#And yet he still asks him to fix things. He still lets him go when Layton would have understood if it wasn't possible

[dissapointu]

Could you please write arcane characters with crybaby S/O?? If you want, of course! Whatever, thank you, I love your works 💗💗

I’m so glad you enjoy my work! Arcane characters and their crybaby s/o,:

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Jinx

Jinx’s first instinct is to panic when she sees you crying. Her eyes widen, and her brain short circuits a bit as she scrambles to figure out what’s wrong.

“Oh no! Did I break something? Was it my bombs again?!” She pulls you into her arms and starts rattling off a series of wild suggestions to make you smile. “Maybe some candy? Or I could build you a new toy—no, wait, I’ll make a whole new everything!”

When she finally calms down enough to hold you and see the tears are simply from emotion, she softens, giving you a tight hug and whispering, “Don’t cry, okay? I can’t handle it.” She might still end up doing something completely ridiculous to cheer you up, but she loves you so much and hates seeing you sad.

Vi

Vi’s reaction to you crying is immediately protective. She’s quick to scoop you up in her strong arms, cradling you against her chest like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“Hey, hey… you’re okay,” she murmurs softly, gently stroking your hair. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

She’s not great with words when it comes to comforting, but her touch speaks volumes. She’ll just hold you close, letting you cry it out in her arms, her jaw tight and eyes soft as she assures you, “You’re the toughest person I know, don’t forget that.” She’d never let anything hurt you.

Sevika

Sevika is a lot tougher on the outside but crumbles when you’re upset. When she sees you crying, it’s like a switch flips, and all her usual hardness melts.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, her voice surprisingly soft, but her posture tense as if she’s trying to hold it together. She gently wipes away your tears with her thumb.

Sevika doesn’t quite know how to comfort in a traditional sense, so she might pull you into her lap, leaning against the wall as she lets you cry it out. “You’re tough, you don’t need to cry, alright?” But there’s a softness in her tone, a vulnerability she doesn’t often show to anyone but you.

Silco

Silco is stern, but when he sees you crying, a strange protectiveness takes over him. He’s never really been great at comforting anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s incredibly tender.

“Enough of this,” he says, voice low and commanding, yet his actions are the opposite. He gently pulls you into his arms, running a hand through your hair, his grip surprisingly delicate.

“You’re the last person I ever wanted to see in tears,” he mutters, his voice rough. He may not have the right words, but the way he holds you speaks volumes. “Don’t waste your tears. I’ll handle whatever is making you sad.” He’ll find a way to fix it—because you mean that much to him.

Vander

Vander’s heart aches whenever you cry. The moment you start, he’s immediately by your side, pulling you into his massive arms with an almost fatherly tenderness.

“There, there,” he murmurs, rocking you gently as he lets you cry it out. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me, sweetheart.”

His voice is soothing and steady, like a calm in the storm. He doesn’t ask questions right away; he just holds you, rubbing your back and whispering, “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Vander’s the type to offer warmth and security, his hands gentle on your back as he helps you through whatever’s troubling you.

Ekko

Ekko’s heart drops when he sees you upset, especially when it’s tears. He immediately drops everything, running over to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asks, his voice full of concern. His hands are all over you—touching your arms, face, shoulders—as if making sure you’re real, that you’re okay.

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything, right?” he says, trying to reassure you. Ekko’s never good with seeing you cry, and he’ll do anything to stop it. He might even go a little overboard with distractions—making you laugh, telling you a silly story, or offering to make you something special—because the last thing he wants is for you to feel sad for long.

Jayce

Jayce is the type to immediately feel overwhelmed when you cry, unsure of what to do at first. He’s a man of action, and seeing you upset makes him want to fix everything.

“Sweetheart, please, tell me what’s wrong. I can help, I swear,” he pleads, his voice urgent yet gentle as he pulls you into his arms.

Jayce is the kind to try and solve whatever’s troubling you, whether it’s with words or some grand gesture. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it together,” he promises, brushing your hair out of your face.

He might even work himself into a frenzy, trying to make everything perfect just so you’ll stop crying, but ultimately, his soft embrace and the way he looks at you with concern will make you feel safe again.

Viktor

Viktor is a mix of confusion and worry when he sees you in tears. He’s so used to dealing with problems with logic and technology that when it comes to comforting you, it’s like stepping into uncharted territory.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, his voice soft and a little uncertain. “This isn’t like you.”

Viktor doesn’t understand all of your emotions, but what he does understand is that you’re important to him. He’ll sit beside you, reaching out to hold your hand, carefully avoiding overwhelming you with words.

He’s more likely to offer you quiet, thoughtful gestures—making you tea, working on something together—anything to make you feel better.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is a little flustered when she sees you cry, especially if it’s about something that’s beyond her control. She’s so used to solving problems in a structured way, but she wants to do everything to help you feel better.

“Darling, what happened?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with concern as she wipes your tears away.

She’s very gentle with you, rubbing your back or combing through your hair, and she’ll do anything to get you to stop crying. Caitlyn might get a little frustrated with herself if she can’t figure out the cause, but she’ll keep reassuring you with sweet words and actions: “You’re safe with me, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Mel Medarda

Mel’s reaction to you crying is calm, yet deeply caring. She’s not overly sentimental, but she’s not cold either. She’s incredibly composed, and she’ll use her sharp intellect to try and get you to open up about what’s troubling you.

“Tell me, my dear,” she says softly, her voice full of warmth. “What’s weighing on your heart?”

Mel will sit down with you, her hands resting on yours as she listens carefully, offering advice only if she thinks it’s needed. She doesn’t want to push you, but she’ll always make sure you know you’re not alone, and that you have her support, no matter what.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa’s reactions are subtle, but her presence is commanding. She doesn’t like seeing you cry, and while she may not be the most emotionally open, she’ll show you affection in her own way.

“Don’t cry,” she says with quiet authority, pulling you into her arms. “Tears are for weakness.”

But her actions are softer than her words. She’ll stroke your back gently, offering you silence as she lets you cry it out, and then, once you calm down, she’ll make sure you’re taken care of, ready to shield you from whatever caused the pain.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie’s heart breaks the moment she sees your tears. She’s quick to offer comfort, wrapping you in a tight hug, kissing your forehead, and telling you everything will be okay.

“You’re everything to me,” she whispers, her voice low and soothing. “Please don’t cry.”

She might be a little overwhelmed by how much she cares for you, but she does everything she can to help you calm down. Maddie will talk with you for hours if she has to, just to make sure you know you’re not alone, and that she’s there for you.

Lest

Lest’s heart always skips a beat when she sees you upset. She’s very protective of you, and she’s quick to wrap you up in a soft embrace, not quite knowing what to do but instinctively wanting to shield you from anything causing you pain.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says softly, her hands gentle as she holds you close. “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

She doesn’t rush you to stop crying, letting you take your time. She’s patient, and she’ll listen quietly, never pushing you for answers, just offering her warmth and comfort.

[screaminglygay]

Hop on.

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: when your brother’s bike breaks down, you turn to natasha´s shop for help, what starts as a simple repair leads to a whirlwind of teasing banter. sometimes, fixing a bike can lead to mending more than just machinery.

warnings: bike accident, but nothing horrible, then just FLUFF!!, mild teasing, brother being an ass hehe

word count: 8.9k

an: i wrote this a while ago, but i still really like this one a lot, so i hope you´ll do too:) also yes, i don´t know anything about bikes:D

"What can I help you with?" The receptionist asks, but noticing you´re worried look right away.

"Um… my brother, he- had an accident," you mumble out to her.

"Can you tell me your name, miss?" She looks down at her computer.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," you show her your ID.

The lady gives you the ID back, makes a few clicks and looks back at you, "he is in the room number seven."

You basically sprint there, slamming the door open, thankfully your brother was the only person in there. But the sight of him made you confused, he was sitting on the bed, smiling as usual, just few bruises on his face and a bandage oh his leg.

"Hey, sis," he makes the peace sign, while your heartbeat is going milions per seconds.

"Hey, sis?! Hey, sis?! What the hell?!" You walk up to him and smack him.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He scratches his head.

"What was- are you kidding me?" You pull out your phone, "25 minutes ago, I got this message from your friend: 'hey, don´t freak out, but your brother is going to the hospital, bike accident.' I rush here, committing like thirty-seven crimes…and you´re here smiling and saying 'hey, sis?!'"

"Oh… Kevin´s idiot," he shakes his head.

"No, you are! What the hell happened?!" You move your hands around.

"Can you just chill for a second? Jeez." He stratches, "We were riding, normally, but then one of the cars cut me off and I slipped. I´m fine, but bike was pretty fucked up." As he tells you the story of what´ve happened, you scan his face, obivously you´re glad he is okay, but deep down you´re angry that he still rides that thing.

"Are you sure you´re okay? You look down on his leg.

"Yeah, nothing that didn´t happened before. But uh… I need ride back home." He shifts in his position, even when he tries to mask it, he is still in some visible pain.

"I figured. Stay here, I´ll get someone…"

After two hours he is finally let out of the hospital, you help him into the passenger seat, careful not to jar his injured leg. As you close the door, you mutter, “I swear, one day that bike is going to be the death of you.”

He rolls his eyes as you start the car. “You worry too much. It’s not like I haven’t crashed before.”

“Yeah, and you’re still riding that death trap.” You grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary. “Why do you even keep that thing? It’s not like you can ride it anytime soon.”

He winces as he shifts in his seat, not meeting your gaze. “I just… I need it fixed, okay? I’ll be careful next time. Can you help me with that… pleaseee?

You let out a sigh. “You’re lucky you didn’t end up worse. Fine, I’ll take care of it, but you’re not driving that bike again until I’m sure it won’t fall apart under you.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he says, softer than before, like he knows you mean well even when you’re pissed. He’s quiet for a moment, then adds, “You know, there’s a mechanic not far from here, Red Guardian.”

You nod, making a mental note. “I’ll check it out. But you, mister, are on bed rest.”

"Aren´t you three years younger than me?"

You glance at him, "and yet I´m the smarter one, so bed it is."

“Whatever you say, mom.”

...

Two days later you finally arrive at Red Guardin, a place that looks far more organized than you expected for a bike shop. The sign is simple, but the place has a charm, just like you’d heard. You park your car and walk inside, the smell of oil and metal hitting you as you step through the door.

A woman with fiery red braided hair is leaning over a motorcycle, hands deep in the engine. She doesn’t look up as she says, “Be with you in a sec.”

You clear your throat, trying not to be too obvious as you check her out. “Uh, take your time.”

She straightens up, wiping her hands on a rag before turning to face you. Her green eyes meet yours, and she gives you a small, confident smirk. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here about my brother’s bike,” you start, but she cuts you off.

“Your brother? The guy who got cut off and ended up in the hospital?” She chuckles lightly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I heard about him. Of what I´ve heard that bike’s a mess, but there is nothing I can´t fix.”

You blink, a little taken aback. “You already know about it?”

“Word travels fast in this town,” Natasha replies, that teasing smile still on her lips. “Plus, your brother’s been in here before. He’s not exactly subtle.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course. He didn’t tell me that part.”

“So, where’s the patient?” Natasha smiles as she takes some gloves.

You fumble with your words for a moment, feeling a little awkward. “Uh, it’s in my car. Or, well, in the truck bed."

You lead her outside to where you´re parked. Natasha walks around it, examining the damage with a critical eye. She’s quiet for a moment, then looks over at you. “Well, the frame’s a little bent, and the engine’s definitely seen better days. But it’s not totaled. I can fix this.”

You nod, relieved. “Thank God. I had no idea what to do. I mean, I know a bike has wheels, an engine, and all that, but that’s where my knowledge ends.”

Natasha gives you a teasing smile. “Good thing you came to the right place. I’ll need to take it inside and get a closer look. Mind helping me unload it?”

You quickly agree, and the two of you start unstrapping the bike. Natasha shows you where to hold it and how to carefully lower it down. As you work together, she starts explaining what she’s looking for.

“See this here?” she says, pointing to a section of the frame. “It’s bent, but not too badly. I’ll have to realign it, though. And this,” she taps the engine, “will need a rebuild. Your brother’s lucky it didn’t crack.”

You listen intently, trying to follow along even though most of what she’s saying goes over your head. Natasha notices your blank expression and laughs softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. By the time I’m done, it’ll be good as new.”

You can’t help but smile at how confident she is. “Thanks," you look down for a name tag, but there isn´t one,

"It´s Natasha," she smiles.

