#he knows things he's seen things but he makes a cool front as a mask

[incandescentia]

How pure are you?

"Hm. No comment."

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Gala Buddies

Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.

So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.

Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.

Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.

At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.

Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.

Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.

“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.

Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.

“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”

“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”

“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.

The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”

Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”

Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”

“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.

“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”

Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.

“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”

“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”

“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”

Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”

Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.

Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.

The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.

“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.

Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”

And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.

“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.

“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”

“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”

[hadersversion]

yet another drabble about dad!logan because i’m watching the wolverine and love sick over this man!

obviously logan is a girl dad…as we seen many many many times. i can definitely see him wanting a BIG family, once you got him started and he’s seen you pregnant with HIS child? oh, that motherfucker will BECOME a mother fucker. he’s like a rabbit with you, constantly on you.

the one thing i keep picturing is the two of you setting up the nursery together. he obviously did the heavy lifting and painting, which cause a fight between the two of you constantly. “im pregnant, lo. i can do somethings, ya know?” “i know, bub, why don’t ya set up the library while i finish putting the dresser together?” it’s all about compromise…in some way? but the two of you spend hours in there together, trying your hardest not to lose your mind over ikea’s confusing directions and the missing screw that fell somewhere in the room. logan is trying not to lose his cool in front of you, mumbling under his breathe. but you know once you leave the room, he shouts swears and knocks the boxes over. it makes you laugh as you grab waters in the kitchen. but once the nursery is done, you two are so exhausted you fall asleep on the floor using the baby’s new pillows. though it was sort of uncomfortable, you two felt content knowing that the room was done and your baby would be here soon.

but your first kid is a girl, his heart swells when he sees you holding this perfect bundle of joy that’s a perfect combination of the two of you. but you swear a tear leaves his eye when that beautiful baby girl opens her eyes and they look exactly like yours…logan never had a favorite color before until he looked into your eyes. and now he gets to see it even more through your daughter. you knew logan was protective over you, that was a given. especially since you were pregnant but once the second his daughter came into the world, you could’ve swore he took over the role of mama bear. he would hover over ANYONE that touched them, made sure they washed and sanitized their hands multiple times, he would even ask people if they were feeling sick before they even entered the room. you had to convince him people didn’t need to wear a mask and gloves in the hospital room. but once the team met baby wolvie, he felt at ease. a little prideful showing off your guys’ daughter, actually showing off his smile to show just how happy he is.

he’s definitely going 10 mph on the drive home, cursing under his breathe at people beeping and swerving around him, not wanting to yell in front of the baby. “logan, you can speed up a little bit. she’s not going to fly out of her car seat.” “stop being a backseat driver, would ya hun? i got this.” “whatever you say old man.”

the first night was obviously tough with the baby crying and making a fuss over everything. you cried, logan held you, you both were frustrated and upset. it was tough, you knew it wasn’t easy but holy hell this was shit. but you had that support system, the man you loved helping and comforting you. but once that sweet baby girl settled in your arms and finally slept longer for an hour, you both gave each other a tired smile as he kissed your head. “you’re glowing, mama. absolutely gorgeous.” “shut up, i know i look like shit.” “shut the hell up, why would you say that?” “because you look like shit, papa.” you both laugh and pass out on the couch, receiving the best sleep ever in each others arms. until the baby monitor goes off less than two hours later.

🎀🦢💓kaila🎀🦢💓

[elmushterri]

I filled an entire page of my sketchbook with Nori!

I love them sm!!! This has to be one of my favorite of your rewrites, I seriously did not think I could actually care abt PJ Masks past the age of 6 but now I'm obsessed 😭

On another note, just a random thing I'm curious about, before breaking off from GunnTech, did the main three basically live at the facility since they were initiated? I guess they do from what I’ve seen, but I was just wondering if they ever had to go to like. School or something, when they're not training. And if they ever got to see their family again (though I doubt both the kids and their family would want to lol)

And one more thing, totally important and necessary to ask, how does Nori acquire the kids? (..that doesnt sound right)

Like does he break in to the facility from time to time or did they just bring them with him when they left GunnTech or does he take them in when he finds them just out and about??

NORI… OUR FAVOURITE PROBLEM! The way you draw eyes scratches my brain /positive.

