#ouch don

[meep-meep-richie]

for someone born to rule, you sure do lose a lot

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 27 - Specter

“ How long does it take for a security cam’s battery to die? “ Raph whispered to his brother as if the camera itself was trying to listen in on their conversation. 

Maybe it was.

“ Six months give or take. Therefore the camera shouldn’t be our focus right now. “ Don whispered back, motioning his head to the box of tools on the bench. He tried to move his feet, gauging how far he would need to stretch in order to reach the tools. Unfortunately the metallic ring of chains sounded harshly in his ears, as his movements were halted by their iron grip on his ankles. 

Ok.. that won’t work.

As Don ran simulations in his brain like a living calculator, Raph was attempting to escape with his own plan: PULL. REALLY. HARD. Don felt his brother’s shell twist and yank accompanied by the sounds of the chains being pulled taut. Raph let out a frustrated growl as his efforts proved to be in vain; No matter how much he yanked or tensed, the metal cuffs remained cemented to his wrists. 

Ok, cross brute force off the list.

Don tried to search for more options.

 Perhaps there’s a stray nail or screw on the floor. I could try picking my cuffs’ lock..

 He winced his eyes forcing his sight to clear as much as it could, peering down to the cold ground below. He targeted his gaze on anything that reflected light. Normally most screws and nails are made of galvanized steel, which is somewhat of a reflective metal. Therefore the thin rays of light peeking through the windows of their cell would cause those particular metals to faintly glow. Unfortunately, after a minute or so of staring at the pixelated ground, and not seeing any reflections of steel, Don gave up on that plan. 

Raph continued to struggle despite the obvious. His fists clenched tighter and tighter as he continued to pull. His shoulders rose with each tug and yank. His movements began as concentrated and calculated, but now they were unpredictable and panicked.

Don leaned back and rested the back of his head on his brother’s.

“ Ochitsuke, Raph. “ he whispered.

The horrible taunts of the ringing chains finally ceased as Raph nodded and dropped his arms to his sides.

“.. Don, I don’t.. I don’t know what to do.. How the shell are we going to get out of here? “ 

Don hated how his older brother’s voice teetered with insecurity. It didn’t help that he, too, was at a loss for words.. And PLANS apparently.

“ It’s fine.. As long as we are alive our brains can function. And as long as our brains can function, then we’ll think of a solution. “

Please believe me.

Don could feel his brother’s soft nod to his words as Raph let out a stress-filled sigh. 

You’re the smart one. Think, Interi. THINK.

If Don could, he would be slamming his forehead into his palm, trying to force ideas into his less-than-efficient-under-stress brain. When given time to think things through, he would normally have an answer to a difficult problem rather quickly. But when stress and a time crunch are involved, his brain betrays him, leaving him scrambling to remember the simplest of knowledge. It was pathetic.

Don and Raph both yanked their heads up harshly at the sound of a door opening nearby. Thankfully, without Don’s vision being at full capacity, his hearing sensitivity heightened to make up for it. 

Yay. I can at least HEAR the psycho who’s gonna kill me.

Now he could hear the haunting sound of those same heavy-duty boots coming closer and closer.

Don turned his face to Raph and whispered, “ NOT. A. WORD. “

A broad- shouldered man with rounded glasses and a tar-like coat entered quietly into Don and Raph’s cell carrying a briefcase. The light of the hallway behind him created a distorted silhouette bordering his form, making Don wince from the brightness. Both his and his brother’s body straightened like warriors preparing for battle. 

The Man politely closed the door, closely followed by a subtle click of the lock behind him as he walked up to his captives. With the light of the hallway now closed off, shadows consumed the Man’s form as he strolled closer to the brothers. The slim rays weaseling through the windows reflected in his glasses, masking the Man’s eyes in a bright white. He pulled out a small stool hidden behind the bench, and calmly sat down, placing his briefcase at his side.

“ You must have many questions as to why my team apprehended you. After all, normally in this fair city, the street scraps are left to fend for themselves. Picked off.. one by one.. by the many gangs wandering the alleys. “ 

The Man began caressing his briefcase with long, bony fingers.

“.. So, what, you may ask yourselves, makes you.. so .. special? What gives you the opportunity to be in the presence of ones with such intelligence, such as myself? “

Don and Raph gave an unamused glance to each other. Both had a whole lineup of insults to throw at this narcissist, but their mouths remained shut. 

The Man stands up with a thin growing smile and walks over to Don, covering the mutant in his towering shadow. Raph allowed a single low growl to escape his lips instead of the slew of crude nicknames piling up one by one in his head. 

“ Oh come now, I won’t harm you..

.. yet. “

In one terrifyingly quick motion, the Man shot out his hand, gripping Don’s face with his skeleton-like fingers. Raph’s growl grew louder. 

Don watched in silent horror as his face was studied by his captor like an organism under a microscope, lifting his chin painfully to scan over every corner and crevice. The chill of the Man’s fingers sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, like an evil spirit had phased through his body. 

“ With such specimens as yourselves, it would be quite foolish to take you apart in a dusty garage without my.. tools. No, no, the real fun will begin once I take you to my laboratory. “

Don didn’t like the sound of that one bit. And judging by the ferocious crescendoing snarl of his brother, Raph felt the same. 

The Man let go of Don’s face and eerily shifted towards Raph. The red-clad brother replaced his snarls with a glare so concentrated it would make milk curdle.

I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

“ Oooh, “ the Man taunted, pointing at the furious mutant, “ did I make the red one angry? “

Raph targeted all the rage and intimidation he could salvage into his piercing glare. Despite his attempts, the Man continued on as if nothing happened.

“ Well, going by your pitiful attempt at intimidating me, I will assume this must be someone you care about.” The Man gestured to Don, “ Perhaps your brother based on the ridiculous matching masks? ..Am I close? “

Raph and Don kept their mouths in a thin but planted line.

“ Hmm, “ the Man shrugged, “ Alright, not very talkative. Very well. “

The Man proceeded to return to his stool retrieving his briefcase, and placing it on his lap. With a few button clicks, it opened with a slight hiss, releasing a puff of cold air.

Don ran through all possibilities in his brain of items that would need to be kept in air tight containers and under cold temperatures.

..Sedatives..

Judging by the growing smile creeping up the Man’s face, Don knew he was right. 

WE HAVE TO ACT NOW.

Now it was Don’s turn to begin pulling and yanking on his chains. He knew it wouldn’t do anything. He KNEW. But despite the logic trying to take control of his brain, his panicked heart remained in control.

