his fault,” you say, face hot with frustration and raw hurt. You hate the way your eyes water.

“Like hell, it isn’t. Maria said you were going to come, that one of you might actually have the balls to tell me you had a fuckin’ baby, and—”

“And I decided not to go, Ellie. Joel wasn’t even home. He didn’t know.”

Lulu has started to cry again, distracted from nursing by your ire. You murmur apologies, kissing the little tuft of dark hair on her head, and try to coax her back to your breast.

Ellie’s eyes are wide, and feet planted, ratty sneakers dripping filthy snow across the floor. Her mouth hangs open as she takes in the tiny, ruddy creature who finally agreed to return to her meal.

“Hey, Ellie. We had a fuckin’ baby,” Joel says after the silence hangs for a minute too long.

The bark of laughter that bursts out of her looks like it hurts, but she can’t fight it. The tension dissolves into absurdity and then tears.

Ellie sits on the ground instead of the perfectly nice sofa to her left. You come down the stairs and sit beside her.

You look up at Joel, and he nods. You wish he’d come sit, but he’s too afraid to break the peace. “Would you like to hold your sister?” you ask Ellie, keeping your voice low and steady.

“Can I? I mean… what if I break her?”

“She’s pretty tough.” Lulu is done eating, just suckling for comfort, so you pry her off your breast and tug your shirt back up.

Joel takes her without thinking, leaning her against his shoulder to help her work out the air.

Once she gives a satisfactory belch, he thrusts her at Ellie, who’s startled enough to take her without thinking about it.

You all hold very still. Except Lulu, who is blissfully unaware of the strife and coos up at her big sister. She bats a little hand at her face, smacking her nose in an attempt to grab on. Ellie laughs, and her smile, her perfect smile that you haven’t seen in a year, breaks out.

You can’t help it; you start crying. Ellie looks up in alarm, but Joel shakes his head, moving closer to rub your shoulder.

“It’s not you,” he says solemnly, “it’s just hard, after.” He gestures at the baby.

“It is you,” you say, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face with a soft groan. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just—”

Ellie’s looking like she might make a break for it. She tries to hand the baby back to Joel, who refuses.

You get ahold of yourself. “It’s not bad, Ellie. I’ve just been waiting for this since she was born.”

Ellie softens and then scowls. “Then you should have told me. You should have told me you were pregnant in the first place. I said you could talk to me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” and you pause as she shoots a dirty look at Joel. “No, not because of him. Because I would have done the same damn thing, so you may as well hate me too.”

“What?” She seems genuinely shocked, which you don’t have the patience for.

“I would do the same damn thing. If I had been there, there would have been nothin’ in the fuckin’ world keeping me from getting to you, Ellie. Nothing short of death. Not then, not now. I’d do it for her, too.”

The room is stifling, and Joel hasn’t even lit the hearth yet. Your breath comes out in little puffs, and every one of you has wet, devastated eyes. Even Lulu, who looks like she might be the first to break into tears.

Ellie looks down and sighs. “So, Lulu, huh?”

“Actually,” Joel says, and chances a step closer, squatting down. “It’s Luna. Luna Luann. Tommy’s just an idiot.”

Ellie’s a smart kid. You can see the moment it clicks—the way she looks up at Joel with something akin to hope. It fades quickly, but you know he saw it, too. His own staggering heart, heavy with love unspoken, is betrayed in the way he has to fight a smile, choke down the relief. Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe next year, you’ll get a tree.

thank you all so, so much.

*title from "Alone This Holiday" by The Used

[genshin-obsessed]

When Someone Flirts with You | Haikyuu [Karasuno]

Ok, so I debated on this for a while because this has already ben posted. However, its on a blog I don't/can't go on anymore. Since this is my writing (idea and all), I'm gonna repost it here. I did debate on reblogging the fic here, but it's my works and I want them with me, on this blog. Basically, if you've seen this exact fic posted two years ago, it was me. That blog has my name and everything if you need proof. I just don't want to draw attention to it. I did reuse tags lol cuz I don't know them too well yet

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Kei Tsukishima, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Ryunosuke Tanaka, Yu Nishinoya, Asahi Azumane, Koshi Sugawara, Daichi Sawamura

Extra: they're all aged up btw

COME ONE! COME ALL! See what happens when someone flirts with you in front of your mans!

➺ Shoyo Hinata

He’s kinda scared of PDA? Not scared, but he gets embarrassed easily. So there’s not much touching in public, aside from hand holding. This leads people to not know you’re taken and so you’re fair game.