You nod, "Natasha, I really appreciate it. My brother would lose his mind if he thought he couldn’t ride again.”

She gives you a quick wink. “No problem. I’m used to fixing things, especially when they mean a lot to someone.”

There’s a warmth in her voice that makes your heart skip a beat. You swallow nervously, trying to focus on the bike and not the way Natasha is looking at you with that confident, playful smirk.

You´re glad that you found the right place.

…

As you pull up to your house, the sun already dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard. As you step inside, your brother is lounging on the couch, leg propped up on a stack of pillows, flipping through channels on the TV. He looks up as you walk in, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“Well?” he asks, cutting straight to the point. “Is it fixable? Am I ever going to ride again?”

You set your bag down and kick off your shoes, feeling the day’s tension start to melt away. “Natasha said it’s fixable, but it’ll take some time. The frame’s bent, and the engine needs a rebuild. But she’s confident she can get it back in shape.” You repeat what she told you earlier.

He visibly relaxes, “Natasha is fixing it? Good. I was worried it’d be a total loss."

“Yeah, well, you got lucky,” you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the doorway. “You’re not exactly gentle on that thing.”

He scoffs. “It’s a bike, not a porcelain doll. It’s meant to be ridden hard.”

You roll your eyes. “And that’s why you’re here, with a busted leg, instead of out riding. You should really be more careful.”

He shoots you a teasing grin. “You sound like mom agan.”

“Someone has to, since you clearly don’t listen at all.”

He chuckles, then winces as he adjusts his leg. “Okay, okay, point taken. But when it will be ready?”

Your expression softening. “Natasha said she’ll have it back to you in no time. She knows what she’s doing. It’ll be like new—maybe even better.”

He sighs, relief washing over his features. “Great-" you cut him off.

"You´ll take it easy when you get back on the road. No more stunts, no more pushing your luck. You got off easy this time, but next time you might not be so lucky.”

He rolls his eyes but nods. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful.”

“I mean it!” you say, your tone firm but caring. “I don’t want to get another call like that.”

His teasing expression fades, and he nods more seriously. “I know. I’ll be careful. Promise.”

You give him a small smile, reaching over to mess up his hair. “Good. Now, get some rest."

"I will, but can you promise you will check on the bike, when you can?" He gives you the best innocent look he possibly can.

"I will check it out tomorrow after work." You nod.

“Thanks, sis. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you reply, “and don’t forget it.”

As you walk away, you hear him mutter, “I won’t!”

…

The next day, you find yourself back at the shop, unable to shake the feeling of curiosity or maybe it’s something else entirely, that pulls you there. The familiar scent of motor oil and metal greets you as you step inside. Natasha is already hard at work, leaning over a bike with her back to you, her hands moving expertly as she adjusts something under the engine. You can´t help, but stare. Her toned hands are someting you can definetly look at forever.

She glances up as you approach, a smirk playing on her lips when she sees you basically drooling. “Back again? You know, most people don’t check in this often. Are you here to make sure I’m actually working?”

You snap back out of your thoughts, shaking your head. “No, nothing like that. My brother’s just obsessed with that bike. He’s convinced it needs constant check-ups or it’ll fall apart. Honestly, he probably cares about it more than is healthy.”

Natasha straightens up, wiping her hands on a rag as she walks over to you, a teasing glint in her eye. “Sounds like a lot of work, keeping up with all those concerns. You know, I could make it easier for you…”

“Oh?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “And how exactly would you do that?”

She leans casually against the counter, that familiar smirk tugging at her lips. “I could give you my number. That way, you can check in on the bike whenever you or your brother want. Get updates straight from the source.”

You laugh, feeling a little flustered by how smooth she is. “Right, for the bike.”

“Of course, for the bike,” Natasha says, her voice dripping with playful innocence, though the mischievous sparkle in her eyes tells you she’s enjoying this. She pulls her phone from her pocket, handing it to you. “Here, you can add your number.”

You take her phone, typing in your contact details, and then you pause. Instead of handing it back, you grin and ring yourself right away.

Natasha chuckles, clearly impressed. She takes her phone back and glances at the screen. Her expression shifts into one of amused surprise when she sees what you’ve entered. “Finally, I get to know your name. Pleasure to meet you officially, (Y/N).”

You feel your cheeks warm slightly as she says your name, her voice low and smooth.

She grins, leaning in just a bit closer, her voice dropping to a softer tone. “Well, I like to take my time with the important things. So tell you brother it will take some time, just to make sure his bike is ready for his awful riding."

You swallow, trying not to get too flustered under her gaze. “I´ll tell him that." You nod.

With one last shared look, you turn to leave, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. As you step out of the shop, your phone buzzes. You glance down to see a new text from Natasha: “Just in case you need another excuse to visit. See you soon, (Y/N).”

You can’t help but smile as you tuck your phone back into your pocket, already looking forward to the next visit.

...

Over the next few days, you find yourself returning to the shop more often than you’d care to admit. At first, it’s just to check on the bike, of course, but then you don´t even care to hide, that there is one more, bigger reason to come into the shop.

One afternoon, she catches you watching her as she tightens a bolt on the engine. “You know, you’re here enough that I should put you to work.”

You laugh. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

She gives you her usual smirk. “I could show you. How about a crash course in motorcycle basics?” Before you can protest, she’s grabbing a helmet off the wall and tossing it to you. “Here, put this on.”

“Wait, what? I don’t even know how to ride.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “I’ll take care of you.”

"I- won´t this get you into a trouble?" You frown a bit.

"My dad owns the shop, I think I´ll be fine." You feel your cheeks heat up as you put on the helmet. Natasha swings a leg over the bike, patting the seat behind her. “Hop on.”

You hesitate for just a moment before climbing on, wrapping your arms around her waist. She revs the engine, the sound vibrating through you as she takes off, the wind whipping past your face. She’s almost intoxicating at everything she does.

When she finally stops back in the parking lot next to the shop, your heart is racing for more reasons than one. Natasha turns to look at you over her shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not bad for a first ride, huh?”

You can’t help but smile. “Not bad at all.”

Natasha swings her leg over the bike, smoothly dismounting and turning to face you. Ugh the stupid smirk on her pretty face. “You handled yourself pretty well back there. I think you’ve got some natural talent.” She helps you take off the helmet.

You laugh, still feeling the rush of the wind and the hum of the engine. “I was just trying not to fall off. But I’ll take the compliment.”

She steps closer, close enough that you can feel her parfume mixed with oil from the repairs. “You know, riding isn’t just about holding on. It’s about trust. Trusting the bike, trusting yourself… and maybe trusting the person in front of you.”

Your breath catches slightly at her words, and you realize she’s no longer just talking about riding. You meet her eyes, and there’s a tension between you, a pull that’s hard to ignore. “I guess I did trust you back there.”

Natasha’s smirk widens, and she tilts her head, studying you with a gaze that feels like it’s seeing right through you. “Good. I like that.”

You try to steady your breathing, but it’s difficult with her standing so close. “Do you do this with all your clients?”

She chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “I don’t take just anyone for a ride, (Y/N). Consider yourself special.”

The way she says your name makes your heart skip a beat. There’s a moment of a silence between you, making you aware of how close she is, how her eyes seem to linger on yours, searching for something.

Natasha’s gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and your breath hitches. “You know,” she says softly, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “there’s a lot more I could show you. If you’re interested.”

Your pulse quickens, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through you. The air between you feels charged, every second stretching out as you weigh her words. You know she’s definetly not just talking about bikes anymore, and the realization sends a thrill through you.

“I think I’m interested,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha’s smile deepens, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Good.” She steps even closer, her presence almost overwhelming now. “Because I don’t do half-measures, (Y/N). If you’re in, you’re all in.”

You feel a nervous flutter in your stomach, but it’s not enough to hold you back. “I think I can handle that.”

Her eyes darken slightly, her voice taking on a more serious note. “Are you sure? Because once we start, I don’t plan on stopping.”

The intensity of her words makes your heart race, but you don’t back down. Instead, you meet her gaze head-on, the challenge in her eyes only spurring you on. “I’m sure, Natasha.”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves, the tension between you almost unbearable. Then, as if making a decision, Natasha leans in, her hand brushing lightly against your arm. The touch is brief but electric, sending a jolt through you.

“Glad to hear it,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin

Before you can respond, Natasha finally pulls back, though the look in her eyes tells you that this is far from over. She glances at the bike, then back at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You should head home. I wouldn’t want to keep you out too late… this time.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding. “Right. I should… probably get going.”

“Probably,” she agrees, though there’s a teasing edge to her voice that makes it clear she wouldn’t mind if you stayed longer.

As you walk back to your car, Natasha watches you with that same unreadable expression, like she’s already planning the next move. You reach your car door, pausing to glance back at her. “So… I’ll come check on the bike tomorrow same time?”

Natasha crosses her arms, leaning against the doorframe of the shop, her smile turning into something almost predatory. “I´m counting on it, (Y/N).”

You give her a small smile in return, feeling that same mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside you. As you start the car and pull away, you can’t help but glance at her going inside the shop once more.

The cool night air feels refreshing on your flushed cheeks as you step out of the car going back home, the smile on your face almost impossible to hide. As you approach the front door, you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. But the excitement from the evening is still buzzing inside you, making it hard to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

When you walk inside, your brother is sprawled out on the couch again, a half-empty bag of chips beside him and a game paused on the TV. He looks up as you close the door behind you, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “You’re home late,” he remarks, his voice dripping with curiosity. “What’s got you all smiley?”

You pause, trying to wipe the grin off your face, but it’s no use. “Oh, nothing,” you say, attempting nonchalance as you shrug out of your jacket and hang it up. “Just, you know… checking on your bike.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your casual tone. “Uh-huh. And since when does checking on my bike make you look like you just won the lottery?”

You shoot him a look, but it’s playful, and he knows it. “Since today, apparently.”

He narrows his eyes at you, sitting up a bit straighter. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

You hesitate for a moment, debating how much to tell him. But then you decide it’s harmless enough. “Well… I rode it, you know a test ride I assume.”

He blinks, clearly not expecting that. “Wait, what? You rode my bike? The same bike you’ve always refused to even sit on?”

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. Natasha let me try it out.”

His expression shifts, realization dawning as a smirk spreads across his face. “Natasha, huh? So, you finally decided to take the plunge… because she asked?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the blush that creeps up your neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, sure it’s not,” he says, leaning back with a smug grin. “You always said no to me, no matter how many times I tried to get you on that bike. But one pretty redhead asks, and suddenly you’re Evel Knievel.”

You try to play it cool, but you can’t help the smile that slips out. “Well, she made a good case. And besides, you know how scared I am.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, so scared until Natasha Romanoff turns on the charm. I see how it is.”

You grab a throw pillow and toss it at him, but he catches it easily, still grinning. “Shut up.”

He throws the pillow back, missing you by an inch. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just saying, I knew something was up when you walked in all smiley. I didn’t expect it to be this, though.”

You shake your head, trying to suppress your own laughter. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yep,” he says proudly, then adds with a wink, “So, when’s the next ‘check-up’ on my bike?”

You roll your eyes again, but you can’t help the small smile that lingers on your lips. “Goodnight, dork,” you say, turning to head toward your room.

“Goodnight, bike thief,” he calls after you, his voice filled with playful teasing.

As you close your bedroom door behind you, you lean against it for a moment, your smile growing even wider. Just as you’re about to lay in bed and snuggle with your blanket, your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a notification.

You reach over and grab it, your heart skipping a beat when you see who the message is from.

Natasha: Hope you didn’t get into trouble for coming home so late. Wouldn’t want to get you grounded ;)

You can’t help but smile at the playful tone in her text.

You quickly type out a reply: No, just had to endure a bit of teasing. My brother thinks he’s hilarious.

You hit send, still smiling as you stare at your phone, waiting to see if she’ll reply. It doesn’t take long before your phone buzzes again.

Natasha: Sounds like he’s got a good sense of humor. He’s probably just jealous you rode his bike.

Your smile widens as you think about her words, and the memory of the ride flashes in your mind. The wind, the speed, the way Natasha’s laughter had echoed in the air, it had been more fun than you ever expected. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you type your response.

You type out: Maybe. But I think it was more because of the company than the ride.

There’s a pause, and for a moment, you wonder if you were too forward. But then your phone buzzes again, and Natasha’s reply makes your heart flutter.