The Man rose up off his stool and began walking towards Don. The purple clad turtle’s vision morphed the Man’s form into that of a faceless specter, slowly wrapping his towering shadow over the mutant’s body. The panicked sounds of pulled chains became louder, melding with the calculated footsteps drawing closer and closer.

WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!!

For the second time today, a gun was held to Don’s head. 

“ This is just something to help you sleep.. Nothing more than a concentrated sedative, so no need to panic. “ The Man’s words whispered compassion, but his voice screeched with threat. 

Don’s heart began to pummel at his chest as the gun-like contraption the Man was holding was pointed at the mutant’s thigh. 

NO! 

With a pull of the trigger, Don felt a horrible sting spread throughout his leg. The needle in the device penetrated his skin almost like his epipen back at home. But unlike his medication, the solution being forced into his body was unknown. That fear alone made the sting hurt so much worse. He hated himself for allowing the man to see him flinch under the discomfort.

As for Raph..

.. The word ‘ hate ’ wouldn’t even begin to explain the fury raging through his brother’s body. Raph was now baring his fangs in all their sharp glory, as the Man pulled away the device , leaving a small dot of blood on Don’s leg. 

The freckled brother subtly began to sway, feeling whatever drugs running through his bloodstream beginning to activate. His head began to ring with a high pitched hum as it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. 

STAY AWAKE. DON’T GO TO SLEEP. STAY AWAKE.

The Man walked up to Raph as he waved the device tauntingly at the slowly-growing-feral mutant. Raph had given him plenty of warnings. And there’s always a point with Don’s fiery brother when his patience snaps like a thin twig under the crackles of a flame. 

This is that point.

As the Man began positioning the device to Raph’s thigh, the flame consuming the mutant’s protective heart burst as he lunged his knee up, making the man’s hand jolt upward.

Right in front of Raph’s mouth.

With a harsh *SCRUNCH* Raph's fangs plunged deep into the Man’s hand that was holding the device. For once, their captor actually reacted, giving an annoyed grunt as he jolted from the pain burning his hand where Raph’s fangs remained planted. But despite the discomfort of the angry mutant’s teeth, the Man continued to stand tall, pushing aside Raph’s attack as a minor inconvenience.

“ Aww. It thinks it can escape. Well, what’s your plan then, mutant? Hold me down as your brother here goes for the keys that I don’t have? How much of a fool do you think I am? “

Despite the Man’s hand still being wedged into Raph’s teeth, the mutant began to smile menacingly.

“ Wrong answer, freak. “

Just like with Don, the man moved with quick and precise movements, trading off the device from the hand in Raph’s mouth to his other. He pulled the trigger. Raph was given more reason to bite down harder as the sharp sting penetrated his leg. 

The Man removed the device from Raph’s thigh and threw it to the side, and then reached deep into his black, robe-like coat. He pulled out what was definitely an actual gun, pointing it at Don’s head.

“ This will cause far more harm than the injector, I assure you. “ The Man’s voice didn’t waver the slightest, staying calm and to the point, as Raph’s bite continued to sink deeper. 

“ Now. Drop it, boy. Drop it like a good little dog. “

Raphael’s shoulders rose in hostility as his brain ran through the situation.

Does he WANT his hand to get bitten off??? 

With another growl, and a slight gag, Raphael released the Man’s bony fingers from his mouth. Don hazily watched as his brother proceeded to spit the Man’s own blood into his face. 

Everything was becoming so slow.. The Man’s form continued to alter and blur as Don’s vision slowly faded into darkness.

NO. NOT NOW! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!! STAY AWAKE!!

Don didn’t even realize his eyes were closed now. His body slowly slumped against his will. The ghostly voice of the Man began to echo in his brain as he fought with all his might to keep his eyes open. He could feel Raph’s body beginning to fade too..

STAY AWAKE!!!!!!!

Don continued to fight against the sedative as best he could, trying to keep his body constantly in motion. He yanked at his chains and turned his head to keep an eye on his fading brother, who was trying to do the same. But as the minutes ticked by, their movements grew more sluggish; their heads slowly lowered with their eyelids.

Stay……awakeee…

“ That’s it. Go to sleep. Dream of your family. Your friends, if you have any. Relive all those wonderful memories.. “ The Man whispered into Don’s ear as he finally lost his fight with the consuming shadows, 

“.. For when you wake,

 your true nightmare will begin. “

That's it for this chapter. :) MAN ALIVE- I have been EXCITED to show you guys this one!! This is the first time I've written for a chapter with the physical appearance of a villain.. And I think, ( and hope ) that you were left with a sense of dread for poor Don and Raph.. And- yeah, you'll be feeling that for a while with the chapters I have planned. ;)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[helpmycatisblue]

[reallifeorfantasy97]

"... the machine was here. I was not."

cass, a professional: order of badass donbot, extra dramatic entrance!

me, nodding, banned from most kitchens: leo drama and angst, heard chef!

(shoutout to @somerandomdudelmao for yet again making feel emotions i cannot fully explain)

[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!

[yerimbrit]

here's the mistletoe (so go on and kiss me twice) : p. hanni

synopsis: it's last minute christmas decorating with your friends, and, as always, anything and everything is an opportunity for you to tease your girlfriend.

# : pairing ! nonidol!pham hanni x fem!reader

# : tags ! fluff fluff and more fluff, would you like a side of fluff with your order of fluff? yeah?, christmas decorating, short jokes (directed at hanni wbk), ft newjeans

# : wordcount ! 1.5k

# : warnings ! none

for the first time ever in the two years that you've been living with each other, all members of your friend group are home for christmas. obviously, you guys want to make it special, right? decorating the moment it hits midnight on the first of the jolly month?

...except everyone's been busy with finals and whatnot, and the only day that all six of you are free is the 23rd. two days before christmas, and a day before christmas eve.

early this morning, minji and haerin went out to go buy a tree. and you'll give it to them, it's a damn pretty looking tree. it leaves just enough room to spare for the topper to breathe, and it's body is the ideal shape for a christmas tree—like the ones you'd see on those holiday cards. putting those two on tree-hunting duty was a good idea, even if they were decided from losing a game of slapjack.

(that day still gives you the shivers. the air around haerin as she chose her victim to accompany her on her expedition was absolutely chilling.)

the rest of the jobs were decided by first come, first served. unfortunately, danielle and hyein called dibs on baking all of the sweet treats and pastries for the party, so that left you and hanni for decorations.

look, you love hanni. she's a wonderful friend and an even lovelier girlfriend. it's just... you know, with all the decorating... how are you supposed to resist making short jokes targeted towards her when everything gives you a chance to? and that's exactly how your trip to home depot went. every other aisle would have you lightly teasing your vertically challenged girlfriend, and every other aisle would have her scolding you or landing a half-hearted punch on your shoulder. ouch.