I think the idea is that everyone does live at GunnTech, they have rooms and go to school. GunnTech also has a prison somewhere (like, sci fi, clean, sterile white prison, a glass front-wall for cells instead of bars, and that’s where everyone gets put in Season 4. But, before that, when the main three villains (or at least, just Luna and Nori) escaped, it wasn’t totally locked down so they had to walk out suspiciously/tell the security guards reasons (you need to give reasons when leaving GunnTech so, “I’m hanging out with a friend” comes with ‘who is the friend + give us contact details’) and then probably remove a tracker (unsure as to whether the wristbands are the trackers or the trackers are put into their chest implants), and try to avoid getting caught for the rest of the time (until season 3-4 ofc). The main story probably begins with the three MCs trying to find them and bring them back. Romeo’s wanted cause he stole tech, though, he’s not a mutant.

Nori risks his life basically (not literally but he risks huge punishment) by constantly breaking into the facility to get out new kids. Kids who haven’t yet been mutated all have one room (several large rooms for many kids’ bunk beds basically, not literally one big room 😭) and he goes in and saves one or two each time. Some kids don’t *want* to come with him, thinking this is a cool superhero opportunity. He has an easier time helping kids who are scared and having second thoughts. He’s very gentle.

Also reminder that Nori had their finger prints burned off yipeeee. He’s not letting that happen to the others. (It doesn’t happen to every kid, but GunnTech probably has categories (like, heroes: animals, space, spies, drivers, healers?) and if you’re in the (name is a work in progress) Spies Category (stealth category?) like Nori, you get your finger prints burned off.

Daisy is canonically one of the only two Ninjalino names we know! I might make her into a small side character so that art isn’t 100% solid but eh!

Also he can’t really just “take them back to their parents”. If you’re a child at GunnTech, your parents either gave you away for money or you’re an orphan.

Nori’s usually a sassy ‘problem’ but they have their really serious and gentle moments.

[crunchyroaches27]

”You’re safe, pet.” | TF 141 x omega!reader

OKAYYY BEAR WITH ME! I just released a pt2 of the ghoap post I made but I could not help but write this one. It’s fluff and angst and the same time.

omega!reader is rescued from a Omega trafficking ring by TF141

BACKGROUND INFO

everyone has lil tails and ears (🥺) + Omegaverse AU + they/them pronouns used; Gender neutral + Alphas have pointed canines for marking

there are more characters, like Alejandro but he doesn’t play too much of a major role. He doesn’t deserve to be here

Price is the pack leader. He is an Alpha— the most dominant out of his other mates. His word is absolute law. He likes to regularly scent his pack, it makes him feel reassured that his pack is safe. Price is essentially their cigarette-smoking dad

Ghost is next in line in this chain of command, he is also an Alpha. He is more impulsive than the others and often has to have many restraints, leading to him often being aloof and angsty. Soap likes Ghost, but Ghost is too fucking slow

Gaz is third in line, also an Alpha like the ones before him. He is cool and collected, yet he also is a bit of a rebel— here and there he will challenge Price’s authority and be snarky

And finally, Soap. Poor Soap is at the bottom, being a Beta. Despite not being an Omega, he still carries out monotonous tasks. As the “peacemaker” of his pack, he ensures that all is well between them. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a jackass sometimes. His body scent is fainter, but his scenting abilities are better than the rest bc he is a Beta

In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.

You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.

You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.

All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.

You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.

“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”

“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”

One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.

At the hospital

When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.

Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.

Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.

“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.

“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.

Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.

Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."

Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.

"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.

You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.

Sorry. Didn't really know how to end it, but pt2 will come out fs 😚

[tacticaldiary]

can you do a ghost x head doctor!reader? kind of that scenario where ghost is like, “i don’t want a regular plain nurse; i want reader 🙄” and reader is like, the head doctor of the medical wing or whatever, and doesn’t usually deal with regular military injuries, but puts up with ghost’s shit anyways? 😋

Superficial Wounds, Deep Devotion

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Hurt/Comfort

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with the gauze.

"All you need is to stop scaring away the field medics." She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant.

Masterlist

"Ghost?" Her head snaps up from the clipboard. "What's wrong with him?" She frowns, pushing down the bubbling panic in her chest.

"He's asking for you to treat him in room Q42."

"Is he bleeding?" The urgency itches just below her skin but her cool professionalism doesn't crack. She doesn't deal with superficial injuries, only the most complex cases. She's seen it all. Mangled faces, guts hanging out, disfigured bodies.

So the fact that they were asking for her-...

Wait.