Natasha: I was hoping you’d say that. Maybe next time, we can make the ride even more interesting.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your giddy excitement in check. There’s something intoxicating about the way she flirts, the way she effortlessly mixes teasing with sincerity. You decide to match her energy, your fingers dancing across the screen as you craft your response.

You: I’m all for interesting;)

A few seconds pass before her next message arrives.

Natasha: Challenge accepted, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.

You grin at the screen, feeling a warm, fuzzy sensation spread through your chest.

You: Goodnight, Natasha.

You set your phone down and curl up under the covers, still smiling as you think about her last text. The excitement from the evening lingers as you drift off to sleep. Whatever happens next, you’re ready for it.

…

A couple of days have passed since you lastly check up on the bike, some work got stuck up and you weren´t able to see Natasha as much as you´d like. Thanfuly the texting between you and Natasha has only gotten more frequent, filled with light-hearted banter, playful teasing, and the occasional flirty remark.

Then, one evening, just as you’re settling down after dinner, your phone buzzes with a new message. You pick it up, your heart doing that now familiar little flip when you see Natasha’s name on the screen.

Natasha: So, I was thinking… how about we do something that doesn’t involve bikes this weekend?

You blink at the screen, your pulse quickening. It’s not exactly a date invitation, but it’s close enough that your mind immediately starts racing.

You: What do you have in mind?

Her reply comes almost instantly.

Natasha: I know a nice spot for dinner. How does Friday sound?

Your stomach flips with excitement. This is definitely a date. You type back before you can overthink it.

You: Friday sounds perfect.

Natasha: Great. I’ll pick you up at 7.

You stare at the screen, a grin spreading across your face. A date. With Natasha. Suddenly, Friday can’t come fast enough.

…

When Friday finally arrives, you’re a bundle of nerves and excitement. By late afternoon, you’re standing in front of your closet, pulling out outfits and discarding them almost as quickly. Nothing seems right - too casual, too dressy, not “you” enough. You groan in frustration, tossing yet another dress onto the bed.

“Uh… what’s going on in here?” your brother’s voice cuts through your frantic search, and you turn to see him leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"Shouldn´t you be in bed?" You look at his leg.

He shakes his head, "what´s all of this?" Your brother nods towards the mess in your room.

“Nothing,” you mutter, but your flushed cheeks and the mess of clothes around you betray the truth.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he says, hopping into the room and picking up a discarded top. “Who are you getting all dressed up for?”

You hesitate, then sigh, realizing there’s no use hiding it. “Natasha invited me to dinner. She’s picking me up in an hour.”

His eyes widen in surprise, then narrow as a grin spreads across his face. “Natasha? Oooo (Y/N) has a date, (Y/N) has a date!"

You nod, biting your lip as you rifle through your clothes again. “Yeah. So, I need to find something that says ‘date,’ but not ‘trying too hard.’”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying this. “Wow, you must really like her if you’re this worked up.”

You huff, grabbing a simple but flattering top that you haven’t worn in a while. “Maybe I do. But it’s just… I don’t know, I want it to be perfect, you know?”

He watches you for a moment, then his teasing demeanor softens. “You’ll look great, no matter what you wear. Just be yourself, and she’ll be into it.”

You pause, then smile gratefully at him. “Thanks.”

"But don´t wear that," he points at the top you´re holding, "take the black shirt over there." He chuckles.

You roll your eyes, but to be honest you´re really glad, that you have your brother there, to ease your nerves. When you look in the mirror, you feel a little more confident. You can do this.

Right on time, there´s a buzz from your phone. You grab your purse, take a deep breath, and head downstairs. Your brother, ever the nosy one, is already at the window, peeking through the curtains. “Your ride’s here,” he says, smirking. “And I gotta say, she cleans up nice.”

You roll your eyes at him but feel your pulse quicken as you reach the door. Sure enough, when you step outside, Natasha is waiting for you, leaning casually against a car. But tonight, she’s swapped out her usual work clothes for something a little more polished - dark jeans, a fitted leather jacket over a crisp shirt, and boots that complete the look. The sight of her takes your breath away.

“Wow,” you manage to say as you walk up to her. “It’s nice to see you in something other than grease-stained coveralls.”

Natasha grins, her eyes sweeping over you appreciatively. “You look pretty well yourself. But don’t get too used to this, I’m usually more comfortable getting my hands dirty.”

You chuckle, feeling the tension ease a bit. “I like both looks.”

She steps closer, her gaze warm as it meets yours. “Good to know. Ready for dinner?”

“Definitely,” you reply nervously.

As she opens the passenger door for you, she suddenly glances over your shoulder and smirks. “Looks like we have an audience.”

You glance back to see your brother peeking out from behind the curtains, grinning like an idiot. He gives you a thumbs up, then waves cheekily at Natasha, who waves back with a teasing smile.

“Sorry about him,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up as you climb into the car. “He’s… enthusiastic.”

Natasha just laughs as she slides into the driver’s seat. “He’s alright. At least he approves.”

“Yeah, well, he’s probably just happy I’m not yelling at him for riding that bike,” you reply with a grin.

As Natasha starts the car and pulls away from the house, she glances over at you, her voice taking on a playful tone. “Guess I’ll just have to make sure this date is worth the teasing you’re going to get when you get home.”

You meet her gaze, feeling the spark between you light up again. “I’m sure it will be.”

Natasha drives you to a cozy restaurant that you’ve never been to before. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t try too hard but still manages to be effortlessly charming. She leads you to a table by the window, where the view of the city lights adds a romantic touch to the evening. After you’re both seated, Natasha gives the server a nod, clearly a regular here, and within moments, two glasses of wine are placed in front of you.

“Do you come here often?” you ask, taking a sip.

“Every now and then,” Natasha replies with a shrug. “It’s one of those hidden gems. Not too crowded, good food, great wine. Figured it’d be a good spot to… get to know each other better.”

You smile, appreciating her thoughtfulness. “It’s perfect. And I agree, it’s definitely got a vibe.”

Natasha leans back in her chair, her gaze settling on you. “So, what else should I know about you, besides the fact that you’re fiercely protective of your brother and apparently a quick learner when it comes to riding bikes?”

You laugh, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, I don’t usually make a habit of riding bikes. That was… a first for me.”

Her eyes glint with amusement. “I’m honored to be your first, then.”

You feel a blush creep up your neck but decide to match her playful tone. “What about you? I know you’re amazing with bikes, but what else is there to know about Natasha Romanoff?”

She takes a sip of her wine, her expression thoughtful. “Well, I wasn’t always a mechanic. I’ve had a few different jobs over the years, but I’ve always liked working with my hands. There’s something satisfying about taking something broken and making it whole again.”

“Did you grow up around bikes?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Sort of,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips, "my father worked on bikes since I can remeber, but I learned a lot on my own, picked up skills along the way and after some years I was kinda stuck with it in his shop."

You nod, sensing there’s more to her story than she’s letting on, but you don’t push. “I get that. I’ve never been big into them, but I can see the appeal. The way you talked about them, showed me around your shop… it made me see them differently.”

Natasha’s gaze softens, and for a moment, the teasing edge in her eyes fades. “Less scary? I’m glad I could share that with you. I don’t usually open up about that stuff with just anyone.”

You nod, feeling comfortable and curious about discovering who Natasha really is, beyond the confident, flirty exterior.

“So,” Natasha says, breaking the silence with a smirk, “I have to ask… what made you say yes to this? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but still…”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re definitely confident, I’ll give you that. But honestly? It’s because you’re… different. Not what I expected, in a good way.”

Her smirk softens into a genuine smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I was hoping I didn’t scare you off with the whole ‘let’s ride a bike together’ thing.”

“Not at all,” you say, meeting her gaze. “In fact, I think that’s what intrigued me the most. You challenge me, in a way that’s exciting. And I like that.”

Natasha holds your gaze, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. “Good,” she says quietly. “Because I like it too.”

As the evening progresses, with ordered food, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about your lives, your families, your dreams - sharing stories that are both funny and revealing. Natasha opens up about her past, hinting at the difficulties she faced growing up, while you share some of your own challenges. There’s a comfort in the way you can both be honest with each other, even if not every detail is fully revealed.

At one point, the conversation turns to your brother, and Natasha leans in, clearly curious. “So, what’s the deal with you and your brother? You two seem pretty close.”

You smile fondly. “We are. He’s a pain sometimes, but he’s my best friend. We’ve been through a lot together, and he’s always had my back.”

Natasha nods, her expression softening. “Sounds like you’ve got a good thing going. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have that kind of bond.”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m grateful for him. And it looks like he likes you, so."

Natasha grins, the playful spark returning to her eyes. 'Well, that’s a relief. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side, though I think a 50% voucher to the shop might earn me some bonus points with him.

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Don´t worry, you’re in his good books. You ride a bike and you know everything about it, plus the voucher sounds amazing. Trust me, I´m the one who is on thin line here. He’s already convinced I’ve got a crush on you anyways, so…” You talk faster than you think.

Natasha arches an eyebrow, leaning closer. “And do you?”

You hesitate, but only for a second. “Maybe I do.”

Her smile widens, a mixture of satisfaction and warmth. “I´ll take a maybe." You take another sip of wine, your heart racing in the best way possible.

Eventually, the dinner plates are cleared, and the conversation winds down. Natasha pays the bill, despite your protests, and then you’re back in the car, driving through the quiet streets. The tension that filled the air earlier has softened into something more comfortable, more familiar.

When she pulls up to your house, she turns to you with that mischievous smile that makes your pulse quicken. “So, did I live up to your expectations?”

You smile back, unbuckling your seatbelt. “More than that.”

She chuckles, clearly pleased. “Glad to hear it. I’ll see you soon?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Definitely. And I´m paying next time!”

"I don´t think you will, but it´s cute that you´re figting for it." Natasha chuckles.

Before you can overthink it, you lean in and kiss her cheek, lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of her skin. When you pull back, her eyes are sparkling, and there’s a pleased smile on her lips.

“Goodnight, Natasha,” you say softly, stepping out of the car. Even though the inside of your brain is just a big mess and your body is full of butterlfies that are buzzing through your body.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” she replies, watching every step of yours. You walk up to your front door, you glance back and see your brother peeking through the window again, grinning like a fool. You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you give him a little wave before stepping inside. As soon as you close the front door your brother is standing in the hallway, arms crossed, with a grin that can only be described as infuriatingly smug.

“So…” he starts, drawing out the word with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How was it?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool as you kick off your shoes. “How was what?”

He snorts, clearly not buying your act. “The date. You know, the one you spent an hour agonizing over an outfit for? The one with the gorgeous redhead who just dropped you off?”

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you maintain a casual tone. “It was fine. We had dinner, talked… no big deal.”

“Oh, sure,” he says, nodding along in exaggerated agreement. “No big deal at all. That’s why you’ve got that goofy smile plastered on your face.”

You try to suppress your grin, but it’s no use. “Okay, fine. It was… great. Happy?”

“Very,” he says with a smirk. “But I need details. What did you guys talk about? Did she kiss you? Are you two going on another date?”

You laugh, shaking your head at his barrage of questions. “Slow down, detective. We just had a nice dinner and got to know each other better. And yes, we’re definitely going to see each other again.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No kiss, though?”

You pause, remembering the kiss you gave Natasha on the cheek before you got out of the car. “I´m not gonna discuss that with you."

“So that´s a yes. Ha! I knew it!” He points at you triumphantly. “So you like her. Like, really like her.”

“Okay, okay, yes, I do,” you finally admit, exasperated but still smiling. “But you don’t have to make a big deal out of it.”

“Oh, but it is a big deal,” he says, leaning against the wall with a grin.

“You’ve never looked this happy after a date. I’m telling you, this Natasha is something special.”

You bite your lip, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Yeah… she really is.”

He watches you for a moment, his teasing grin softening into something more sincere. “I’m glad, you know. You deserve someone who makes you smile like that.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his unexpected seriousness. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

“Don’t get too mushy on me now,” he teases, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “Just… if she hurts you, I’ll break her bike.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I think she’d rather face anything else than that.”

“Damn right,” he says with a chuckle. “But seriously, I’m happy for you, sis. Just remember, I still expect you to help me with my bike.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, waving him off. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.”

“Sure, go dream about your redhead,” he calls after you as you head up the stairs.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you think about Natasha.

…

It’s early, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as you arrive at Natasha’s shop. The garage door is partially open, you push it up and step inside, where you find Natasha already at work on a different bike. She’s focused, her hands busy, but when she sees you, her expression brightens instantly.