"you guys sure are late," hyein jokingly crosses her arms upon your arrival. her mask breaks almost immediately, and she has to stifle a giggle. there's spots of flour on her face, and danielle, who is beaming next to her, has pink frosting smeared on her cheek. looks like their baking session went a little haywire.

hanni huffs, swinging a horridly orange home depot branded bag over her shoulder to set down next to the freshly installed tree. "do you know how crowded home depot is on christmas eve eve?"

"must've been hard reaching for the last box of ornaments," minji snorts, leaning over from her spot on the couch to try to peek inside the reusable bag. hanni swats her hand away and proceeds to point and laugh at the ugly christmas sweater that the taller has donned.

you giggle at their interaction before placing the rest of the orange bags next to the one hanni put down and make a beeline to the open kitchen, where a tray of warm and decorated cookies lay. there's a broken snowflake-shaped cookie with unsightly neon turquoise frosting pasted messily on top, and you decide to put it out of its misery by plopping it in your mouth. "mmh, warm, buttery, and sweet. as expected, you two."

the baker pair share a proud look and a fistbump, and then a voice sounds out from right beside you alongside a crunch. "these are good."

startled, you look to your right and haerin's staring right at you with a gingerbread man—headless, because she bit off its head—pinched in a hold between her pointer and her thumb. you press a hand to your heart, "when did you get here!?"

she ignores your question, instead walking away to peer into the products you and hanni reaped from the warehouse. if you listened closely, you could hear the feline quietly hum the home depot theme song. unbelievable.

minji tries to start something, likely about how haerin got to look before she did, but danielle interrupts before she can even let a second word of complaint escape her lips. "let's get decorating!"

with the sunshine's interruption, the group breaks into laughter and minji takes the three orange bags to the dining table where their contents can be spilled out. ornaments, string lights in both tacky rainbow colors and the neat white ones, and other little trinkets and decorations—you really just grabbed everything that was left, not that it was a bad thing! it's just... really random compared to everything else.

"whoever's last has to decorate the tree," danielle calls out, a small smile settling on her face, and she places her finger on the tip of her nose, "not it!"

you got caught off-guard, and that ultimately leaves you as the last one standing. even haerin's in on it, the little devil—she's developing her own characteristic shit-eating grin and it's starting to piss you off.

"you're out, y/n," minji laughs, and her eyes subtly snap between you and hanni, "pick someone to work with you."

your gaze trails over to your girlfriend, who frantically shakes her head in distress. 'no,' she signals with her eyes, 'please don't pick me.'

hyein waves a swaying hand in front of you, a teasing glint in her eyes, "don't take too long picking, unnie, or else the beautiful tree they picked will be all for naught!"

well, you didn't have to be told twice. "hanni."

"nooooo!"

"i can't believe you chose me. i mean, couldn't you tell i didn't want to be picked? my own girlfriend betraying me, how could you?" the shorter girl grumbles, handing you an ornament to hang on a higher section of the tree. the two of you have worked through almost all of it after hanging four sets of string lights, two multicolored, two white.

"it's not that bad, han," you chuckle, expertly looping the red ornament's string around a branch. the leaves brush against your skin and it's electrifying—in a good way, of course. "besides, this way you don't have to complain about what kind of placement minji or hyein decided on, yeah? plus, you're the perfect height to reach those bottom branches."

hanni gasps in offense, her jaw dropped. "i'm not that short!" and she hands you the last ornament to hang: an otter with a santa hat.

you grin, taking it from her hand and pointing at the small plush, "this one looks like you."

"really?" she furrows her eyebrows.

you hold it up next to her face for comparison. "definitely."

after putting the otter plush in an empty-looking spot in the middle of the tree, you pick up a star topper and present it to your girlfriend, who looks at you with a deadpan stare. "you're not actually asking me to put it on, are you?"

"i'm deadass," you smile, "take it, i'll help you up."

hanni stares at you for a bit longer, as if she were waiting for you to break your expression and claim that it was a joke. unfortunately for her, you don't, only pushing the topper into her hands. "how are we even going to—ah, what the hell!"

you've gone and easily lifted your girlfriend up by the waist, just enough so that she could reach the top of the tree. she squirms in your hold, and you giggle at her struggle. "hurry up, han!"

"okay, okay! move forward a little, will you?"

with your help, hanni manages to perfectly place the star on top of the tree and returning her to the ground earns you a satisfied hum and a hug, which you reciprocate. out of character, but not unwelcome.

now done with the tree, you can finally look around to your surroundings where the entire house has been christmasified: string lights, plushies with santa hats, a winter village on the windowsill on top of a white cloth resembling snow, and a train track on another windowsill. there's shuffling from below you, and you lock eyes with haerin who gradually rises from her brief squatting position on the ground. a smirk slowly takes over your face. hanni tilts her head in confusion.

the feline stands on her tiptoes to dangle the mistletoe above you and hanni's heads, and once the smaller girl realizes what the plant was, her face explodes into a multitude of reds and pinks.

the others, witnessing this scene unfold, start chanting and playfully raising their fists. "kiss! kiss! kiss!"

you press your forehead against your girlfriend's. "looks like we have no choice but to kiss, hanni."

her eyes soften. "you're saying it like it's a chore."

you shake your head slightly in disbelief, scoffing. "i'm just saying, it's an honor to ki-"

before you could finish your sentence, you feel the fabric of your shirt get tugged forward, and soon you feel a soft pair of lips pressed against your own. the kiss is soothing but exciting, and you lean into the familiar warmth. nothing else mattered in that moment, all you can focus on is the way she tastes like mint—it's only a bit embarrassing that you might taste like the sweet buttercream cookie that you had earlier.

a burst of cheers erupt from around you, causing you to break away from the kiss. but you don't pay any mind to the others—instead, you pull hanni closer into an affectionate hug. you lean forward to brush your lips across her ear, smiling at how quickly it turns red from her blush.

"merry christmas, han."

hanni buries her face into your shoulder. "merry christmas, y/n."

a/n : MERRY CHRISTMAS it's still technically christmas for me so i'm not late I SWEAR ok i know that I said i wouldn't write any more fluff but that was a lie... i would be a devil if i ruined the holiday spirit with angst happy holidays!!

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[paperyowl]

This is a weird ask. Feel free to ignore it.