"Is command asking me to see him?" She says slowly.

The soldier shakes his head. "No ma'am. It was a request from the Lieutenant himself."

She releases a slow exhale, relief tingling. "I'll see to it." She dismisses him with a wave, starting down the hall.

Simon had this...habit of seeking her out. It was a perk of his rank, she supposes, but she'd been the only one to treat him ever since they'd encountered each other way back when she was an on-site combat nurse.

It's impossible to forget seeing him for the first time. That skull mask of his was splattered blood red, a bullet wound in his shoulder as he sat on one of the dusty cots in the emergency tents they'd set up in the middle of the desert.

They'd just clicked.

She ended up treating him again after that, and that's when he started personally requesting her.

It hadn't taken long for the spark between them to explode into something intense and loving. He was the anchor to her stressful life, unshakable and a steady presence. She was his person, one of the only people he trusted with his injuries and his heart, the warmth that let him focus on being better.

Swinging open the door without knocking, the man in question sits there in all his glory in front of her.

Admittedly, the first she stares at is his chest. He's shirtless, a cut that she can tell is superficial and non-fatal from all the way by the door.

"You can come inside." His voice is amused and knowing, the bastard.

"Inviting me into my own house?" She swallows, but listens. The door is kicked shut behind her. The moment it's closed he tugs off his mask, the weary lines of his face much more prominent under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. "How was your op?" Stopping by the cot he's sitting on to press a quick kiss to his sweaty head, she breezes past him to the medical trolley nearby.

"Fine. Did what we had to." They both know he won't volunteer any more information. Just as she doesn't confide in him with every horrific injury she deals with, he doesn't expose her to the horrific things he has to do. A mutual withholding of information for the peace of mind of both parties.

"Thought you weren't due to come home until tomorrow. I was gonna meet you on the tarmac and everything."

"Surprise." He deadpans, making her snicker.

"You know, for the big bad Ghost you are, you sure need to cause such a fuss about a little cut." Gathering what she needs, she casts him a glance over her shoulder.

"Thought it was your job to make sure I was in the best state possible for deployment?"

She loves this back-and-forth they have. He does too, if the relaxed way he leans back on his arms is anything to go by. It had taken years and years to get to the place they are right now. Years of work, of communication and trust.

"It's my job to take care of the worst, highest profile cases."

"I'd say this is pretty urgent." This playful side of him came out when they were alone.

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with her spoils.

"Can I prescribe you to stop scaring away the field medics?" She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant. He doesn't wince or cringe or even flinch at the burn, eyes fixed on her face as she works.

"I'm a Lieutenant, I can do what I want."

She pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Are you really pulling rank on me right now?"

He hums, sliding up to hold her hips, tugging her closer. "Don't seem to mind it when we're alone, love." A smirk tugs at his mouth when a flush creeps up the back of her neck. God, he loves that look on her.

"What's gotten into you?" Shaking her head but unable to push down a smile, she works on securing the gauze, taping it down. "Getting clingy, are we now?"

He...well he can't deny it. He doesn't want to tell her the reason for it either, even if she's subtly fishing for answers.

He'd been an inch away from getting shredded by flying shrapnel from a car bomb today.

If Gaz, quick-witted, sharp, Gaz hadn't yelled and yanked him to cover behind a brick wall he would've been embedded with scraps of metal and rusty nails.

Dead, as his namesake.

Ghost wasn't afraid of death. Ghost got up every day ready to not see the sunrise again. Ghost was a cold blooded machine ready to do whatever his orders were.

But Simon wanted to live.

Simon wanted to come home to her. Simon wanted the last thing he saw to be her smile. Simon selfishly wanted her more than any victory his rifle could earn him.

Ghost had been unfazed, Simon had realised the inevitability of the avoided consequence.

Lips press against his bare shoulder. Right, left, and then gently on the gauze. It brings him back to the present, his grip on her tightens for a moment. Her gaze is soft, knowing. Because of course it is. She's the only one who's been able to get into his head like this, been able to crack the code to thoughts he himself doesn't have the key for.

"Any of other glaringly dangerous injuries I need to take a look at?" His eyes follow the smooth line of her neck as she tilts her head towards him. He exhales, shifts, and pulls her closer without warning, banding a strong arm around her.

"Dunno. Think you might have to conduct a comprehensive examination."