“Hey, didn’t expect you so early,” she says, wiping her hands on a rag before tossing it aside as always. There’s a faint grease stain on her cheek, adding to her usual rugged charm.

You shrug, trying to appear casual despite the flutter in your chest. “I figured I’d take you up on your offer. Plus, I wanted to see how the bike’s coming along, of course.”

Natasha grins, nodding toward your brother’s bike. “Your brother’s baby is coming together nicely. A few more tweaks, and it’ll be as good as new.”

You walk over to examine the bike, but your attention keeps drifting back to Natasha. The shop is quieter than usual. As Natasha finishes up what she’s doing, you lean against the workbench, watching her with a mix of admiration and something deeper. She catches your gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

You bite your lip, then decide to be bold. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that ride we took… and how you said you don’t take just anyone out.”

She steps closer, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What about it?”

You smile, heart pounding. “I was wondering if that’s still true.”

Natasha chuckles, the sound low and warm, as she moves closer still. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were special, (Y/N). But what’s really on your mind?”

There’s a pause, a moment where you´re trying to calm your thoughts. You look up at her, realizing how close she’s standing, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of oil.

Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you say quietly, “I think you know.”

For a split second, Natasha’s confident facade wavers, replaced by something more vulnerable. But then she smirks, closing the distance between you with a deliberate slowness that sends a thrill through you. “You sure about this?” she asks softly, her voice a low murmur that makes your breath catch.

You nod, eyes locked on hers. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

And with that, Natasha leans in, her lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s gentle at first, testing the waters, but the moment your lips meet, it’s like a spark ignites. The kiss deepens, turning into something more intense, filled with all the unspoken tension and longing that’s been building between you this whole time.

Natasha lingers close, her forehead resting gently against yours, a smile playing on her lips. But then she pulls back just slightly, glancing down at her hands still resting on your waist. “I should stop before I get grease on you,” she murmurs, her voice teasing but with a hint of genuine concern.

You glance down at her hands, noticing the faint smudges of oil and grease, and can’t help but laugh softly. “A little grease never hurt anyone,” you reply, feeling warm all over, both from the kiss and from the way she’s looking at you.

Natasha chuckles, giving you a playful grin. “True, but I don’t want to mess up your clothes. You look too good for that.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, feeling a flutter in your chest at the compliment. “So do you, grease and all.”

She smiles wider, the expression softening into something tender as she gently brushes a thumb along your jaw, careful not to smudge any grease. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Is that a good thing?” you tease, leaning into her touch

“Definitely a good thing,” she replies, her voice low and warm. There’s a comfortable silence, where the weight of the moment sinks in. But Natasha, being who she is, breaks it with a playful grin. “So, does this mean I get to take you on another ride?”

You laugh, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “As long as we make some more stops like this one.”

She chuckles, pulling you in for another quick kiss, this one softer, sweeter. “Deal.”

Just as you’re savoring the warmth of the moment, the shop bell jingles, signaling the arrival of a customer. Natasha glances over her shoulder, then back at you with a smirk. “Looks like I’ve got work to do.”

Before she steps away, she gives your waist a quick, playful squeeze, leaning in close to murmur, “I’ll be with you in a second, (Y/N). Don’t go anywhere.” Her tone is teasing, but there’s an underlying softness that makes your heart flutter.

With one last lingering look, she turns to greet the customer, her demeanor shifting effortlessly into professional mode. The customer, a man who looks like he’s in his mid-40s, nods at Natasha, holding a small bike that clearly needs some work. “Morning. Got a bit of a problem with my kid’s bike here.”

“No problem,” Natasha says, flashing him that easy smile. “Let me take a look.”

As she moves to inspect the bike, you can’t help but notice how her muscles flex with every movement, her toned arms and back on full display as she lifts the bike onto the workbench. She handles the machine with practiced ease, her focus entirely on diagnosing the issue. You watch, a little mesmerized by the way she works—effortless, strong, and undeniably attractive.

It’s only when Natasha finishes up with the customer that you realize you’ve been staring the entire time. She thanks the man and sees him off, then turns back to you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Catching the look on your face, she strides over, a teasing grin spreading across her lips. “Need me to grab you a rag for that drool?” she asks, leaning against the workbench with her arms crossed, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

You feel your cheeks flush with heat, but you manage to keep your composure. “I wasn’t drooling,” you protest, though the smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

Natasha steps closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Sure you weren’t.” She reaches out to gently tap your chin with her finger, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But just in case, I’ll keep a rag handy for next time.”

You laugh, swatting her hand away lightly. "Ha ha ha, funny."

Natasha grins, clearly pleased with herself. “What can I say? I’m good at observing poeple.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face doesn’t fade. “You’re also good at being a tease.”

“Guilty as charged,” she admits, her gaze never leaving yours. There’s a moment where the teasing drops, replaced by something softer, more sincere. “But seriously, I like seeing you here.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sudden shift in her tone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice quieter now, more intimate. “Makes my day a little better.”

You frown playfully, "just a little better?"

She makes your chest tighten in the best way, "maybe a lot more than a little actually." Before you can respond, Natasha leans in, her breath warm against your cheek as she says, “You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I might have to kiss you again.”

Your breath catches, and you look up at her, eyes wide. “Is that a threat?”

“More like a promise,” she whispers back, her lips curving into a slow smile.

You feel a rush of warmth flood through you, and without thinking, you close the gap, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that’s tender, sweet. Natasha responds immediately, pulling you closer, her hands firm on your waist.

When you finally break apart, you’re both a little breathless, and Natasha’s smile is brighter than ever. “Now that’s how you shut me up,” she jokes, her voice still soft, tinged with affection.

You laugh, feeling light, like you’re floating. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to see a message from your brother: “Hey, need a hand with something. SOS!" You can’t help the small sigh that escapes you, your excitement tempered by responsibility.

Natasha notices the change in your expression and raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

You nod, a little reluctantly. “Yeah, just my brother. He needs help with something. Guess I should head out.”

She offers a soft smile, understanding but with a hint of disappointment in her eyes. “Duty calls, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say with a small laugh. “Sorry to bail on you.”

“No worries,” she replies, her voice warm and reassuring. “Family first.” Natasha gives you one last quick kiss, her hands squeezing your waist, before stepping back. “Take care of your brother. I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” you say softly, and with one last shared glance, you head out of the shop, already missing her presence.

When you get home, you find your brother lounging on the couch, his leg propped up with a couple of pillows. He grins when he sees you, clearly not in any dire situation.

“Sorry for interrupting your fun time with the redhead,” he teases, his tone light and playful, “but I really could use some help with this stupid remote.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Really? I rushed home for this?”

“Hey, don’t blame me,” he says with a chuckle, holding up his hands in mock defense. “You’re the one who insisted on being so overprotective.”

“I-” you say, grabbing the remote and throwing it at him. He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “So I assume I ruined something nice, huh? Sounds like things are getting serious with Mrs. Redhead.”

You feel a blush creep up your neck, but you just shrug. “And you ruined it.”

He laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh please, don´t tell me this is the last time you´re seeing her.”

It´s not, he knows it´s not. You do too. Everyone knows it is not.

“Now behave yourself, or I’ll leave you stranded next time.”

"Are you really just going to see her again?" He raises his eyebrows.

"No, I´m going to buy us some dinner, since you ate everything we had here!" He can´t help but chuckle a bit at your words.

…

It’s been a few days since your brother started walking without much pain, and he’s eager to visit Natasha’s shop to finally see his bike. You agree to take him, sensing that he’s also curious about the woman you’ve been spending so much time with.

When you arrive at the shop, Natasha greets you both with a warm smile. “Look who’s finally back on his feet,” she says, nodding at your brother.

“Yeah, feels good to walk again,” he replies, trying to sound casual, though you can tell he’s excited. “And to finally check on my bike.”

“Come on, I’ll show you what I did,” Natasha says, leading him to the back where the bike is stored. As they walk, you hang back slightly, watching them interact.

As they approach the bike, your brother takes in the sight of it, clearly impressed. “Wow, it looks brand new.”

Natasha grins. “Took some work, but it’s as good as ever. You’ll be back on the road in no time.”

He looks over at you for a moment, then back at Natasha, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Listen, Natasha, I like you. You seem like a good person, and it’s obvious my sister likes you too. But, I still have to do this.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, curious. “Do what?”

“The talk,” he says, crossing his arms. “If you hurt her, I will come and get you.”

There’s a brief pause as Natasha considers his words, then she glances down at his still slightly injured leg and smirks. “Sure you will,” she says with just the right amount of sarcasm.

Your brother chuckles, appreciating the banter. “Okay, fair point. But seriously, she’s my little sister. I’ve gotta look out for her.”

Natasha’s playful expression softens, and she nods. “I get it. And for what it’s worth, I care about her a lot. I’d never hurt her.”

Your brother studies her for a moment, then finally gives a nod of approval. “Good. Because I’d hate to have to hobble after you.” You laugh, stepping forward to join them. “You two done with your little standoff?”

Natasha chuckles, “I think we’ve come to an understanding.”

Your brother nods, "sooo when can I take my bike back home?"

"You can take it today if you´d like," this sentence makes you groan.

"Hell yeah!" Your brother states.

"Oh my god-" you exhale deeply.

"I´ll get it for you," Natasha smirks at you and goes to the back for the bike.

He winks at you, completely unfazed by your glare. “You should thank me for falling off the bike. Seems like it led to something good.”

Natasha chuckles softly as she overhear the conversation, clearly enjoying this. You resist the urge to smack your brother’s arm. “Don’t push your luck.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the counter. “You’re welcome, sis. I guess we are even now.”

Hehe thank you for reading!

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Hi! I’ve been loving your starfire x reader x nightwing series so far

Can I request them with a reader who loves books, you can choose whatever genre interest you but maybe they catch reader reading a romance book

Even if you don’t decide to write this I just wanna say how much I love your writing!!

Yandere dick x reader x yandere kory

The library was your sanctuary—a quiet refuge where you could disappear into the pages of a book, leaving the world behind. Today, you had picked up a romance novel, and it had you captivated. The story unfolded in a flurry of passion and forbidden attraction, drawing you in deeper with each turn of the page. The characters, locked in a whirlwind of desire, stirred something within you, and as you read, your cheeks flushed with heat. It was just a book—but the emotions felt so real.

The silence of the room was broken by a voice, familiar and teasing.

“Really?” Dick’s voice drifted into the stillness. You startled, glancing up to find him standing in the doorway, an almost knowing grin on his lips. “I didn’t take you for someone into this kind of thing.”

You slammed the book shut, heart racing, face burning. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, trying to shrug it off, but your blush betrayed you.

Dick moved toward you, stepping into the room with that predatory grace only he possessed. His smirk deepened as he looked at the book you’d hastily closed. “No need to hide it,” he said, his voice low, casual, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “What part did you get to? The good part?”

Before you could respond, the door creaked again, and Kory’s voice entered with a lilting warmth. “What’s going on?” Her eyes flicked from you to Dick, sensing something was off. She stepped inside, her gaze fixing on the book still in your hands. “I see we’re reading something interesting,” she said, her voice full of playful curiosity.

Dick grinned, eyes never leaving you. “Caught our little bookworm in the act,” he said, almost smug in his amusement. “Didn’t know you were into these kinds of.... passions.”

Kory moved closer, her smile warm but her eyes narrowed with possessiveness. “What’s the book about, darling?” she asked, her voice inviting but laced with something deeper, a quiet intensity.

You hesitated, glancing between them. They weren’t asking about the book, not really. You tried to keep your tone neutral. “It’s just a romance novel,” you mumbled, but the weight of their gazes made it impossible to pretend.

“Mm,” Dick hummed, stepping a little closer, his voice taking on a darker edge. “It’s not just a romance, though, is it?” His eyes lingered on you, hungry with curiosity. “You’re reading about something else, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone soft yet sharp, as if he already knew the answer.

Kory’s hand moved to your shoulder, her touch light but commanding. “What do you imagine when you read those words?” she asked, her voice a soft caress, but underneath, there was something darker. “What do you desire when you close your eyes and think of it?”

Your breath hitched. You wanted to lie, to push them away, but the way they looked at you made it impossible to ignore what they already knew. You were lost in their gaze, trapped by their certainty.