But post breakup Buck staring at Rockon thinking Tommy has a date with this hot silver daddy (he ain't blind) and confronted them cos he's jealous to find out he was wrong. They bought him home for either a threesome (cos David never had one) or maybe just cuddles cos looks at the sad puppy and doting on Buck.

(what buck doesn't know is that Donovan is Tommy's cousin with a hilarious sense of humor who texted him the very next day to collect his man cos he ain't sharing his daddy with his cousin's ex no matter how pretty he is)

It's not weird at all. I love the idea! And I have two vastly different thoughts for this - lets go with this one for now. (I might have changed it a little bit - but I definitely need that threesome happening sometime still.)

+++

Pick up, idiot.

Calling me names doesn't make me want to talk to you more.

Tommy dropped his phone somewhere on the couch, not really bothering to check where it fell. He was not in the mood for his cousin's antics. His week had been so busy that Tommy was aching in more places than he knew he could. Maybe was is getting too old for this job.

Or perhaps he'd been slacking. Not eating well, not sleeping enough. These days, Tommy is usually good at taking care of himself. A hard-learnt habit, but he'd put in the work.

Not that it mattered now when his mind kept circling back to the rather sweet sentiment of someone saying, 'You don't have to do everything by yourself' and 'I'll take care of you'.

It was a certain someone with those impossibly warm baby blues that Tommy was trying very hard not to think about. (And failing miserably.) He deserved this. After all, he'd been the one to implode what they had.

His phone kept buzzing. After the third or fourth time - which frankly was ridiculous Don, what the fuck, get a life - Tommy hunted it down in the cushions and unlocked it.

Only to almost drop it when he saw the last message was a photo of -

"Hi, cuz," Donovan drawled, sounding deeply satisfied with himself. But Tommy wasn't focused on that at all.

"How do you have a photo of Evan? Is he there with you? Why is he with you?"

"Okay, first of all, ouch, I think I'm insulted-"

"Donovan."

Tommy heard his own voice rise and wondered since his fuse had become this short. Then he remembered that Donovan had always had this way of riling him up. That's why they hadn't talked in months. They'd been fighting about something; Tommy couldn't really remember what it had been about.

"Figured that pic would get you to call me," Donovan said. "No 'Hello, my favourite cousin, how are you doing?' It's nice to hear you, too, you know."

"Don't be mean, Rocker," another voice said in the background, one that Tommy didn't know. Or actually, he might - he'd heard it once before, and now he could remember what the fight had been about. But his focus was somewhere else completely.

"Hi. How are you. It's been too long. I miss you - is Evan okay?"

Donovan laughed at the way only one of those sentences ended in a note high enough to count as a question. Tommy hissed his name again, and finally got a 'yeah, yeah, alright.' before the phone was handed off to -

"Hi," Evan said softly. He sounded like he'd been crying. His sniffeling was hard on Tommy. "Your cousin and his partner are nice."

Tommy couldn't help but scoff. "Maybe they're doppelgängers."

There is a momentary pause, and Tommy is almost certain that the rustling he hears is a bit of a grapple for the phone. But it's still Evan on the other end when the noise dies down.

"I wouldn't know about that," Evan said. "You never mentioned them."

Fuck.

"Evan-"

"So we're back to Evan?"

"Bu-"

"Don't," Evan pleaded. "Just. Don't."

"Want me to go and rough him up a little? I still remember where he lives."

Donovan's offer sounded weak, and Tommy could imagine the way he had probably put a hand on Evan's shoulder. Or his back.

Evan didn't exactly laugh, but it was similar enough. The sound still unravelled something in Tommy's chest.

"Can we talk in person?"

"I'd like that," Evan breathed. "Just maybe not tonight?"

"Of course. Do you want me to text-"

"I'll take over from here," Donovan said, and Tommy vaguely heard the muffled noise of the receiver being covered. He checked his watch, aware that whatever conversation happened on their end took less than a minute, but to Tommy, it felt like ages more.

"You free tomorrow? Wanna come over for lunch?" Donovan asked without any lead-up, startling Tommy a little. "I somehow think you have a bit more of a reason to say 'yes' this time."

Tommy huffed a laugh.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm free," he said. "Is he alright?"

"Are you going to stop being an idiot?"

"Don."

Donovan sighed. "Listen, I know it's not really my place, but I know you, and I can make an educated guess what happened here."

"I don't like you," Tommy groused.

And like the total bastard that he was, Donovan only laughed and responded, "But you love him."

Like that was a normal thing to say. Tommy spluttered.

"Just be here tomorrow at noon, I'll cook" Donovan completely ignored Tommy's rather childish comment, 'You can cook?' and just went on. "And I'll introduce you to Deacon."

"The ominous partner that you wouldn't tell me more about when I asked?"

That was a rather shortened version of the outright shouting match of a phone call that they'd had all those weeks ago. There had been a lot of implications about very different, and Donovan wouldn't even tell him the name of the man who had him all secretive.

It was easy to read between the lines, and perhaps Tommy had been protective in exactly the wrong way. But he'd never been able to help that when it came to Donovan. The only family member that Tommy cared about.

"He just filed for divorce," Donovan told him. Tommy hissed in sympathy, starting to apologize for the whole fight, but Donovan went on: "And you wouldn't believe the things he can do with his tong-"

"Shut up."

Donovan kept laughing at him, and Tommy felt too exhausted to do something about it. And perhaps a little relieved.  

"Noon, you said?"

He might have only imagined it, but Donovan softened a little after that. But he proved he was still an absolute asshole when he yelled out, 'Hey Evan, say goodnight to your daddy,' and like the absolute cheeky brat he was, Evan did just that. (Tommy almost choked on his own spit, but after hanging up, he felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in months.)