She laughs against his lips and goes down with him when he shifts farther up the cot.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(1/09/2023)

[imshymorph]

So, new story! Death!Ghost x Life!reader. It’s a longer one, there’s much more to their story if everyone likes it an wants to see more. Update: Here's Part 2 and Part 3

You’re sitting by the edge of the water, fingers lightly dipping in the creek and moving around. The ripples that form from your movement making tadpoles, small fish and spurts of water plants come to be.

It felt natural, with the longer hours of sunlight and the rising of temperature, to start using your abilities once again. To take your side of the mantle once Death had taken the grunt of the work in the colder months. Spring was only nearing closer, and that meant you’d have to start adding spirits back to the Earth, it was your time to keep balance.

- - - - -

You looked up from the stream, from the trail of tiny creatures that gladly followed the movement of their creator’s hand, when you felt the breeze cool a little. It could only mean one thing.

Your lips pull up into a soft smile, your lively eyes crinkling lightly at the edges as you see him stand on the other side of the creek. His own eyes shift under the skull mask, and you know he’s smiling back even if his eyes are covered by the shadow of the bone. It doesn’t surprise you that within barely a few seconds he’s instead sitting beside you, the wavy reflection of the water in front of you confirming his presence.

It always felt like that, peaceful and comfortable in each other's presence. You had gotten used to Death long ago, or Ghost, a name that had come from a joke once made aeons ago. You couldn’t help yourself, lightly teasing him when you had seen how pale his skin really was the one time he had taken a glove off. And somehow, it just stuck.

The both of you stay in silence for a bit, admiring the landscape around you, how slowly your power took over the terrain to give him some rest. You worked in harmony, the switching in seasons never feeling like a competition or betrayal, but like an acknowledgment of the other’s importance and significance.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” He’s the first one to talk, giving you a short look before his attention was pulled to the birds that filled the sky. Most of them nesting, feeling in some way that your power would welcome them soon before giving them tiny ones to look after.

“Good, busy with the new blooms that come with spring.” you reply with a small smile, your hands running through the grass below, making new blades appear, greener and more luscious. “You must’ve been busy.” You tack on, your eyes following the trail of growing plants until your eyes find him.

“Hmm, you have some work ahead of you.” he concedes, tilting his head back, feeling what sunrays managed to filter through the holes in his mask. He let out a soft sigh before giving a light nod, “Been taking care of my duties, but it’s been good.”

“You’ll be able to rest a bit more. Now that the warm months are coming in.” You say, that smile still on your face. It definitely was what fascinated him most about you. He knew the amount of power you beheld, all the things you could make appear out of thin air. Yet there was something about that smile, that soft and kind smile that you always seemed to gift him with.

Or at least that’s how he wanted to see it, like your sweet smile was specially directed at him, for him. If there was one thing that he pictured on his mind whenever he thought about you, it was the upturn of your lips. Not even your mightier creations could ever compare to the one of your smile.

“I suppose I did, yes.” He says with a light nod, his tone low and gravely but really calm as well, like deep calm water. His head then turned, your view of his mask turning from the profile to a full fronted one. His cold and cloudy almost-grey eyes finding yours. “Are you enjoying your creations?”

The corner of your eyes crinkled a bit more as they landed on his, your smile brightening, reminding him of the golden hues the sun gets when it starts to set behind the horizon. Your hand moves, fingers trailing through the dirt beneath you. Tips passing just enough power to the small buds that were starting to grow to make them fully bloom. “Always do.” Your tone sounding sweet and golden like honey.

A smile took over his lips and he mentally thanked the skull covering them, although the amused glint your eyes got told him that you had definitely noticed. “I’m glad to hear it.” He says, tone as cordial and gravely as ever, hiding the small embarrassment of the knowing tilt your smile gets.

The both of you seeped into comfortable silence once again, you looking at the vast forest around you, the light hints of it filling with your creations again after a cold winter. Meanwhile he busied himself as he looked over his scythe, his gloved finger lightly trailing the sharp edge.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” He murmurs, almost making you wonder if he had actually spoken as his eyes stay trained on his tool.

“You know I never do.” You reassure, your eyes only staying on him for a moment before going back to the light ripples on the water source in front of you.

“I was wondering…” he starts before cutting himself off. You don’t say anything, don’t pressure him as he leaves the scythe back on the floor beside him. Nor as he tilts his head back to look up at the sky once more. And he doesn’t think he could ever find the words to express how thankful he is about it.