Dick smirked, leaning closer, his presence suddenly filling the space around you. “Let me guess,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, but this time, the intent was different—darker. “You’re imagining the hero taking charge, aren’t you? Making everything about them? Hmm? ”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t find the words to deny it. But you didn’t need to speak. Dick already knew. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his smile like a secret only the three of you shared. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re picturing us, aren’t you? Us, instead of those characters. What would it feel like if it were us?”

Kory’s touch was gentle, but her fingers were insistent as they brushed over your chin, guiding your face to hers. “You don’t have to be ashamed,” she murmured. Her voice was softer now, but it held a possessive edge. “We can show you something real, something better than any story could give you.”

Your pulse quickened. You wanted to say something, to tell them that you weren’t like those characters in the book. But their gaze was unwavering, their words wrapping around you like vines. They were pulling you in, and you didn’t know how to escape.

“You’ve been reading these scenes because you want them,” Dick said, his voice now deliberate, dripping with certainty. “You want to feel that passion. That heat. It’s not just the book that excites you. It’s what you wish could happen.” His lips quirked as he closed the distance, his presence heavy with intent.

Kory’s hand slipped down your arm, her touch deliberate and possessive. “We can give you everything you’ve been reading about,” she said, her voice low but commanding. “We can make it real.”

You couldn’t move. The weight of their words, the way they held you in their gaze, made it impossible to escape. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Dick’s hand brushed over your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t need the book anymore,” he said, his voice a soft command. “You’ve already imagined it—us—together. Now let us show you how real it can be.”

Kory’s touch was gentle, but her grip was firm as she cupped your chin, her fingers brushing your skin in a possessive caress. “We’re what you need, beloved,” she said, her tone soft but unmistakable. “And we will give it to you. We are your reality now.”

A quiet, impossible tension swelled in the room. You could feel it, in every glance, every touch, the undeniable certainty in the air between the three of you. You were theirs, whether you liked it or not.

“Let us be your passion,” Dick murmured, his voice low, yet warm with promise. “We’ll show you how to burn with desire. With us, you’ll know that what you read in books doesn’t compare to what we’ll make real.”

Kory’s fingers tightened around your chin, pulling you toward her, and for a moment, you saw a quiet, dangerous promise in her gaze. “We will be your passion,” she repeated softly, her voice almost a lullaby, but with the promise of something far more intense. “And you will never look at a book the same way again.”

The words left you breathless, as they leaned in closer, and the room seemed to fade into the background. The world outside was gone—the only thing left was the undeniable heat of their touch, the certainty of their desire, and the knowledge that you were about to be theirs in every way.

(A/n: they don't love them like I love them 🙌)

[daisymbin]

"you used to love me " with mingyu x fem! Reader💗

of course! thank you for requesting 🥰

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

second chance prompt #44: "you used to love me."

mingyu had gotten used to the coldness in your voice. it wasn't always like this—there was a time when the sound of your laughter had been his favorite thing, when your touch had felt like home. but ever since the breakup, you had a way of cutting him down with sharp words and pointed looks, leaving him wondering where everything had gone wrong.

he didn't know why you hated him now. or at least, why you acted like you did.

“don’t you have anything better to do than linger around here?” you snapped one evening, your tone biting as mingyu hovered near your desk at the shared workspace for a project.

his brows furrowed. “i was just asking if you needed help. no need to bite my head off.”

“well, i don’t,” you replied curtly, your eyes fixed on the papers in front of you.

he clenched his jaw, forcing a polite nod. “got it.”

it wasn’t the first time you’d brushed him off like this. at a mutual friend's party, you'd made a snide comment about how “clingy” he used to be, loud enough for him to hear. when you’d run into him at the grocery store, you muttered something about how “some people just don’t know when to let go” before walking away without so much as a glance back.

but this time, it was different.

the final blow came on a late afternoon, after yet another tense encounter. mingyu had tried to make small talk, asking about your day, and you snapped, “why do you even care? you didn’t care enough when it actually mattered.”

his chest tightened, the words hitting him harder than he expected. for a moment, he just stared at you, his lips parting as if to say something but no sound coming out. finally, his voice broke through, soft and pained.

“you used to love me, you know,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “you don’t have to be like that... you don't have to be so mean.”

your breath caught, and for a moment, you faltered, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “that’s in the past.”

he didn’t reply, just nodded slowly, shoulders heavy as he turned and walked away.

a few days later, you found yourself at the park for an outdoor charity event, mingyu nearby as usual, volunteering for the setup. you tried to avoid him, keeping your distance as much as possible.

but then you heard the commotion.

a crash, followed by a string of startled voices. you whipped around to see mingyu sprawled on the ground near a pile of fallen equipment, holding his arm awkwardly.

“gyu-ah!” you shouted as panic coarses through you, rushing over before you even realized what you were doing. he groaned, trying to sit up, but you dropped to your knees beside him, your hands trembling as they hovered over his arm.

“what were you thinking?” you snapped, but your voice cracked with worry. “you could’ve gotten seriously hurt!”

“im fine,” he said weakly, offering you a small, strained smile. “just a scratch.”

“a scratch?” you repeated, your voice rising. “mingyu, you’re bleeding!”

tears pricked your eyes as you fussed over him, checking his arm for more injuries. mingyu's eyebrows burrowed as he watched you in silence, his heart twisting at the sight of your panic.

“you’re always so reckless,” you muttered, your voice breaking as you pressed a clean cloth to his arm to stop the bleeding. “why do you always have to act like nothing matters? why can't you take better care of yourself? you scared me.”

he blinked, taken aback. “you were scared?”

“of course i was scared!” you snapped, tears spilling over now. “do you think i’d just stand there and do nothing if something happened to you? i—”

you stopped, realizing what you were about to say. your hands froze, still pressed against his arm, and you refused to meet his gaze.

“you still care about me,” mingyu said softly, his voice filled with quiet wonder.

you swallowed hard, shaking your head. “i... i don’t...”

“you do,” he pressed, leaning closer despite the pain in his arm. “you wouldn’t be like this if you didn’t.”

you bit your lip, fresh tears welling up. “what do you want me to say?” you asked in exasperation and frustration, your shoulders shaking. “what do you want me to do? why can't you just.. why do you keep making me worry? why can't you just stay away? why do you have to make moving on from you so hard? why cant you just let me be mean and hate you? its so much easier to just hate you than—”

mingyu could only watch helplessly as you choked over your sobs. his heart broke at your words, guilt washing over him. “i’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “for everything. for making you feel like you had to do that just to protect yourself. i... i didn't mean to," mingyu says defeatedly, "i know i probably don’t deserve it, but.. i miss us.”

your breath hitched, and he reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours. “i don’t want to hurt you again,” he continued, his voice soft and vulnerable. “but if there’s even the smallest part of you that’s willing to try again... i’d do anything to show you how much i still love you.”

you looked up at him, his sincerity clear in his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, the wall you’d built around your heart began to crack.

“i hate you,” you muttered as your fist balled and hits his chest, "i hate you so much," your voice trembling as the tears now fall freely.

still, mingyu smiled through his pain, knowing what this means. “i love you,” he confesses, "I love you so much,"

"I hate you," you repeat, your fist going up to hit his chest again.

this time, mingyu catches you by your wrist, "you hate me as much as you love me, sweetheart." at this, your eyes only waters more because you know he's right; you dont actually hate him.

mingyu's grip on your wrist loosened, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. his gaze softened, but he didn't let go, holding onto you like you were his lifeline.

"you hate me, but you're still here," he murmured, his voice trembling as he let out a bitter laugh. "you’re crying because of me, you’re still holding on, too."

your lips parted to argue, but nothing came out. the truth sat heavy in the air between you.

"stop it," you whispered instead, your voice wavering.

he shook his head, his free hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped down. "i love you," he says again softly, his thumb lingering on your skin. "i’m not asking you to forgive me right away. i’m not even asking you to love me again—"

"gyu-," you interrupted, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice.

he smiled faintly, shaking his head. "no, just let me say this," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "all I'm asking for is a chance. a chance to show you that i can do better. that i can be the man you deserve to have by your side."

your heart pounded in your chest, his words hitting you with a force you weren’t prepared for. your walls wavered, the cracks growing wider with each syllable he spoke.

"and if you can’t," mingyu continued, his voice breaking slightly, "if you can’t give me that chance, i’ll walk away. i’ll leave you alone for good if that’s what you want."

you stared at him, your throat tight as tears threatened to spill again. his honesty was overwhelming, and for a moment, you hated how much you wanted to believe him.

"you used to love me," he voice soft & hoarse, it almost broke you. "and i know i messed it up. but if there’s even the smallest part of you that still does, just... let me fix it."

the silence between you felt deafening. your heart screamed at you to take the risk, but your head begged you to protect yourself.

you searched his face, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all you saw was him—raw, open, and so clearly in love with you that it hurt.

"you’re an idiot," you muttered, your voice breaking, but your grip on his hand didn’t falter.

mingyu let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his lips curving into a relieved, almost disbelieving smile. "i missed hearing you say that," he said softly, pulling you closer.

you rolled your eyes, a weak laugh escaping you despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "don’t push your luck."

"never," he said, his voice full of quiet determination as he pulled you into a gentle embrace. "i promise."

[jjssweetlover]

first time with jj? he's just such a sweet boy and so kind 😕

maybe the reader is insecure/feels like he'll look at her differently (similar to sarah's problem in season one) but he's just so sweet and gentle and attentive.

still my girl

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader

info/warnings: smut, fingering, pinv, oral (fem receiving), reader is a virgin, jj is experienced, established relationship, unprotected sex, sex on jjs new boat?? slightly sensitive!reader.

asks: open! 𝜗𝜚

a/n: thank you for this anon!! this is the sweetest idea, hopefully i wrote it to your liking!

going on a boat ride at night is what you needed. it was so peaceful and pure. and after everything you guys went through you needed it. things started slow, out on the water and looking up at the stars while laying on a towel.

but now jj was on top of you leaving the sweetest kisses to your skin. and it felt good, it felt amazing. but you knew what this led to, you knew it led to questions and answers that left you embarrassed. jj didn’t really know you were a virgin, just that you and him have never done it.

he was okay with you wanting to wait and respected your time. but honestly, how could the man be so oblivious to the truth? if your awkward kisses weren’t already a give away then what would be? you didn’t wanna say it to him straight up; it was embarrassing.

you knew he was experienced, everyone did. you didn’t want to scare him off, you didn’t want him to question why, you didn’t want to be that vulnerable. his mouth trailing down your neck snapped you out of your thoughts. he was sucking and biting on just the right area.

light whimpers fell from your lips which caused jj to groan in return. his hand began to trail down your stomach, sliding up your tank top and stopping on your stomach. he pulled away and looked at you and you knew why, yet you were frozen. the moment felt so right, you felt so ready. so why couldn’t you do it? why couldn’t you say anything?

he gazed down upon you with a look on his face you’ve never seen before. his face spoke of love but his eyes were full of lust. but it wasn’t a bad kind, it was the kind that made you feel beautiful. when you looked at him everything changed. you knew you needed to tell him.

“jayj.. i needa tell you somethin’..” your words came out before you could even fully process it. he hummed and nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear. “what’s up?” he whispered, you loved when he talked so soft with you. your mouth opened but stayed silent, your gaze looked away from him and focused on the side of the boat. “i’m a virgin.” the words sounded so cowardly coming from your mouth. you felt so embarrassed you didn’t want to look him in the eye.

his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes widened for a moment before he leaned down and left a kiss to your cheek. “look at me, please?” and with his tone so pleading you couldn’t say no. you fixed your gaze on him and let out a sigh, scanning his face for any look of disgust or judgement. but all you found was the same loving look from moments before.

his forearms rested on either side of your head and he brushed his thumb back and forth on your forehead. “that’s okay— it’s okay if you aren’t ready.” and he sounded so so genuine. you were ready though, you knew you were. but you just couldn’t get yourself to say it.