[sciencegothic]

okay, okay, so—

no one asked for it, but here is every mention of hunger/food/eating/drinking in epic, and how i think it all ties to the overarching themes of the narrative; a needlessly long post:

throughout the troy saga, food is repeatedly brought up as it is necessary to the survival of the fleet. at this point, they’ve just emerged from war and have not yet faced the atrocities that will later befall them, thus, searching for food is their biggest priority and largest concern at that point. this is the beginning of the motif of food in relation to the desperation of the characters. lack of food makes them desperate, hunger is desperation. (the lotus eaters quite literally echo this need back to them)

(post continues under the cut, image IDs are in ALT text)

here is our first instance of how food, although necessary, can just as much be dangerous. this foreshadows later on when we see circe’s meal have ill effect on the soldiers. here though, odysseus is the one to notice this, he has not yet reached a point of desperation where he is acting irrationally

knowing now what will unfold in this cave, this specific conversation surrounding food is almost a damnation. as we see later in the songs, food can be associated with death as much as with life

much like with the revelation of the lotus, we see, although he maybe should have considered the danger before entering the cave, odysseus is still at a point where he can think rationally in relation to the food

not a whole lot to say here, though i suppose it’s interesting that where before now food has been treated as a source of saving the men, now the cyclops threatens turning them to food, this it now represents death

not food but now drink is being offered as a peace offering, yet again consumption represents life and survival, as odysseus offers the wine as a means to spare his men

circe uses food as a means of luring in the men. it’s something they’ve been longing for - desperate for - for so long, that now they don hesitate to eat without any rational consideration of potential dangers. like with the lotus, the food - although veiled as being salvation, is dangerous. and like with the cyclops’ threats, it hails something ominous

now, again, food is shown as being a powerful, hopeful thing. in this case, the flower hermes gives odysseus to eat quite literally acts as a means of salvation, offering him a way to fight circe. again and again, eating is beyond a means of just quelling hunger, but necessary to survival

odysseus relays how the sirens planned to prove their power by “turning [the] men into snacks”, only to contrast this s few lines later with “we are the ones who feast now”, as he and his men are the ones who have gained the upper hand. here, eating directly represents power

the repetition of “hunger is so heavy” from the men mirrors how we first see them, hungry. but here its so much worse, here they’re so much more desperate. even after whta happened with the sheep before, they cannot think rationally now. they just want to eat. they’re hungry, and that hunger is heavy and it begs them to eat. (also, jorge has said that eurylochus “instrument” in the musical is the voices of the solders. here, them echoing his words reinforces just how desperate and hungry he, specifically, is, as though he is really trying to get it across to odysseus) (ouch)

eurylochus dies the same way he was introduced in the musical - hungry. one of his first lines is him telling odysseus that the men are hungry, and now he tells ody that he is starving. but where the first time he still has the hope to search for food, now he is defeated. he’s giving up. he’s desperate, but he’s exhausted too. he’s trying to plead with ody, or maybe just explain why he’s about to do what he does. he’s starving, he just wants it to end

and finally, zeus looks to odysseus to tell him that the hunger is too great now. desperation is too high. and who pays the price for that? when all of them are so desperate and hungry, will odysseus choose to quench his own needs, or spare his crew and let them feast? where one god used food to trick the men and another offered it as a means of salvation, now a third holds it over their heads’ as a taint - look at how the mighty have come to this

okay. so, uh. yeah.

[howi99]

Circus Light chapter 1

Boyish voice: Do you think he's alright?

Man voice: Well, i doubt it since he just came down crashing from the sky-

Boyish voice: *excited* Oi, that's a sword he got there! Now wouldn't that go for a pretty penny?

Jaune: *opening his eyes, seeing a teenager with Crocea mors in their hands* H-hey- *tries to move, but the pain in his body paralyses him* Ow... *Sigh* Please don't steal my stuff...

Teen: *looking at the guy on the ground, who couldn't be that much older than her* You're alive?

Jaune: *wincing* If the pain is any indication, then yes... *Taking in his surroundings, seeing the destroyed tent* Where... Am i?

Teen: *smirking* The Noah's ark circus!

Jaune: A... circus? *Sigh* Guess that explains the tent everywhere.

Man: *turn to the teen* We should get him to Doc, he probably needs some help.

Jaune: *sigh* No no, no need for that. Just give me a minute.

Man: You clearly have a concussion and- *shield his eyes, the light from Jaune's aura blinding him* What the-

Jaune: *taking a deep breath, then jumping back up* See? Like new!

Teen: *speechless*

Man: *confused*

Jaune: *scratching hid head* Are you ok you tw-

Teen: That was awesome! *Clapping her hands together* What a nice showing of prestidigitation!

Jaune: *perplexed* Presti-what?

Teen: *smiling* Prestidigitation! Sleight of hand and whatnot!

Jaune: *scratching his head* I just used aura to heal myself, it's not a big deal-

Teen 2: Prestidigitation, Yes! That must be it! *Smiling at his friend* Freckles, maybe we should present him to Joker?

Freckles: *beaming* Yeah, that's a great idea, Dagger!

Jaune: ... What?

_ later _

Joker: *examining the young knight, talking to himself* Well, he doesn't seem to have any injuries-

Jaune: *deadpan* It's the third time i told you that i just healed myself using aura. *Point at himself* I'm a huntsman, who kipl grimms.

Joker: ... A huntsman who kill what?

Jaune: *flabbergasted* What do you mean, "Kill what?"!? The grimms!

Joker: ...?

Jaune: *roll his eyes* Where the hell did that locker bring me, the only place on Remnant without a trace of grimm?

Freckles: Remnant? Of what?

Jaune: ... *Sigh* Is this a prank from Cardin? Or a weird dream- *getting pinched by Freckles* ouch!

Dagger: *smiling* Are you awake?

Jaune: Then it's a prank. *Sigh* Can you guys point me to the direction of Beacon?

Joker: *perplexed* You want us to show you the direction of a concept?

Jaune: *annoyed* Beacon, the academy! You know, the most prestigious school in the biggest city in the world, Vale?

Dagger: *whispering to Freckles* Ever heard of Vale?

Freckles: *whispering* Nope, you?

Dagger: *shaking his head* Neither do i.

Jaune: *groan* Fine, i'll figure it out myself. *Walk outside the tent*

Joker: *scratching his head* I wonder what's-

Jaune: *panicked voice from outside* THE MOON IS WHOLE AGAIN!? WHERE THE FUCK AM I!?

Joker: *Blinking* ... And you said he fell from the sky?

Freckles: *worried* Maybe he's having a concussion?

Jaune: *re-entering the tent, completely drained of color* ... I don't think i'm in Remnant anymore...

Dagger: *snapping his fingers* Don Quixote! That should be his stage name!

Jaune: *fall on the ground, having lost consciousness*

Freckles: *deadpan* You do know you don't have any takt, do you?

[painsandconfusion]

Forced Comfort

Because who doesn't like a little bit of intimate whumper vibes?

[Prompt Masterpost]

Whumpee wrapped up in a blanket. The soft fabric hides the fact that their hands are still bound behind their back.

Gentle fingers brushing the hair from Whumpee’s face - carefully peeling it back through the sheen of sweat that’s left.

“Shhh…you’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you anymore..”

Kissing tears from the corners of Whumpee’s eyes.

Whumper keeping Whumpee sedated between sessions to 'help them cope'.