This boy is NOT scary. He’s quite the opposite unless he has his MOMENT which is rare and fizzles out really fast. At first, he’ll let you handle the situation and ONLY jump in when he’s positive you require help. He’s not a helicopter boyfriend, you’re an adult. You can handle yourself. So, he’ll usually come up and tell the person that you’re uncomfortable and that they should go away.

That’s never worked before. Ever. Not one time. Hinata just looks CUTE and he’s not the tallest. Even as an adult, he’s still about 172cm (5’7). So there’s a chance the person is taller than him and if they are, they won’t take him seriously. The whole “under 6ft is not a man” bs. They’ll just shove him aside to get to you.

He hates that. There’s one thing to tease him and bully him but YOU? Oh that’s a whole nother ball game. Hinata doesn’t like seeing you upset/uncomfortable. He does everything in his power to keep you smiling so when he sees someone directly causing you discomfort… God help them.

The next method would depend on the situation. If he has a ball with him, he will throw it (this happened once at practice when you came to watch and someone wouldn’t leave you alone). But he can also jump to their height and punch/slap them. Hinata has gotten much stronger since his high school days. He will defend you at all costs.

His little jump attack? 10/10 it works EVERY SINGLE TIME and they’re GONE. Or you know… unconscious. Usually the area would go dead silent and all you can hear is Hinata huff. He’ll take your hand as gently as he can and lead you out of the establishment. Once you have fresh air, he’ll gently take your shoulders and ask if you’re ok. Reassurance is especially important here.

“They’ll never bother you again, (n/n). Are you ok?”

➺ Tobio Kageyama

Tobio isn’t one to flaunt your relationship because he’s a pretty private person. So not EVERYONE knows you’re together. Which is completely fine and acceptable, it’s just how he is. The thing is, this leads to situations where people think you’re single. If he walks away or you’re alone, people will take their chance.

 You get hit on when you’re alone, usually. So, you’ll always try to find Tobio when you’re in that situation. He’ll spot you in seconds. He’s always got an eye on you (cuz you’re hot and he can’t help it).   You’ll get the person to see Tobio and he’ll just GLARE. Usually, about 9 times outta 10, his death glare makes everyone go away. It’s pretty scary, especially if he’s like two feet away from them.

But there’s always one person it doesn’t work on. The one who decides to push it and try to physically touch you. This has only happened once, but the person rolled their eyes, pushed Tobio away, and pushed you against the wall.

Oh boy. Tobio doesn’t care if people bother HIM but someone who makes you uncomfortable tries to touch you? Their funeral. Especially this dirtbag. Your eyes widened in pure fear and panic when your back roughly hit the wall. The person’s face was inches away from your own and you couldn’t see Tobio anymore. You’d frozen up completely.

It only lasted a second before the person was on the floor. You’d barely had time to blink before Tobio DRAGGED them and roughly threw them to the side. The person glared and sat up, ready to curse him out when Tobio kicked him in the chest. This is usually how it would go. He takes them by surprise and throws them to the ground, all while barely breaking a sweat.

10/10 they’re probably unconscious or too terrified to move. He’ll just glare at them before slowly walking over to you. Tobio will give you a minute and will often try to hide you from the crowd that is undoubtedly staring at you. If your other friends are there, they'll hide you from view until you’re calm enough to where Tobio can take you away.

“Are you ok? It’s ok, take a deep breath. No one will ever do that to you again… I swear.”

➺ Kei Tsukishima

If you’re dating Tsukishima, you’ve gotta be tough on SOME LEVEL. There’s no way you can’t handle him but got close enough to start dating him. Then again… he doesn’t mind a cute, soft, shy partner. That just means he’ll need to be your shield more often than not. And let’s be honest, he likes protecting you. Tsuki’s not big on PDA. Like Kageyama, the entire world doesn’t need to know your business. So people can think you’re single. And you, lil pretty thang, you attract people.

You try to stick next to your boyfriend when you’re out in a public place or somewhere with lots of people. But if he does leave for a minute or you do, people will swoop in. Tsuki knows IMMEDIATELY. He just does, he’s psychic like that. He’ll see if you need help and if you do, he’ll come stand by. Tsuki’s height alone is enough to deter people, but of course, he’s pretty lanky (like… where’s the muscle?). So, most people wouldn’t be too deterred. 5/10.

See, Tsuki gets it, you’re hot. Of course people wanna flirt with you but they should learn to take a hint. Especially when you tell them you’re not interested. They usually kinda just ignore him or push him out of the way or even try to take you away. Like hell Tsuki’s gonna let that happen. Bitch please. Anyone who underestimates Tsuki is in for a treat. He can and will destroy someone’s self esteem through words. Who needs to fight? Not him. He will roast tf outta some until they’re no longer confident in themselves.