He clears his throat, daring to give it another chance. His head tilts a bit to the side, only enough to see you from the corner of his eye. “I was just wondering, we’ve worked together for so long…” he fully turns his head now, his eyes meeting yours. “And yet… you’ve never asked to see me? See what’s under my mask.”

For someone who was the personification of Death, Ghost couldn’t understand how his heart could beat so fast. How it felt like it could leap out of his chest at any moment, how fast his blood pumped through him.

And it feels like it instantly stops when he sees you lightly shaking your head, “It’s not my place to ask, I'm sure it’s there for a reason.” your soft voice explains. And he lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding, his heartbeat slowing a bit but the tension still in his body as he gives a light nod back.

The both of you go back to the silence, but this time your eyes stay on each other's. His hand slowly reaches up, his fingers feeling the edge of the worn out bone. His voice is barely perceptible when he talks next, “What if I wanted to show you?”

[slasher-fxcker]

Fighting with Michael

Part 2: Making up

A/N: Ugh I am loving all the Michael fics at the moment! Here's part two you guys! enjoy! also feel free to send any requests in.

Warnings: Slight mention of blood but I think thats it

GIF by thepumpkin-queenn

You didn’t know where you were going as you wandered down the street, wiping at the tears that streamed down your face. You were glad it was late and there was no one around to see you in this state. Tonight, had made you question everything, what were you doing with Michael? You had known for a while that you were in love with him, but would you ever really know how he felt? Could Michael even love you back. You felt like a fool, you had heard all the stories about him, about what he’s done.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t want to think of him like everyone else did, to you he wasn’t a monster. He was your Michael.

Sitting down on a bench you pulled your jacket closer to you as the cool wind blew down the street. You thought about going home, you didn’t know whether Michael would get angry and come looking for you. Deep down you knew that you weren’t talking about the house when you talked about your home, the realisation like a stab in the heart. Michael was your home, you wanted to be wherever he was.

The tears that you didn’t notice had stopped had once against started flowing down your cheeks at the thought. How could you leave Michael when you loved him so much? He found you at a time in your life where nothing seemed to be going right, he seemed like a blessing in disguise, but now you had a choice to make. You decided it was time to head back to the house and face him. Whatever the outcome was you needed something from him, something to show that you were a permanent thing in his life and not just passing entertainment.

You paused in front of the building, getting the courage to walk through the door. You didn’t know how Michael would react to your little outburst, but you knew it wouldn’t be good. The slow creak of the door seemed to rival the sound of your beating heart as you stepped inside. You immediately noticed the knife still sticking out of the wall where you had been stood only an hour or so ago. But soon enough your eyes glanced around seeing the broken furniture littered all around the room. A table split in half, the vase that was on it smashed on the ground, some sort of splintered wood put through one of the walls.

The creak that you heard above was the only thing that broke you out of your shock. You hesitantly made your way up the stair expecting the same mess that you had just seen, but upstairs seemed surprisingly calm, undisturbed. You made your way to the bedroom to find Michael sitting on the edge of your shared bed.

“Michael,” your voice comes out in a whisper, much shakier than you were hoping. He slowly raises his head and you can make out his eyes in the dim room, there’s a sadness there you don’t think you’ve ever seen from the man. You both seemed to watch each other for an eternity, not sure if you were waiting for him to make some sort of outburst or if you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to whatever response he would have to your next words. “I love you,” Michael didn’t miss the way your lip slightly quivered as you let out this new revelation.

Michael lowered his head and you froze as the fears you had about him not loving you immediately returned at this action. Before you could panic too much you noticed Michael raise his hand up to his mask and slowly pull it off his head, your heart could’ve beat out of your chest at the anticipation of finally seeing him. You didn’t know which one of you were more surprised by this action, but still you knew better than to react too quickly and possible spook him out of the decision.

Michael kept his head lowered and neither one of you moved for a moment. Soon enough you slowly stepped towards him, the closer you got the more you noticed his white knuckled grip on the mask still clenched tightly in his hand. You lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him taking his hand in your own and getting him to release the mask. You put it down beside you and gently cupped his cheek, every movement was slow and gentle as you tested the waters of what Michael would allow.

You tilted his face to look at you as your voice came out just above a whisper, “I love you Michael.” His eyes darted away and you noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. You couldn’t help but find this situation unbelievable, feared by so many, thought of as a monster, but for you he could be vulnerable, for you he would risk showing some humanity. You brought his attention back to your face as you spoke again, “I love all of you Michael, okay?”