“Hold still- hold still or I’ll start again.”

Pinning a squirming Whumpee in an embrace. Grip tightening the more they struggle. 

Whumpee being so tired. So so so very tired. They can’t help but lean into the gentle touch. 

Whumper ignoring every shiver and twitch that accompanies the gentle pets they give their broken toy.

“Nnnnono-sst…d-on’ t ouchme-!”

Whumpee thrashing to the point of hyperventilation as Whumper wraps them up in blankets. The panic in their eyes ever so slowly fading as they realize they’re not being hurt anymore.

Whumpee desperately not trying to lean into it or accept the comfort. They don’t want it from them - don’t want to melt into the hands that ripped screams from them just a few minute before. But they need something. And Whumper knows it.

“Look at you. Pathetic little thing~”

Shoving Whumpee into a bath to trigger some kind of calming response. Whumpee just thinks they’re going to be drowned. …….maybe they will be. Just a little bit.

Whumper combing a hand through Whumpee’s hair - soft and rhythmic and sweet - as they carve into Whumpee.

“Shhh..just focus on me. Don’t look at  it- just look at me. Listen to my voice. You’re doing so good, little one.”

Kisses peppering over Whumpee’s cheeks, lips, forehead, brows, jaw, etc as their face puckers up, trying to twist away. 

A hug that looks gentle until you notice Whumper’s hand fisted in Whumpee’s hair. Keeping them exactly in place.

“Don’ don t t-ouch me- STOP-”

Drugging Whumpee to ‘help with the nerves’. Watching their panicked sobs slowly peter out into nothing as they stare miserably at their captor. 

“Make the most of this. We start again in the morning.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35 @scribbelle)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

[koolades-world]

Hii! It's good to have you back! I hope you're having a great day/night :))

Well, my request is, could you do 11 with Solomon, Lucifer or Mammon?

I love your stuff and I hope you have a merry Christmas! Thanks and have a good day/night :)

HIIII so great to hear from you, and it's great to be back! you are truly a real one <3 thank you for making a request!

i decided to go with mammon, because i'll be doing this prompt again tomorrow (probably with solomon) because one of my very lovely friends made a request for this prompt too!!!!

prompt 11 w/ mammon

"Where is the gingerbread house kit?" You yelled up the stairs at Mammon while riffeling through the grocery bags.

"Check the bag with the sprinkles!" He shouted back.

"I can't find those either!" The two of you had just gotten back from a shopping trip, where along with groceries, the two of you made last minute plans to spend the rest of your afternoon building a gingerbread house after seeing the kit in the store. It was on sale, for whatever reason, and once Mammon confessed he'd never build one, you promptly added it to your cart. Although, now it seemed an awful lot like you’d forgotten the bag at the store.

“The blue bag!” Mammon had insisted on changing into something more ‘festive’ for your afternoon plans. He even said he had something for you.

Sure enough, although you’d felt as if you’d already checked the blue bag, the gingerbread house kit and the sprinkles were in there. “Found it, thanks!” You dug it out, and began to brainstorm where you might be able to put it together. The most obvious choice might seem like the kitchen, but there you risked Beel finding you. There’d be nothing left of the house if he came across it. There was also the dining room, but then you knew for sure one of this brothers would butt in. You didn’t mind all too much, but you knew Mammon would veto that idea.

“Alright, I’m ready.” Mammon’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs. You looked up, and saw him in possible they oddest outfit you’d ever seen him in. He donned a large red Santa jacket and hat, topped off with a fake beard. For whatever reason, he didn’t have red pants to complete the look, so he wore a pair of bummy pair of basketball shorts you’d seen him in a million times at this point.

“Mammon, where did you get that?” You could hardly hold back your laughter.

“What’d ya mean? I’m ready.” He put his hands on his hips, and on the way down the stairs, he nearly tripped and face planted directly into the pile of bags at the base of the stairs.

“I mean, it’s cute?” You leaned forward and pulled the fake beard away from his face, letting it snap back. He let out a quick ouch and rubbed his face before doing his best to recover.

“Of course it is! The Great Mammon wouldn’t do any less.” He grabbed your arm and began dragging you off down the hall.

“So, where are we headed, Santa?” He turned back to look at you after your words, like the answer was obvious.

“Yer room. Where else? Ya got a table, chairs, and a lock to keep my pesky brothers out.” You scoffed a little at his remark. That lock really didn’t do much to keep any of them out. It was really just your way of asking them to stay out, but they almost never respected that unless you sounded really insistent.

“If that’s what you want.” You allowed him to tote you into your room, and snap the door shut behind the both of you. He sat you down, and the way he read the back of the box so seriously while in the stupid Santa outfit made you laugh again.

“What?” He looked at you like he didn’t know what was so funny. Again, you reached out to yank his beard, but was stopped. “If yer gonna keep laughing, I’m gonna take it off.” He was protective of his fake beard, maybe because he was unable to grow his own.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get started. I promise, you’ll love doing this so much.” The two of you got started on the house building. It was much easier with a second set of hands, but that didn’t mean you got everything the first try. Since you were more experienced in the art of building the house itself (not by much), you applied the glue-like frosting, while Mammon held it together. He whined a little at first that he felt he should get to use the icing, but after he saw how much you were struggling, he shut his mouth. Once that step was done, however, the fun started.

First, you worked on the front together. You showed him just how you’d done it as a kid. He nodded along, and happily helped you create a wreath that slowly slide down the house, just as it always did. The two of you took great joy from creating a couple cute windows, and a door. Once that was done, you moved onto the roof. You scalloped it using the frosting, and completed the look with colorful gumdrops and off-brand mnms.

“What are you doing now?” You’d each taken one side of the house, opposite from each other so you could surprise the other. You were shocked that the beard was still mostly on his face, and that he hadn’t taken it off so he could focus better. It was dangerous close to dragging in the stray puddles of frosting that’d happened during the construction of the house.

“Ya just have to wait and see.” He peaked over the roof of the house, and smiled at you. You rolled your eyes, but still smiled back. Once it was time to reveal what his finishing touches to the house were, he proudly spun the house around to present you with a crude, but cute icing drawing of the two of you standing next to the house.

"Awwww! Mammon, you are adorable." Rather than object like he usually would, he tried his best to look everywhere but at you. "Mine isn't nearly as cute, but I think I did a good job." You spun the house back the other way to show him what you'd done. It was simple, with a candy cane fence and windows that look like they were melting. Not perfect, but charming.