“i’m just scared” your voice cracked as the words came out, and suddenly your face felt damp. what an embarrassing moment to be crying. his arm moved to bring his hand to your face and his thumb wiped away your tears. he gave you a look and without his words you knew he was asking why. you whispered your words out, looking at his lips instead of his eyes. “i’m scared that you’ll see all of me, and that you won’t like it.” he immediately shook his head. “i could never feel that way about you. nothing you do could change how i feel.” his words were true, you could tell. jj may lie to the law a lot, but he never lies to you.

there was silence for a moment before he spoke again. “when you’re ready i’ll be there, i’m okay with waiting for you.” he was the sweetest boy you’ve ever laid your eyes on. you shook your head and leaned in for a kiss. you pulled away and nodded. “i want to.” at first he was confused by your words, but when it hit him he furrowed his brows and smiled. “are you sure?” his voice had excitement in it, you could tell. you nodded your head and gave him an audible “yes.”

immediately his mouth was back on your neck, kissing down to your collar bone. his hand went back under your shirt were it was 5 minutes earlier. you hummed and kissed the top of his head. you pushed him away from you and sat up halfway. he looked at you worried, thinking he might’ve done something wrong. but when your hands went to the bottom of your tank top and slid it off, he couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips.

he leaned down and his lips made contact with the top of your breasts that spilled over your bra. “you’re so beautiful..” he mumbled into your soft skin. you let out a sigh at the feeling. he pulled away and looked down at you, his hands going down to your shorts. you nodded and right away felt his fingers lightly unbuttoning your shorts and sliding them down. you were left in just your bra and underwear, and being on the water meant it was colder. he moved to hover over you fully, his body heat warming you.

he went back to kissing your chest while his right hand trailed down and into your underwear. he ran a finger through your folds and let out a needy groan. he stopped his middle finger on your clit and began a light rubbing motion. you gasped and clutched onto his shoulders. his fingers were cold and calloused, but he was so good at what he was doing. he let out a low laugh, the vibrations being felt on the skin of your breast. “you’re being so good..” he pulled away to mumble. you moved your hips slightly and he pulled away to look at you.

he moved back and pulled his hand out, your face quickly turning to a frown but not for long. he pulled down your underwear slowly and placed his hands under your knees, lifting them up so that your legs were bent. “open your legs for me. please, sweet girl?” his voice sounded so pleading and kind. no matter how embarrassed you were you did it, your knees separated and your feet shuffled over. you looked up at the stars as your back laid flat, too scared to look jj in his eyes.

“you’re so beautiful.” he gawked in awe, moving to rest between your legs and hover over you again. he gave your hip a squeeze as he moved his hand back down to your area. he ran his middle finger down through your folds and to your entrance, circling it before pushing his finger in. you bit your lip and furrowed your brows. it felt so much different when it was somebody else doing this to you. his finger curled up and moved at a steady pace, only pulling out slightly before pushing back in. it felt perfect. this was your first time and yet it’s like he already knows your body. you felt the pressure of his ring finger being added and shifted your hips, pushing down against up with a quiet moan. he kissed your jaw and smiled.

“it’s okay to make noise baby.” his tone was so condescending but his intentions weren’t. you huffed and leaned in to his him, your hands holding his cheeks as you sucked at his upper lip. his fingers moved at a faster pace now, pulling further out and pushing in harder than before while his thumb rubbed your clit. you felt your stomach tightening and knew you were getting closer. it was a feeling you’ve felt before, but your own fingers could never do as good as jjs were right now. he could feel the rise and fall of your stomach against him picking up pace and your kisses become more sloppy as you sighed into his mouth.

he pulled his fingers out and pulled back from you, slowly moving his whole body down. you let out a frustrated groan and looked at him confused. “what? why’d you-” and before you could finish your sentence his tongue was on your clit. you gasped and looked down at him, pulling his hair as your legs involuntarily closed around his head. “you— you don’t have to do that” you spoke winded. he hummed against you in response, not stopping the moments of his tongue as he brought his pointer and ring finger back to your entrance and pushed them in. the combination was quick to bring that knot in your stomach back as your legs shook and tightened around his head. your back lifted off the ground and you let out a high pitched moan, you didn’t even know you could do that.

you could feel his stupid smile against your skin. his fingers pumped at a rapid pace while his lips sucked at your clit. you were in shock. your breathing sped up and your grip on his hair became tighter. you let out soft, loud moans as you hit your high. your body twitched slightly and your hips ground against his face.

as you came down from your orgasm your back flattened against the floor again, your legs fell slightly more open and your chest rose and fell faster with deep breaths. jj sat up fully and smiled at you, licking his lips and wiping his mouth. he crawled back over you and leaned in to kiss you. you could taste yourself on him and it was weird, but it wasn’t bad. “you taste so good” he mumbled into your lips. his hand went to tug down his shorts and boxers halfway, pumping himself a few times before he pulled away and looked at you.

“are you sure you wanna do this? i mean it when i say we can sto-” you didn’t let him finish his sentence and cut him off with a deep kiss. you pulled away with a nod. he smiled down at you and nodded back, guiding himself to your entrance before he slowly pushed in. it was a painful stretch, but easier since he had used his fingers before hand.

when he was halfway in he stopped, sitting and letting you get used to the feeling. you had a look on your face that was a mix of pain and confusion. it was an unknown feeling. you tapped his shoulder and gave him a sign to keep moving. he pushed himself in the rest of the way slowly and as you felt the stretch grow you couldn’t fight against the urge to shut your eyes and wince. he scanned your face and kissed your cheek.

“hey you’re okay, it’s okay. it’s gonna hurt a bit, it’ll feel so good after baby.” his words were so comforting, and somehow attractive. “you’re being so good, my gorgeous girl.” he whispered the words in your ear. you opened your eyes and took a deep breath, wiggling your hips a bit as a way to tell him he could move. he nodded and pulled out before pushing back in at a slow, but hard pace. it was like all the pain had faded away and suddenly this was the best thing you’ve ever felt. each time he pulled out and pushed back in he hit every spot inside of you so perfectly. it was like he was made for you. each stroke of him brushing against your cervix. you wrapped your legs around him and leaned your head back.

“faster” you asked him in a whisper. you didn’t even expect yourself to do that. and as his pace picked up and his hips began to slam into you harder you let out a strangled moan. one that had been waiting to come out. you could hear him laugh while he leaned down to kiss your neck. his hips bucked into you at such a perfect pace. his hand came down to rub your clit and you gasped. the added sensation with the pressure of him pushing into you almost felt like too much.

“thank you jay… thank you, thank yo-” and you didn’t even know exactly why you were thanking him but you were cut off by a loud whimper. he nipped at your skin and groaned with each stroke that he made. it was like he was engraving himself into all of you.

you felt that sensation in your stomach all over again, somehow more powerful this time. you clawed at jjs back and your legs tightened around him, pulling him in closer. your eyes shut and you let out loud, strangled moans as you came. the sight and sounds were enough to push jj off the edge, he pulled out and gave himself a few pumps before he came on your stomach. you both sat in eachothers company for a minute, catching your breath as the sound of the waves crashing took over.

“you were so good, so beautiful.” jj spoke in winded whispers. “i love you” he said it proudly with a smile, leaning down and kissing you as he grabbed his shirt and used it to wipe off your stomach before moving down to wipe your lower area. he started to gather your clothes and helped you stand up, sliding your shirt on over your head and helping you button your shorts as he hugged you from behind. he left light kisses to your shoulder as he fixed your hair. he helped you sit back down after and sat across from you.

“just so you know, i don’t see you any different. you’re still my girl.”his words came out with a laugh, but that’s just how jj talks. he made you feel so comfortable during all of it and even if you felt different about yourself for now you trusted that his opinion on you didn’t change in any way. you trusted that he really does love you.

[sweetieviktor]

"salvation", feat. viktor.

summary: you come to his temple and ask the herald to heal you.

word count: 540.

content warning: season 2, arc 2 spoilers!!! please, don't read if you haven't seen the series yet! some descriptions might sound even a bit sexual but this is a sfw work! i just got a bit carried away while writing sensations lol. also, viktor may be a little ooc since im still getting used to him on the new season.

author notes: i rushed this one hehe but its finally complete! i really wanted to write something based on season 2 and the insane amount of people saying things as such "i would join his church wtvr" or "i may believe in god now" made me think why not write this kind of thing happening? so here it is :))))

you heard the rumors spreading through the lanes, there was someone, a “savior”, helping the ones in need – the shimmer addicts, the sick and the dying. and you thought that maybe the herald, as they called him, could save you.

so you walked down the busy streets, passing by empty shops and crowded brothels, finally descending in the dark alleys until light reached your eyes again, revealing a bright environment, made with metal, all with different colors and textures, molded into organic shapes, like it was meant to be like this all along. contorted yet so beautiful. outside the arch separating the commune and the commoners, there were people just like you, asking for help and hoping for his salvation.

a man walked towards you, the white clothing draped around him accentuating the swirly metallic patterns engraved on his body. “if you have something that could possibly harm someone, i must ask you to leave those here. this is a place of peace”, you discarded everything you could think of, emptying all pockets you had and he looked at you with empathy on his eyes, while you left behind everything that you used during your worst times, letting go of a part of your story, letting go of your past self. “now, you shall come. he is expecting you.”

the man walked in front of you, guiding your path between tents full of people, healthy people, all dressed in white. some adults were working while the kids were playing and you were in pure awe, it all seemed so... perfect. a miracle that happened on the underground.

“the herald is waiting, you must go”, he gestured towards a round temple-like structure, tilting his head and leaving you alone shortly after, moving to the arch again.

you followed his words, walking till you reached where the herald was, in fact, waiting for you. flowing hair and royal blue fabric covering his glowing purple skin, all adorned with golden accents. he looked ethereal, almost inhuman, a god-like figure, a saint. the kind of saint that could fix the broken. fix you.

you came closer and he extended his hand in your direction without saying a word – it was not needed, actually –, you could sense his intentions, it was kind of a vibration, radiating off his fingers. he wanted to save you. so, when he touched your forehead, the whole world seemed to fade with a burst of light and all you could do was to feel. feel his cold fingers pressing further in your skin, feel the jolts it sended through your body, the way it ignited something deep inside of you, how you couldn't breathe, the way your veins burned and your heart rate increased, but it didn't hurt at all, instead, you felt alive. the metal fusing with your body, the magic circling both of you, how you could feel him inside of you, changing, morphing and purifying your flesh. it felt like you ascended to heaven and came back different, new, evolved. gloriously evolved.

he pulled back his arm, allowing your body to fall to its knees, and he knelt too, leaning on his staff, looking at you with his emotionless iridescent eyes, “now, you need not suffer anymore.”

[soniclozdplove]

MK Something came up on the mountain. Will explain during training. DO NOT BRING OUR FRIENDS! Especially Jangles! Trust me, you'll understand why when you get here. Monkey King.

MK reread the message for the 100th time, worried over the implications. Not only does Wukong rarely use the phone Mei got him, preferring to simply Astral Project any messages they need to do, but he'd never forbid their friends from joining in on training. Not since they all started training together while fighting against Azure, and Wukong had promised to not keep secrets anymore, what with the Samhadi Fire debacle. So the fact he's asking to keep it a secret is a big deal. Although, as Mei had pointed out when he showed her the message, the other monkey had never explicitly said to keep it a secret, just that he didn't want anyone except MK on the mountain for some reason, likely related to whatever he was going to tell him during training.

"Weird that he pointed out Tang in particular. Like, what did Tang of all people do to make Wukong not want him near!?"

MK didn't know. But as he flew towards the mountain he resolved to find out. The last thing he expected was to be met by a very familiar face when he landed. Or rather, four familiar faces that looked far too similar yet still different from his family to be a coincidence.

"Eeek! Demon boy!!" The Great Monk Tripitaka shrieked as he cowards behind Zu Baijie, Ao Lie, and Sha Wujing. All of them with weapons pointed towards him.

"Aye! Knock it off!" Wukong's voice roared out as he appeared in a flash of gold and red, standing between MK and the others, guarding him. "It's just my c- It's just my successor!"

The weapons immediately drop as the Pilgrims, the ACTUAL PILGRIMS from the STORIES, looked at Wukong incredulously. Zu Baije was the one to voice it.

"You!? A TEACHER!?"

"Yeah, I know!" Wukong snorted, as if hardly believing it himself, "But a lot can change in 1300 years and MK is a good kid. He deserves only the best, Piglet!"

"And... that's you?"

"No, but I'm the one he's got." Wukong's voice was flat, prompting MK to turn his attention to him. He yelped as a well placed kick hit his shin. "MK! What the heck!?"

"What have we talking about regarding self deprivation, Monkey King."

"What... I- that was for you!"

"Still applies!" MK folded his arms triumphantly as the audience began snickering at Wukong's flustered expression as he tried to find a comeback. Eventually his master concedes defeat with a chuckle, throwing his arm around MK in a side hug with a wide grin.

"Alright... well let's do introductions! Master, Ao Lie, Sha Wujing... Piglet. This is Xiaotian, or MK as he prefers, my student and successor. MK, the Pilgrims of the Great Journey... who somehow ended up here!"