Your thumb stroked his cheek and you watched his eyes close as the tension seemed to slowly leave him and his shoulders dropped from the tense position they held. You knew you shouldn’t push your luck with moments like this, being so rare. But seeing Michael like this, so exposed and vulnerable just for you did things to your heart you had never felt before. You leaned in slowly, giving Michael a chance to pull away if he wished before you gently brushed your lips against his.

He didn’t kiss back but he didn’t push you away, taking this as a sign to continue, you kissed him again. This time with a bit more pressure, it took Michael a minute but he began to reciprocate the kiss. It was a bit too rough, as you expected it to be, and a bit clumsy but the passion that it held made up for any lack of experience. You felt his hand hesitantly grab your waist which surprised you, but you did your best not to make any sudden movements that could spook him.

You placed your hands on his arms and slowly ran them up to his shoulders, he flinched away causing you to look at him questioningly, had you taken it too far? You followed his gaze to where your hand had brushed over a rather large cut on his shoulder. It wasn’t deep but you noticed the blood and dirt all stuck together across the area. You placed another soft kiss to his lips before standing up and grabbing his hand. “Come on, lets get you in the shower.” And for once Michael didn’t argue as he followed you happily to the soon to be very steamy bathroom.

[webslingingslasher]

spiderman saves cherry one time (but not even from smth serious) and suddenly she falls in love and tells peter ab her new obsession w him that she didn’t understand before and he’s literally cheering on the inside at how she’s closer to falling for him without realising

happy sunday!

--

'you know how you're always trying to get me to like spider-man?'

'yes.'

you hold the back of your hand to your forehead and dramatically swoon, your back lands on peter's bed. 'i've been swayed.' peter's got a strong feeling it's because you ran into spider-man today but he has to pretend he doesn't know that yet.

'did you have another dirty dream?' you gasp at the question, peter rushes out he was just joking. 'you're not funny, fyi.'

'you're cute when you have a crush.' you kick your feet on his bed, peter's being extra annoying. 'i don't have a crush! i was going to tell you i saw him today but nope, nevermind.'

peter knows how to work around your attitude. it's a special trick he's learned. 'you met spider-man? that's so cool, where were you?' you grin at him and start speed talking, peter loves being right.

'the bookstore! well, outside the bookstore. when i was leaving i was reading the back of a book and i walked right into him! i dropped my book and he caught me and when i looked up, bam, spider-man. he grabbed my book for me and asked if i was okay, like i didn't run into him!'

you replay the moment, you swoon again. 'ugh, petey, he was tall and so broad! it felt like i ran into a wall, but he was also like... i could've given him a hug and he wouldn't mind.' you lift your head up to look at peter, it's a similar feeling with him.

'i think he's kind of like you. cause you're mr. strong guy but you're the perfect amount of soft for cuddles. basically, i think i'm gonna marry spider-man.'

peter has to act like he's jealous, he doesn't mind. you like spider-man now and nothing else beyond that matters. if anything, this is a bonus for him.

'please tell me you didn't get his number, i can't compete with a superhero.'

'no!' you think about it for a second, you're not spider-man's number one fan but you see clips and articles online all the time. 'i don't think spider-man dates, i've never seen him out on one. but also, i don't think he can eat dinner with his mask on... wait, do you think he dates outside the mask and has to pretend he isn't spider-man?'

peter blinks two times, 'i don't know, i've never thought about it.' he's very flat with his reply. you huff, he's no fun. 'if you were spider-man, do you think i would know?'

'um, well, if you don't know i'm spider-man, then no, i don't think you would know.' you nod, he makes a good point. 'fair.' you keep thinking about it, you'd be thrown for such a loop if that happened to you.

'that's crazy. imagine dating someone for months or years and he tells you he's spider-man, i think i'd freak out. i wonder if anyone in his life knows who he is. wait, do you think there are people just walking around the city that know spider-man's true identity?'

peter didn't prepare himself for hypotheticals, he's wondering why he wanted you to like his alter ego so much. when you didn't care, you didn't ask questions.

'what do you think he looks like? i think he looks like you, he's probably cute. do you think he's our age? damn it, i should've asked him all of this when i had him in front of me.' you sigh again, searching for your phone you youtube his name and start watching compilations of fights caught on film.