Mammon mumbled something under his breath after you presented your side of the house to him. After you gave him a knowing look, he repeated himself. "It's cute, but you're cuter." He promptly turned his entire body away from you, facing a wall rather than you. You could almost laugh at how cheesy that line was. You wondered just how long he'd been saving that to use on you.

Instead of trying to verbally convince him to face you again, you walked around the table and plopped down beside him. Since he was still wearing that stupid looking beard, you pulled it down to give him a kiss on the cheek. He nearly went as red as the jacket he was wearing. "You're such a dork. I love you." You planted another kiss on his nose.

He used the little bit left he had in him to give a kiss and a response back. "Love you too."

[saetoshi]

contrary to popular belief, nagi seishiro does not enjoy being home alone. (nor does he look forward to being home alone.)

at least, not after you moved in with him.

he thinks it’s a bit funny, actually, how he managed to live his whole life without you around only to feel empty when you’re gone. (or maybe he’s just too sleepy to think properly.)

he groggily reaches for his phone. his eyes widen when he realizes it’s not even eight a.m. yet.

his eyes droop as he sends you a text to check if you arrived at the train station. he frowns a bit when you tell him you’re on your way to your parent’s house.

he’d secretly hoped that there were no trains going out, and that your only option would be to head back home to him. (he’d also hoped that would’ve meant you’d cuddle him all day long.)

he hates it when you’re not home. he hates it so much.

he can’t sleep properly when you’re gone. (a bold faced lie, you’d told him when he first whined to you about it.)

he pouts at the picture of you in the screen, finger hovering over the call button. he doesn’t think about it for too long before deciding to call you.

the line doesn’t ring for long before you pick up. he doesn’t even let you say something first.

“when are you coming home?”

his face softens when he hears your laughter through the phone.

“sei,” you sigh, “i just left.”

he huffs, “‘s not what i asked.”

“i’ll be back tomorrow.”

he groans. you laugh. (he doesn’t find it funny. in fact, it just makes him miss you more.)

“seishiro,” you start, “it’s just one day.”

“‘s too long.” he pouts.

“you’ll be fine,” you comfort.

“what if i’m not?”

“then call reo,” you offer, “he’ll help you out.”

“he solves things with money,” he sniffles, “you solve things with love.”

you snort, “i only do that because we’ve got no money.”

he laughs softly, “ouch.”

there’s a brief pause.

nagi yawns, “i miss you.”

he can practically see your chest puff out with satisfaction.

“do you, now?” a small smile blooms on his face when he hears your smug tone.

“yeah,” he yawns again, “miss you a lot.”

“well,” your voice sounds gentle, “i miss you a lot too.”

“we can go to that place you wanted when you get back.” (he’s yawning an awful lot by now.)

he hears you hum in agreement. his eyes start drooping.

“we can play this game i got too,” his voice is laced with sleepiness.

“you’re getting awfully chatty,” you yawn.

he drowsily hums, “don’ wanna hang up.”

“sei,” your voice sounds soothing, “you’re clearly half-asleep.”

“no ‘m not.”

“seishiro.”

he yawns, “can’t sleep without you.”

“liar,” he can hear the smile on your lips, “you’re falling asleep right now.”

there’s a pause after that. you call his name, he quietly grunts in response.

“i’ll tell you what,” you sigh, “i’m gonna stay with you until you fall asleep.”

“promise?” his voice is groggy.

“i promise.”

his eyes are fully closed by now, and he’s barely even conscious. still, a smile makes its way to his face when he hears your soft humming through the phone.

there’s only one thing on his mind as he drifts to sleep: he can’t wait for you to get home.

[ippipo]

Fuck it into ya

sukuna ryomen x reader - mafia au? idk but here's sum

Sukuna is the type to buy you expensive presents literally every week. He was a spend-thrift and it was batshit crazy how careless he was with money when it came to you. So you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

You told Sukuna that you'll tear every single clothing he buys you if he doesn't listen to you, to which he casually shrugged and said, "I could just buy you more." After many blackmailing attempts (who are you kidding? this man gets death threats and is attacked at least once every month), you decided to use your ace card.

You didn't talk to him for an entire day. It was pretty childish considering the fact that he was buying stuff only for you, but you recently heard that one of the three powerful mafia groups had gone bankrupt rendering them useless. It scared you because Sukuna's money saving ability was shit despite being the richest mafia ever.

After a few painful hours of knocking on your door, Sukuna was angry and punched a hole into the hard wood. Of course it didn't work, his knuckles started to hurt. That didn't matter to him though, he just wanted to know why you were ignoring him.

"Y/N.." he called out weakly, his voice bleeding with sadness. He had a bad day and he just wanted to be around you. Hearing his pitiful voice, your heart clenched. C'mon, it's not everyday you have one of the strongest people weak on their knees, begging. Seems like you were just as sadistic as the greatest mafia don himself.

You slowly unlocked the door and peered into his eyes, your eyes bearing rigidity that made his cock hard. You grabbed his hand and brought him to your shared bed, pushing him onto it and falling on him, earning a grunt.

You softly dragged your fingers on his palm, sometimes writing his name, sometimes writing your name. He pushed you off to the side gently and got up to undress himself down to just his boxers. He got on to the bed and grabbed you aggressively by your shoulder, pulling you back on top of him, your rightful position.

You bit his shoulder playfully as a payback for manhandling you to which he replied with a kiss on your forehead. "Say, why do you want me to stop buying you things so bad?" He questioned, his voice booming in the quietness of your room.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" You asked. "You are to answer my question, not question me back." He flicked your forehead, earning an 'ouch'. "You won't leave me after this?" You asked, ignoring his statement earlier. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

"Darling, you fucking dumb bitch, I saw you mixing egg yolks with strawberry jam to make a volcano and I'm still with you." He stated. You muttered 'reasonable' before clearing your throat, preparing yourself for something you thought would embarrass you.

"Okay. So, um-" "Get to the point." He said impatiently. "Fine. The clothes you're getting me are the wrong size, they're smaller and I think I grew bigger than last time. I feel weird about myself because they used to fit me but now they're a little tight and uncomfortable and I feel insecure." You said without a break.

"W-" "And I heard some maids saying that three of your enemy gangs went bankrupt and I'm scared you'll waste all your money on things that I won't even use." You added. "First off, how dare you interrupt me." He said and paused.

"Secondly, what do you mean you feel insecure? If anything, I'm the one who was supposed to buy you clothes that fit you, not the ones smaller, it's my fault. And darling, you're a fucking goddess, I don't care if you got bigger, you look just fine to me." He pulled both your cheeks with his fingers and slapped them softly.