That’s the good thing about Tsuki, he doesn’t need muscle to chase people off. He’s not that weak either though, so worse comes to worse, he can defend you. But worry not, there’s no need for violence with that mouth of his. There is ONE more thing Tsuki will do that will ALWAYS get rid of people. He does this rarely because it scares you a little, but it's effective.

Tsuki will come up to you and then… he’ll punch the wall above your head and glared down at the person. No one stays after that! So 10/10! Would recommend. After that, Tsuki sighs and lets his hand fall on your head, breaking you out of your trance.

“Your face looks weird. Come on, it’s fine now. Let’s go somewhere else though.”

➺ Tadashi Yamaguchi

Oh boy… 

He HATES confrontation, but for you, he’ll step right in. Usually, Tadashi likes to get in between you and the offender. He’ll try to tell them to stop bothering you. He really crosses his fingers and hopes it’ll work.

2/10, sadly, he’s just too cute to be scary. So, usually, people just brush past him or even shove him away. This kinda does put a damper on his mood. He wishes every single time he was as scary as Tsukishima (who wouldn’t want to be?) so he could scare people off. When you see that though… ooh.

This usually causes you to get VERY upset! You don’t like it when people treat Tadashi like crap so you become quite aggressive. That works BUT sometimes you’ll get those creeps that like “feisty” people. So they’ll often just pin you to a wall. This usually sparks something in Tadashi. He just… loses it. Sorry, Tsukishima who?

Since their backs are turned to him, he’ll just come up behind them, grab their hair and pull so hard they fall to the ground. If they’re bald then he’ll do the same but with their shirt. You’ll take your chance to hide behind Tadashi, who’s just death glaring at the person on the floor.

69/10! Works EVERY SINGLE TIME! Tadashi doesn’t understand it, where the hell did that come from?! But it’s very effective because the person is always gone. He just hopes no one stands up to fight him because he’ll 100% lose. He’ll realize that he might’ve been really scary and slowly turns around to face you.

“A-are you ok? I-I’m sorry if I scared you.”

➺ Ryunosuke Tanaka

Everyone and their grandmothers have to know you two are together! He’s usually all over you but you don’t hate it. It’s nice when you’re in a place with creeps around. But sometimes one of the creeps doesn’t see him or does see him but doesn’t care. They’ll saunter over to you and just shamelessly start flirting.

He’ll join them! Literally. He’ll swing his arm around the person and just lean in and start complimenting you. “You’re right, they’re hot! Hey baby! You here by yourself?” It’s odd, but you always feel better when he’s nearby in situations like this.

Usually, the person gets weirded out. They don’t know Tanaka (unless they saw him) and so they’ll either claim you’re theirs or just ask Tanaka what he’s doing. Usually, it works. If they recognize him, they’ll just quickly leave but sometimes they don’t. They’ll shove him off and try to regain your attention.

Tanaka takes it as a compliment. He’s not one to just start getting aggressively possessive. No. You’re HOT. DROP DEAD GORGEOUS! He takes it as a compliment when people flirt with you BUT to an extent. If they make you uncomfortable he goes nuts. Yeah, you’re ridiculously attractive but that doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings.

His next method is usually shoving them back. He’ll make it clear that you’re his partner and you’re not comfortable. Sometimes this makes people go away but there’s always one. For that, Tanaka just punches them. It only takes one. They’re either knocked out or just too scared to stay.

10/10. Unconscious or gone. He’ll smirk proudly, then hug you immediately. If you’re super scared or just really anxious, he’ll take a second before touching you. He prefers to reassure first before getting too into your space.

“It’s ok, they’re gone. Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

➺ Yu Nishinoya

He’s kind of like Tanaka. He loves to show off his gorgeous partner. Everyone has to know cuz he brags about you ALL THE TIME. Kiyoko who?

Like I said, he’s like Tanaka. He’ll join whoever’s flirting with you. “Hey sexy! Wanna get outta here?” This prompts the person to ask who tf he is. “Huh? Oh! I’m just flirting with my partner. They’re hot, right? I know.” 

3/10. That, unsurprisingly, fails. Why wouldn’t it? Unlike Tanaka… Nishinoya’s just kinda… cute. He’s not very intimidating. People just shove him away and turn their attention back to you.

Nishinoya’s really in tune with your emotions. Like… it’s kinda weird how well he knows you. He can just feel the second you panic. That really pisses him off. He even scares you sometimes.