'god, he could throw me around like nothing.'

peter grumbles out the corner of his mouth, 'i could throw you around like nothing.' you happily hum, the idea is enticing. 'could you wear the suit while you do it? wait, you better not, i wouldn't be able to stop myself from... things.'

you stare at the screen, you start to have flashes of imagery and you bite down on your bottom lip. 'oh god, i'm feeling a hyperfixation coming on.' spider-man is hot, his strength, his power, how fucking kind he is.

you sit up to look at peter, 'wanna makeout?' peter wants to know how he went from mentally begging you to like spider-man, to actually being jealous of how you fawn over him. 'i'm not a placeholder for your fantasies.'

'i never said you were. come kiss me... and maybe get between my thighs and make me feel good.' spider-man is attractive because of the mystery, peter's hot because, fuck, just look at him. peter's giving you a look that's testing, he's baiting you for more information. 'don't make me beg, it's not cute.'

'no, you just wanna kiss me because you're hot and bothered over spider-man.' it shouldn't bother him, but it does. 'i don't want spider-man's fingers in me, i want yours.'

'only because you can't have him.' you groan, he's dragging it out more than he needs. 'maybe i do, maybe he's not scared to touch me.' peter's quiet, you immediately fill in the silence. 'wait, that's me being bratty. i'm not trying to force you into sex.'

peter smiles, 'you can't force the willing, cherry.'

you pat the empty space between your legs, 'then will you come fill me up? please?' peter doesn't need to be asked a third time, you're instantly settled the second he's caging you under him and pressing his lips on yours.

peter's fingers drag up your thigh, you sigh into his mouth. 'mhm, spider-man.' peter's done, he pulls off you and you're whining and trying to keep him over you. 'no! i was kidding, i swear i was just kidding!'

'too late. you're cut off, think about your actions.'

'fine. but you know who would've found that funny?' peter raises his eyebrows, he knows what's about to come. 'say his name one more time and see what i do.'

'will you punish me and show me who i really belong to?'

and... oh, that has peter bricked up.

why didn't he think about that? he would have proved how much better he is, he could've kissed you breathless until you're babbling and only whimpering his name. and the way you're looking at him tells him this was more of a ruse than anything.

peter's never dated a brat, he's still learning your quirks. you blink pretty, you have a way of acting like an innocent virgin after saying something dirty, it's an unspoken card you always pull out when convenient.

peter grips the skin above your knees and pulls you into him, your hips slam into his. 'think you can be quiet this time?' you shake your head, peter grins at your messy hair. 'no?'

peter leans down, his lips brush yours. he whispers against your mouth, a hint of a kiss. 'didn't think so.'

and peter makes you say his name so many times, spider-man's is a distant memory. 

[luveline]

Do you think maybe you could do a quick Miguel fic of him being supportive/comforting to spider-girl cause she’s been working too hard and stretched herself a bit thin trying to make everyone happy? I’ve read all your Miguel stories and it feels like it fits LMAO (I love love love all of your stuff btw you’re one of my fav Miguel writers)

thank you for your request! grumpy miguel comforts a tired spidergirl. 1.2k

Miguel doesn't bother looking down at the thwipping sound of a web connecting with the platform. You're the only person he knows well enough, who knows him well enough, to come up without asking. 

"Woah," you say, pulling yourself onto the platform with altogether too much force, taking a running stumble at him as you try to keep your balance. 

Miguel puts a hand out to catch you without looking away from his screen. "Careful." 

"Thanks, handsome," you croon, though it's missing its signature pep. 

Miguel does look up, then, dragging his attention from the monitors to rake it over you. You have your mask on, which is odd but not unheard of, and your posture is tight. The majority of your weight is being held on one foot, and when he follows your leg upward, your thigh is curving outward. How weird. 

You pull away from him gently and shimmy over to the desk you've stolen, a mountain of your things that topples intermittently lying in wait for your return. As soon as you approach, the flying droid you take on missions whizzes into the air and dances around your shoulders, not unlike the way you move yourself. 

"Come over here," Miguel says. 

"No," you say primly, "you're in a strange mood." 

"You've been here for two seconds," he says. If he were in a strange mood, it's not as if you could've already gathered that from so little observation. 

"Yeah, and you're not usually eager to have me near," you say. True and untrue. 

"Come here." 