"Oh wow! This is like a total dream come true!" MK was practically vibrating as he grinned, only to pause and turn to Wukong as a thought of occurred to him, Wait. Is this why you said Mr. Tang and the others shouldn't come over!?"

"Ah... yeah. That." The Monkey King scratched at his facial fur a but, looking guilty, "I have a good reason for it, MK. Jangles and the rest of these guys' next life in the reincarnation cycle. In all my years of living, I've never experienced a situation where a reincarnation has met their predecessor face to face. I wanted to be cautious in case, like, Jangles meeting Master causes the world to implode or something... again."

"Again?" Tripitaka raised a brow, glancing at Wukong with a concerned look, "Monkey, just what sort of-"

"L-look! We've have some crazy stuff happen recently, okay!? A crazy ice witch turned the mortal realm into an icicle, someone overthrew the Jade Emperor..."

"Somone did WHAT!?"

"And all of reality very nearly kinda sorta shattered when a pillar broke. MK and I managed to fix all of it."

"Yeah, we kicked monkey butt!" MK cheered along, "And only kinda got... emotional, physically, and mentally scarred along the way."

"Only kinda!?" Ao Lie tilted his head, curious, "Would any scarring at all not be considered a big deal?"

Wukong let out a laugh, slinging an arm around MK and the dragon's shoulders.

"Look, it's done and... maybe not over yet, but the main threat is passed. Let's jsut all settle down, I'll put some tea on, and we'll go from there. And maybe make a few calls to Sandy..."

That last part was muttered to himself as he herded the two into his house alongside the rest of the Pilgrims, telling them.not to mind the mess. After all, he shares the place with a bunch of wild monkeys and was still in the middle of cleaning up after Azure.

[yngikr]

what if?

what if suguru had turned around?

tw- hinting at depressed suguru

(lol i kinda hate this but whatever. tears falling out of my satosugu eyes so im trying to cope.)

*

the rain fell softly that evening, the kind that didn’t soak you but left a chill clinging to your skin. satoru stood just outside the kfc, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting for something he wasn’t even sure would come. the last words he and suguru had exchanged echoed in his mind, sharp and painful. suguru had turned his back on him—on everything—and yet, satoru couldn’t let it end like that. not tonight. 

inside, the quiet hum of the lights above was drowned out by the storm brewing between the two of them. suguru sat at a booth by the window, staring down at the untouched drink in front of him. he looked thinner than satoru remembered, his usually sharp eyes dulled, his shoulders slumped as though the weight of his own convictions was crushing him. 

satoru had always known suguru carried burdens—ones he couldn’t quite understand. but this? this was different. there was something broken in him now, something hollow. and satoru hated it. 

he stepped inside, his presence loud even in his silence, and suguru didn’t even look up. for a moment, satoru hesitated, unsure of what to say, unsure if words could even reach the man who had been his everything. but he refused to let this silence stretch into a goodbye. 

“i can’t do this, suguru,” satoru said finally, his voice soft but firm, like a wave lapping at the shore. “i can’t just watch you destroy yourself.” 

suguru’s head lifted slightly, his dark eyes meeting satoru’s for the first time in what felt like years. there was a flicker of something there—regret, perhaps, or hope—but it was quickly buried beneath the weight of his resolve. “i don’t need saving, satoru,” he muttered, though the words lacked conviction. “you can’t fix this.” 

satoru stepped closer, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. his sunglasses were off, his cerulean eyes laid bare. they were piercing but soft, full of an understanding that suguru hadn’t allowed himself to see before. “i’m not trying to fix you,” satoru said, his voice low. “i just want to help you carry it.” 

suguru flinched as if the words had physically struck him. for so long, he’d carried this darkness alone, convinced that no one could understand, that no one could shoulder the things he’d seen, the things he’d done. but here was satoru, stubborn and unrelenting, offering his hand once again. 

and for the first time in years, suguru hesitated. 

“what do you want from me, satoru?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. 

satoru leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his expression unusually serious. “i want you to stop running from me. from us. you’re not alone, suguru. you never were.” 

the weight of the words hit suguru harder than any curse ever could. he wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that after everything he’d done, after all the lives he’d taken and all the blood on his hands, he could still be someone worth saving. 

and then he thought of the emptiness, the loneliness that had consumed him for so long. the nights spent staring at the ceiling, wishing for a hand to pull him out of the darkness. maybe… maybe it didn’t have to be this way. 

slowly, suguru stood. for a moment, satoru tensed, afraid he would walk away again. but instead, suguru moved toward him, his steps tentative but deliberate. when he stopped in front of him, satoru tilted his head up, looking at him with an expression suguru couldn’t quite place. 

“i don’t know if i can do this,” suguru admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know if i can be the person you want me to be.” 

satoru smiled softly, reaching out to clasp suguru’s hand in his own. “then don’t. just be you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.” 

for the first time in years, suguru allowed himself to believe him. allowed himself to let go of the anger, the guilt, and the pain that had kept him shackled. and as the rain continued to fall outside, satoru stood, pulling suguru into an embrace that felt more like home than anything suguru had ever known. 

“we’ll figure this out together,” satoru whispered, his voice steady, a promise. 

and in that moment, suguru turned away from the abyss and back toward the light. toward satoru. 

they left the kfc together, the storm giving way to a calm, as though the world itself had taken a deep breath. suguru didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time, he wasn’t afraid to face it. 

as they walked down the empty street, side by side, satoru glanced at suguru and smiled. it wasn’t the cocky grin suguru had grown so used to, but something softer, something real. 

and for the first time in a very long time, suguru smiled back. 

[horseshoegirl]

Dragon Age: AntivanCrow!MickeyGarcia

When I tell you I have a soft spot for the Crows .... 👀 Mickey just fits into their world... 🖤

The rooftop smelled of wet stone and stale chimney smoke, a stench Mikhael, or Mickey as his cousin liked to tease him with, had long since stopped noticing. The city of Kirkwall sprawled below him in jagged shadows, the faint hum of voices and clatter of wagons never truly ceasing. He crouched low, his silhouette blending with the crumbling stone parapet, his eyes fixed on his mark.

You. A forgotten Trevelyan. And a mage, no less.

You were nothing like he’d imagined when he’d taken the contract. The dossier had painted you as dangerous, a rogue apostate with ties to blood magic, someone who could snap their fingers and turn him into ash. Instead, you stood in a patch of weak moonlight outside your tiny cottage, a shawl draped over your shoulders, humming softly as you fed scraps to a mangy dog.

Not exactly the harbinger of chaos he’d been promised.

Mikhael adjusted his position, feeling the familiar weight of his twin daggers at his hips. Weeks of observation had told him one thing: you were no threat. No shady deals in dark alleys, no suspicious visitors slipping in and out of your home. Just endless days of mending clothes, tending to sick children, and healing wounds with gentle spells and elfroot that barely flickered with power.

It didn’t make sense.

The Crows didn’t take just any job. Whoever had paid the exorbitant sum for this contract clearly wanted you gone for reasons beyond what they’d told him. And yet… it wasn’t his job to ask questions. It was his job to kill.

So why had he spent three weeks not doing that?

“Don’t get soft,” he muttered under his breath.

The dog barked once, startling him out of his thoughts. You turned your head slightly, scanning the shadows. Mikhael stilled, every muscle going taut as you stared in his direction.

“I know you’re there,” you called out, voice steady but laced with uncertainty. The dog let out another growl, baring its teeth.

Mikhael debated melting into the shadows and slipping away for a split second, as he’d done so many times before. But something about how you stood there, with your chin held high despite the fear in your eyes, made him hesitate.

“Are you going to come out, or should I just start throwing fireballs?” you added, a teasing lilt to your words.

Mikhael smirked despite himself. Bold. He liked that.

Slowly, he stood, stepping into the pale moonlight. The dog growled louder but didn’t move, clearly more bark than bite. Your eyes widened, and he saw fear flicker for a moment. Then you straightened, your expression hardening.

“Well?” you demanded. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

He could have killed you then. Should have. A quick throw of his dagger would end it all, and the Crows would never know how long he’d hesitated. But instead, he found himself saying, “Just passing through.”

Your brow arched. “On my roof?”

Mikhael shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Best view in the city.”

Something told him that, for better or worse, this job was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

[sarbear94]

Because Evan-

(It’s a long one…sorry not sorry 😘)

Okay…. I’ve been rewatching some old Buddie scenes because of the potential of Eddie moving back to El Paso and…. excuse my language but…. What the fuck?

It’s like the writers are new or don’t know what to do with Eddie anymore. Or like someway, somehow the episodes are out of order.

In THAT scene, Buck asks “he has grandparents, family” and Eddie reply’s “After Shannon left, they tried to guilt me into giving Christopher to them. It wasn’t what I wanted then, it’s not what I want now.” They then both agreed that no one would fight harder for Chris than Buck.

So WHY THE FUCK haven’t either of them gotten him back yet??

Eddie started season 7 with Marisol and Chris and everyone’s fine. Then Chris is dating multiple girls (Eddie is baffled and doesn’t know how to handle it so he asks Buck for help) and said it has to do with his mom to Buck and we get that EMOTIONAL shot of Eddie devastated after hearing this. Then proceeds to give him a letter to bring about closure for him. Eddie seemed to already have closure or at least repressed it.

Then Eddie meets Kim…. And the Eddie we have loved for 6 seasons is IMMEDIATELY GONE. He does the exact same thing that he told Buck about Christopher was not okay And needed to be fixed (he was BEGGING Buck for help).

Like, my dude, how did you think this was gonna go? You kept everyone in the dark. Your son, your best friend, your GIRLFRIEND and even Kim! What was his end goal? It doesn’t make any sense.

Like I understand that if Gavin wasn’t gonna be around next season, and you need to write him off but have him potentially come back, there were several ways you could have done that but still kept true to the characters. Have Chris go to a boarding school. Or a school trip. Or literally ANYTHING ELSE! Then season 8, keep the Kim storyline, but Chris is already gone and doesn’t witness it. Cause now that whole confession thing with Kim pretending to be Shannon and actually get closure was pointless. If they’d done that with Chris gone, he’d have the closure. Work on the PTSD crawling back up in an empty house, keep the Priest and finding Joy and then keep that for a bit and then heal.

That was a whole side tangent really for the main point I was trying to make, but why does Eddie- lose Chris, grow a mustache, grieve for not having his son, have an episode where a Priest says “let yourself have Joy,” then take it away in the next couple of episodes by saying “I’m thinking of moving to Texas” based on the words of a psycho actor??

Chris is a TEENAGER! Hell- he might still be a preteen, grow the fuck up and go parent your son. You’ve put your foot down before, why is this any different?? After a few weeks, I would have been like “nope, we’re done with this. I get I fucked up, but I’m still your dad so we are gonna talk about this and figure out some common ground.” I understand feeling guilty and not wanting to push him even farther away but you’re not even trying! Phone calls don’t show “I want you here with me,” it says “I’m okay with you being gone.”

You’re thinking moving to El Paso is a great idea… but it’s not. Your parents suck. You know this. YOU MOVED HALF WAY ACROSS THE US TO GET AWAY FROM THEM FOR A REASON! I get you patched things up slightly, but not enough.

ALSO! Why wasn’t Buck an option?!? Because of Tommy? I get because Gavin being out of the show(temporarily?) would have made that impossible but why wasn’t it even mentioned? I mean, He’s run to him before, he’s called him when Eddie had his breakdown and Chris didn’t know what to do. But like THEY HAD THE WILL, why wasn’t it even a factor in this. At the time, it felt like, at least to Chris, that Eddie was incapable of taking care of him, which means that Chris should go to Buck. Not his grandparents.

I just don’t understand what they are doing with these two. E and C. Bucks got his bisexual journey(relationship with Tommy). Bobby has multiple storylines. The Hans had the Mara and new baby storylines. Hen and Karen had the Ortiz/Mara and Denny/Halloween storylines. Athena has literally any storyline involving cops. And all those storylines make sense for each character. Eddie’s and Chris’s doesn’t. They keep pushing Eddie to be sad then happy then making stupid decisions. DEVELOP YOUR FUCKING CHARACTER! You’ve been dropping the ball since at least the network switch. Which I find super funny because yes, he does the emotional scenes super amazing but now it seems like his character is more open. He’s making more funny faces, he’s got the loose hair, he makes comedic jokes. But he’s almost(so close) to reminding me of Buck 1.0.. but it doesn’t fit with the storyline at all. At least to me…

Like does anyone agree with any of this? Am I just seeing things? Did the writers get told Gavin was leaving too late and made this story on the fly and rolled with it? Does Ryan want out of the show and they are keeping it under wraps? Like WHAT IS HAPPENING? Make it make sense!