He’ll usually grab the person’s arm and tug them back, silently with just fury in his eyes. “Don’t. Touch. Them.” This bumps the effectiveness to 8/10. People get scared and leave but there’s always one. Noya’s already in aggressive mode, so it’s not too difficult to handle this person. He’ll kick their knee. Hard. If it breaks, oh well. 10/10. They’re gone. Either taken away by friends or something, but they won’t ever bother you again. At this point, Noya takes your hand and leads you away.

“Sorry if I scared you, but we should leave. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Some people are just disgusting.”

➺ Asahi Azumane

He doesn't show you off like Tanaka or Noya, but he usually has his arm around you. This proves to everyone you're his, right? Well some people just don’t care. 

If he sees you getting uncomfy, he'll be by your side in a second!! He usually starts off by putting distance between you and the offender. 5/10; Asahi’s pretty intimidating looking, so 50% of the time, people get scared off. But there are some who don’t…

He’s not a fighter. He won’t just resort to kicking ass, so he’ll try to explain that you’re uncomfy. That kinda shows people he’s intimidating on the outside but soft on the inside, so they push him out of the way. That’s when you’ll scream for Asahi to help.

It’s on purpose, actually. Because it kinda sparks something in him. He just… changes. He doesn’t like it when you’re uncomfortable and he hates it when you’re scared. So, he’ll grab the person’s shoulder with a death grip. With one rough shove backwards and away from you usually does the trick. If it doesn’t… we’ll he’s pretty strong and he’s a big guy.

then people realize… yeah no, he’s just as scary on the inside. 10/10 they’re GONE.

“Hey are you ok? I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. Do you wanna go home? We can just watch movies and cuddle.”

➺ Koshi Sugawara

Koshi is attached to you at the hip. He’s always with you and your friends know you’re dating. But he’s not really one for super, crazy PDA. I mean, he doesn’t have an issue with it, he often just finds himself standing next to you. Not touching you. This kinda leads most people to think you’re just friends.

Koshi kinda lets you handle it, but if you’re starting to get really uncomfortable, just look at him. He’ll stand beside you and just ask what’s going on. To which most people tell him to “get lost”. He’ll just smile and explain that you’re not very comfortable and they should leave you alone. 

0/10. It’s never worked and it never will. They usually sigh, roll their eyes, grab your hand and try to tug you away from Koshi.

Usually, that’s what sends Koshi into like… defensive, scary Koshi. Flirting is one thing, being pushy is one thing, but forcefully taking you away…

The second someone pulls you away, he’ll grab their wrist with such a strong grip, it causes bruising. That causes the person to let go and you immediately run and hide behind Koshi.

69/10! The air around Koshi is just suffocating, he’s horrifically intimidating, and with just one look people go rigid. No one bothers him or you if you're still at the establishment. Chances are you’ll leave though.

“Sorry if I scared you, darling. Are you ok? Come on, let’s get you home.”

➺ Daichi Sawamura

Daichi’s kinda like Suga. He’s usually seen with his arm around your shoulders or you attached to his arm. Again, he’s not against PDA- he’ll kiss you in public, no problem- but does he need to? If not, there’s no reason. So again, people have a hard time telling you’re together.

Because of that, he doesn’t become aggressive when someone flirts with you. Maybe they didn’t know and they DID build up the courage to talk to you. So, he’ll just stand beside you and kindly explain you’re taken and you don’t appreciate the flirting.

It’s rare that this works out. Some people will genuinely apologize and leave, which is great. But the chances of that are like 2%. 98% of people scoff and just brush him off, turning back to you and explaining they’d be a better option.

Oh boy. Daichi does NOT appreciate that. He’s caring and sweet and often doesn’t seem like a scary guy BUT HE CAN BE. This lil “scary Daichi” thing depends on you. If you’re ok, just talk to the person, but if they’re really giving you anxiety just ask him for help. There’s just a way his name comes out of your mouth when you’re scared that irks him. He hates it when you’re so scared and vulnerable. So, scary Daichi is the result!

So, the next step is Daichi grabbing the person by the collar and glaring at them. “Maybe I’ll need to beat the respect into you which I really don’t mind doing.” Daichi is NOT bluffing. Anyone who dares challenge him WILL get their ass beat. He doesn’t negotiate when it comes to your safety/comfort.

10/10 NO ONE WANTS AN ANGRY DAICHI! 100% of people who go up against an angry Daichi run off with their tail between their legs. He’s just so goddamn scary. But he understands he can scare you too, so he’ll immediately get that under control. He’ll slowly approach you and try to touch you. Once you hug him, he’ll know everything’s ok.

“Let’s leave. I’ll buy you some ice cream on the way home, that sound good?”