"Stop doing tha-" "I didn't marry you for something as stupid as looks, I married you because you're my weird cumslut who can't go a day without dick, plus, you're my wife, no way am I letting something so absurd bother you." He said with a smirk. You slapped his bare chest because of his choice of words, blushing profusely.

"Thirdly, who do you think made them go bankrupt?" You remained silent at that, assured and relieved. "So...you still like me?" You asked. He smacked your cheek and choked you, gently may I add. "Stop asking me stupid questions." He grumbled.

You giggled when his thumb ghosts over your neck, tickling you while his hand was around it. You take his hand that was around your neck and press kisses on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spots you kissed, a happy glint in his eye, as if you both actually kissed.

Sukuna doesn't look like it, but he is just happy if you were near him. Your presence is more than enough, a blessing, in fact. To him, you're not a prize, you're a gift, you're a prank gone right, you're his world. Aggressively, he loved you, he cherished you and he will keep on doing it till his last breath.

"I'm still offended you slapped me." You said, turning away when he tried to kiss you. He grabbed your chin and forcefully made you look towards him, to which you didn't object. He gently kissed your lips, capturing your heart and soul within a span of seconds.

A wordless assurance. He needed that to make sure he didn't actually hurt you, because he meant to slap softly, playfully, with pure love, not the kind of slap he was more acquainted with, thanks to his parents (who were dead by the way).

"It's just that..." You began, grabbing his attention though it was already on you. "I don't like the way I look?" It was more of a question than a confession, you were unsure of yourself. There were times you liked the way you looked, there were times you absolutely despised yourself.

It was complicated, your relationship with your body. When you thought you looked good, you didn't. When you thought you didn't look good, you didn't.

It was tough, especially when you're dating someone conventionally attractive. It makes you feel unworthy. That maybe someday he would find someone else. Maybe someone who looks prettier, has both, beauty and brawns.

Even though he treats you like a princess, showering you with his passionate fancy love, you still felt that he could do better. Choose someone better. That thought makes you feel like someone had cut your head and poured vomit inside you, bleaching your organs with vomit, an unshakeable feeling.

You didn't need to say a word though. Sukuna knew what you were thinking. Every thought, every whisper and every breath of yours was familiar to him. It was surprising how well he knew you. Perfect hands wrapped around a perfect waist, your waist. He didn't care how big it was.

He kissed you, aggressively. That's what you called your relationship, aggressive love, which was quite contrary to how he treated you because there was always a hidden gentleness under his aggressiveness. He knew where to draw the line though.

"I don't know why you don't want to believe me, so I might just have to fuck it into ya." It was funny how he said it in a very serious tone, he was being serious. "Ryo, I was at a stupid party before coming home and my legs are dead from standing so much." You whined.

"Who says you have to work now? Let me handle your body." He whispered, licking a stripe on the back of your ear. A shiver of pleasure ran down your body, right to your cunt. Oh boy did you know what a night it was going to be.

[sirianasims]

The Don Diaries

The next morning, Horsie is surprised to see Don up at dawn.

Not only is Don awake at this unusual hour, he also seems to have a lot on his mind as he mechanically weeds and fertilises the garden.

He's left Dani to sleep in, but it doesn't take long before the morning light wakes her.

Matteo, on the other hand, is woken up by a loose tooth.

He gets dressed and goes downstairs to Dani, and gives her a friendship bracelet he secretly made the night before. Unlike his dad, Matteo has no doubts about tying the knot.

Dani need to get back to San Myshuno for work, though, so she says goodbye to them both, and Matteo joins his dad in the garden. Don is unusually quiet, but Matteo doesn't think about it for too long.

He's busy trying to explain to Bunbun that his jokes are funny, actually. Bunbun is not convinced.

To make matters worse, the loose tooth is still bothering him, so after dinner he makes a decision. It's got to go.

Ouch! But at least it's gone now. Sometimes it's worth a bit of temporary discomfort to fix a problem, isn't that right, Don?

Don is very proud of Matteo for being so brave. Matteo, however, wonders if his half-sister Michael has also lost any teeth. Maybe he could go visit his mother and find out?

Don is a bit worried about Matteo's increasing interest in connecting with his mother, but he promises to see if he can sort something out.

I mean, what's the worst that could happen?

chrono - previous - next

[siremasterlawrence]

How To Break A Man?

Don Fredrickson is a total jerk wasting my time constantly disappearing on and off for well over two years and though he pleased me to break him he still tries to control the narrative.He is such a pain the ass even at this point you can blame me because I am still some how drawn to him and at first he kind of reminded a bit of Chris Evans when he put on weight.He is not exactly a winner in any sense of the word but I tolerate him since I believe I can make him in to something better that is all I can muster and that’s not enough to describe him. He drove from his house to my apartment waiting for me in his car as I join him he is driving me around my neighborhood and maybe some how thinking of me breeding him. That is all his Neanderthal brain can handle I guess at first I thought he wa kind of well smart and he appears that way but I was correct about how dumb he is and that heIs nothing.

His dirty blonde hair can be seen for miles is most displeasing, his one saving grace is that he can be handsome even hot when he ripples with muscles and swells up that sunken face of his. He places the keys the ignition as he switch it on we take off and I take a deep breath with a heavy sigh and began to think to myself about the possibilities of what he can become. Up until recently he was gone completely locked away in his mind leaving me an empty canvas to recreate the awesome Himbo I named Chris and he looks so much like him now.You can guess that he once again disobeys me crawling back to his body overtaking it and settles in as he messages me without any regrets on his parts and no apologies so insufferable.

“Why are you quite Master?”

“Smack”

“Ouch! Damn it”

“Quit complaining! Smack”

“You brainwashed me”

“Yeah and?”

“You say one word”

“Smack! See!”

“You have given me so a disservice”

“So fuck off! Smack”

“Ooooowwww! I am sorry “

“Jury is still out on that”

“You are still mad”

“After all subs bullshit “

“I am furious “

“Smack”

“Bitch! Smack”

“Please stop”

A few weeks later I arrive at his new place he found without roommates finally thank goodness.

“Bend over “

“Smack “

“Pull done those dirty pants “

“Lower “

“Master I”

“Geez”

“Spank “

“Sorry Master”

“My God! You are horrendously embarrassing “

“I didn’t want to lose you”

“Fuck it! Smack”

“Spread your legs “

“You want to be broken like this fine “

“Yes Master”

“You failed this Master”

“I bread you “

“Say something “

“That’s right you are puppet now you ass wipe. Why couldn’t you be a better sub like I wanted? Now you will be my perfect sub for a lifetime.

The end