Ps. I did not proofread this before posting so if something doesn’t make sense, let me know. I was just trying to get down all my thoughts on this. Currently me vvv

[skzficstapes]

track 01: ghost of you by 5sos

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the floorboards. You sat on the couch, a blanket draped over your shoulders, staring blankly at the cup of tea in your hands. It had gone cold long ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Chan’s absence was a weight that never lifted, a ghost that lingered in every corner of the life you once shared. The apartment still smelled faintly of him—his cologne, the detergent he insisted on using because it "smelled like home." Even months later, you couldn’t bring yourself to change much. His jacket still hung by the door. His favorite mug sat untouched in the kitchen.

And yet, despite your efforts to preserve his memory, you knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever bring him back.

A knock at the door broke the silence, startling you. For a moment, you didn’t move, as if ignoring it would make the world leave you alone. But the knocking came again, more insistent this time.

You sighed, setting the tea down and shuffling to the door. When you opened it, Jisung stood there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, snowflakes dusting his dark hair.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft.

“Hey,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, shaking the snow off his coat and toeing off his boots. He’d been coming around a lot lately—bringing groceries, fixing little things around the apartment, keeping you company even when you didn’t ask for it. He was Chan’s best friend, and now, in his absence, he seemed determined to fill the void.

You appreciated it. You did. But it also made things more complicated.

“You didn’t have to come,” you said, closing the door behind him.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he said simply, his tone more matter-of-fact than accusatory. He shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the rack beside Chan’s. The sight of them together, one belonging to the past and one to the present, made your chest tighten.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I just... wanted to check on you.”

You nodded, retreating to the couch. He followed, sitting down beside you but keeping a careful distance.

“How are you holding up?” he asked after a moment.

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, though the crack in your voice betrayed the lie.

Jisung sighed, leaning back against the couch. “You don’t have to say that, you know. Not with me.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the cold tea on the table.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You closed your eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay. “I miss him,” you admitted, your voice shaking.

“I know,” Jisung said.

You looked at him then, and the raw emotion in his eyes nearly undid you. He missed Chan too, you knew that. They’d been inseparable, practically brothers. Losing him had shattered Jisung in his own way, and yet he was here, trying to hold you together when he was still piecing himself back.

“Sometimes I feel like he’s still here,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Like if I turn around, I’ll see him standing there, smiling like nothing’s wrong.”

Jisung swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I feel that way too,” he admitted. “It’s like... he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.”

Silence settled between you, heavy with the weight of shared grief.

“I don’t know how to move on,” you said after a while, your voice trembling. “I don’t even know if I want to.”

Jisung shifted closer, his hand hovering near yours before he pulled it back. “You don’t have to move on,” he said softly. “Not in the way people think. You can carry him with you. It doesn’t mean you’re letting go. It just means... you’re finding a way to keep living.”

His words hit something deep inside you, something you’d been avoiding. You turned to look at him, and for the first time, you really saw him—not just as Chan’s best friend, but as someone who was trying to navigate this loss just like you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice breaking.

“I know,” he said. And then, after a beat, “Me too.”

The space between you seemed to shrink, the air charged with something you couldn’t quite name. His gaze dropped to your lips for a fleeting second before he quickly looked away, guilt flashing across his face.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling back.

“Jisung...” you began, but you didn’t know what to say.

He stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “I should go,” he said, his voice tight.

“Wait,” you said, standing as well.

He paused, his back to you, his shoulders tense.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He turned slowly, his eyes searching yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice laced with both hope and hesitation.

You nodded, though your chest felt like it might cave in. “Stay.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a brief, reckless moment, you wondered what it would feel like to close the distance completely.

But then the guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you pulled your hand away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up again. “I can’t—”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, his own eyes glistening. “I get it. I do.”

The tension between you was unbearable, a mix of longing and guilt and something you couldn’t name.

“I’ll stay,” he said finally, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes. “But only as long as you need me to.”

You nodded, the tears spilling over as he pulled you into a hug. You clung to him, the warmth of his embrace both a comfort and a reminder of what you’d lost.

And as the night stretched on, you stayed there, tangled in a web of grief and love and the haunting presence of the one who was no longer there. The ghost of Chan lingered between you, a silent witness to the connection you and Jisung were too afraid to fully acknowledge.

For now, it was enough. But you both knew it couldn’t stay that way forever.

[mistake-responsibility]

[ ROLL: 4 - Fail. ] Oh, no. He knows this trick, he knows this. He’ll admit to everything and he’ll screw himself over like he always does. All he has to do is keep his damn mouth shut and they won’t catch him, not at all, they don’t actually know, they

[ ROLL: 2 - Fail. ] The words get jumbled with his mouth and head, things he means to say in bits and pieces interspersed with what should have only been thought. It flows out like a fucking creek. He can’t stop himself.

“ No. No, no, no, you’re fucking- corporate, fucking spies, fucking feds, god I fucking hate feds, you’re trying to- no, there’s some fucking law against that-? This is space… whos to say if it applies… I can’t, I’m not incriminating myself, I didn’t even, I only ever meant to hurt HER of all people, she was fucking annoying, I just, she was fucking USELESS, had to be something she could do and she fucked that up, and that stupid fucking HORSE won’t shut up, like it even MEANT anything.”

Jimmy is still kicking all the while, but it doesn’t do shit.

“ He fucking thinks it’s on par with actual murder, like he knows something I don’t, stupid fucking horse, she’s alive and V isn’t and I’m fucking dealing with it, I have to. The fuck- Curly wasn’t, wasn’t ever going to call her family, I had to, I had to tell them, she was so fucking mad, god I hate that phone ringing, I still hear it, fucking bitch, I don’t get it, she acts like I didn’t suffer either, like I don’t see V in the halls, like she doesn’t try to pull me apart, it fucking hurts, god, I had been clean for years and this is how it gets ruined, it wasn’t even my fault, I had to. If I didn’t, he would’ve, I didn’t want to waste his time, even if I did anyways, he showed me what I needed to do, I keep doing it, over and over every time I see her, more a piece of meat than a person anymore.”

“ Ed- he wasn’t even my fault, I didn’t- I didn’t even touch him, I don’t know why he- I had to do something. He was dead, I didn’t know what to do, I was fixing everything and he fucking- he died, he offed himself, I had to hide him, I couldn’t let anyone see, they would’ve lost it, and if I found him people would ask, and. He fucking made fun of me, taunted me for doing it, I tore myself open hiding him and he still laughed, I was doing him a fucking favor, it wasn’t even my fault that time.”

“ I paid my fucking price, none of you even get it, I know what I’m going to be, I have to do it eventually, even if I don’t want to, I’m going to ruin everything, it’s not a fucking choice I get, I don’t want to, I don’t want to do it to him again, it looked like it hurt, I did Curls a fucking favor, he asked me to. He said he was shocked I hadn’t killed him yet so I fucking offered. God, god, he was always a better man than me, a better captain, I had to. He said yes. He wanted me to fucking kill him, it had to hurt, it hurt but he was fucking silent, we talk still. He made fun of me but I just wanted to fucking help, I even- I even finished the job for him, killed myself, I don’t get it, I shouldn’t- I did everything he asked for- I deserved it, I know, I ruined him, I offered to make it painless but he didn’t take it. The oxy was strong, I’m sure he knew, I don’t… it’s not fucking fair, he was always better than me. I just wanted to play him music, I didn’t even know he was Curly, I didn’t even know he was the captain, and I’m fucking sorry, I told him, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt him, not once ever. I’ve always wanted to but that was too far, I never wanted him hurt, I had to fix it, his eye, his fucking eye, god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Curly, I just wanted to talk, I never meant it, I’m sorry, I couldn’t even smother you right, I’m fucking sorry, I’m sorry captain, I deserved it, should’ve stayed dead, should’ve taken, I knew when I overdosed it should’ve worked, waste of resources, you could’ve used them, I’m so fucking sorry Curly, I never meant to be here, I should be dead, I’m sorry, captain, better man than me, I love you, I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve- it should’ve been me, I should’ve been ruined, when I crashed, it’s my fault, I should’ve killed us all right, I ruined everything-”

He keeps rambling on, apologies to a man who’s still alive about something he hasn’t even done yet. About crashing the ship because of Her, about ruining everything, about failing to kill everyone when he should have.

About how he has to do it again.

( @number-one-constellation-guide )

Five minutes to DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

The halls echo with furious, heavy footsteps. Wolfrum stalks through the ship, silent, lacking any of his joyous delight or humor. Ironically, his expression mirrors the common iconography of a wolf now, more than ever before.

He clutches the Pony Express approved gun in his left hand, finger soundly on the trigger, and the safety already off.

Pure rage. There's no other description for how he feels. There's nothing less than a hate brewing inside of him, that quickly breeds a mechanical, professional dissociation.

It must be done. There's nothing else to say on the matter - it must be done. It's protocol. It's called for. It's what's good for the group as a whole. The crew can't possibly function with such a danger on board, and they can't be expected to handle it themselves. When he took this role with Pony Express, Wolfrum promised to go toe to toe with any danger he needed to take out, and he meant every word of that promise. Any. Danger.

Which includes this disgusting, rotten, horrible one.

The only thing between him and ripping apart the very walls of the ship to get to that little rat is the navigator in front of him. Perri's dedication to doing things by the script - and not possibly causing a rip in the space-time-anomalous ship which may or may not be facing space at any point in time.

(- @surprise-its-safety-violations , @number-one-constellation-guide )

Behind the sealed door of the cockpit, Jimmy sits with his knees to his chest on the captain's seat. Taser in one hand, rope in the other. They always expect to be attacked from the side when they come in. The front will be a new change. He's a smaller man, he knows how to hide inside Curly's shadow. He's done it for years.

It would probably be easier to steer the ship into oncoming danger, but there... wasn't any. He thought about it, truly, but the option just wasn't there. Space was being space: vast and empty as always.

All his notions of perceived persecution in the past prepared him for this. (He wonders how Curly will feel walking into the cockpit and seeing Jimmy's brains splattered across the screens.) He always knew this was where he was going to be, and figures this was where he was going to stay. (Maybe he could choke Wolfrum out.) That door wasn't opening unless forced, Jimmy wasn't moving unless forced. (Maybe being pistol-whipped into the darkness would be a fucking mercy.)

Really, he was just thinking about all the ways he could die and all the ways someone else could die. It wasn't how he planned on spending his evening, but he often spent them like this anyways, so where's the harm it in. Besides, you know, the weapons and plans to murder people.

@number-one-constellation-guide

[another-clive-blog]

Why are we as a fandom not talking more about this scene ??

Clive is literally asking the professor to come back and stop him. Like this isn't him pretending to be Future Luke : he looks genuinely upset/displeased even after the professor promises to come back. He only goes back to smiling after the professor says, and I quote "I wouldn't dream of leaving things here in that state" before talking about stopping his future self. Clive wants confirmation that Layton is actually going to confront the bad guys, that he won't just solve the mystery but fix it too.

And this is literally so important. Clive's speech at the end, about getting saved. This is concrete proof that he had truly meant it from the start, because he's asking for Layton to stop him and thus save everyone here. Which, hey- he didn't just hope and wait to get saved, he tried to save himself too.

Yep, that's right. The game talks about how dangerous it was for Clive to bring Layton underground : it doesn't talk about how even more dangerous it was to let him leave. He could have brought back cops (he did). He could have gathered precious knowledge out there (he did). He could have never come back (and yet he did !!). Clive letting Layton leave is the biggest threat to his plan, and yet HE DID. And you know what else he did ? Make Layton promise to stop him. You can't make a clearer call for help, you just can't.

"Oh but it doesn't make his crimes more forgivable, now does it-" of course not. This isn't about Clive's redemption, it's about Clive trying to avoid needing a redemption : his efforts are vain the moment he started using the fortress. But. There were efforts.

[cinnamon-bunni]

NOT okay right now im thinking abt pokemon leaving scars on their trainers + everyday, domestic problems.....

[willowfey]

ignore this i just wanna ramble in the tags for a sec i’ll probably delete it in a bit 🤪