You sigh and approach him as though he's dragging you, reeling you in, every footstep heavier than the last. Miguel grabs you by the shoulders when you're close and stations you neatly in front of him, thumb quick to find the seam of your mask and slide beneath. 

You squint at the sudden light of the room, unmasked, though your expression quickly relaxes. "You want to kiss me," you guess, saccharine sweet as you tilt your chin upwards. 

Miguel dodges your feigned kiss. You aren't wrong about what he wants, but you haven't identified his main priority, which is to find out why you'd been wearing the mask in the first place, and why you're walking like your converse shoes are full of cement. 

You're very, very tired, evidently. You look exhausted. Miguel has seen you run down before, you stretch yourself thin often, and you do it without complaint, but this is a new level. His heart actually hurts in his chest, he's that gutted for you. 

Miguel glares at you. "What, you're not sleeping?" 

"Oh, don't, handsome," you say, moving as though you're going to walk away. 

Miguel takes your face into his hand and keeps you where you are. "Hey, answer me." 

"Of course I'm sleeping," you say. You won't meet his eyes. Liar. "You're a tyrant." 

Be that as it may, Miguel wants what's best for you. He draws a line under your dark circles with the pad of his thumb, feeling the puffy skin regretfully. Carefully, so carefully, he traces the line of a tear unshed from the corner of your eye to the corner of your lips. 

"Not enough, then." 

You look at him funny. Your bottom lip twitches, and every ounce of his cool dissipates as you frown and lean forward, pressing your face to his chest. 

"I'm busy," you confess in a murmur, your arms hanging loosely around his waist.

Miguel takes it for I'm really tired. He hesitates, looking down at you, your smaller stature, feeling the weight your letting him hold up for the trust it is. You're tired and you're telling him, even though he had to prod. 

Miguel hugs your shoulders. You sag like a popped balloon. 

"I'm busy," he says, though he amends quickly at the sudden rigidness of your back under his hands, "I'm busy, and I still sleep. You have to sleep." 

"If I want to… to make time for me, I keep staying up late, you know? I've been training, and helping Hobie Brown take down the establishment–"

"What?" 

"–and I was trying to make that cover for your wristband but I keep getting it wrong." You stop suddenly. Your hand screws tighter into his front, fingers digging ineffectual against nanotechnology. "I'm useless, even when I try." 

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.

"I can't get things right. I want to do everything. I want to get better at fighting so I can come with you. I want to be a good friend to Hobie. I want to make you things 'cos you deserve them. I'm sorry. I just make everything worse."

Miguel let's you wallow for a moment. He's no stranger to self-loathing. It can feel good to simmer. He rubs your back inchingly slowly, not sure why he's letting himself, not sure why he's holding back. 

Miguel takes your shoulders into his hands and eases you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. Forcing you to listen. "You don't make anything worse. You're tired, and being tired makes everything feel worse than it is. You're not the problem." 

Your cheek lists down to your shoulder. "You're being nice." 

"You don't have as much effect on things as you think," he says, ducking his head again to look you straight in the eye. "I mean that in a good way. You aren't hurting anyone. You can say no." 

"I don't want to say no." 

"You have to." He's tipping into tenderness now, plummeting fast and hard. "You need to look after yourself if you want to look after other people," he says. He wonders if what he's about to say is fair, but he's so unhappy with your obvious rampant fatigue that he decides he can live with the bad karma. "What if I need you to come with me to the next anomaly recovery? And you're too tired to stand? You'd have me go by myself?" 

"No." 

"Exactly, so do the right thing and sleep." Miguel says it simply, pulling away, pulling back, physically and emotionally. He likes you more than he should but being vulnerable is difficult. He hides behind a facade —your problem is ridiculous, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. 

You see straight through him. Hear the unsaid please. "I will. I'll go to bed… Thank you, Miguel." 

The facade slips as Miguel gives your bicep a warm squeeze. He turns away from you without another word, redirecting his attention on the screens, your presence like a thrumming he has to fight to ignore. 

"Bye, handsome," you say, stepping sideways off of the platform. He relaxes at the sound of a web sticking and your footsteps as they lead away. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose. 

"Inspiring," Lyla says, appearing from nowhere, a delighted, smarmy smile flickering across her face.

"That is getting so old," Miguel complains.

"Deprogram me, then." 

"Would if I could." 

"Ah, but then who would witness your frankly embarrassing attempts at comfort?" 

Miguel tries to catch her like a moth. She scoffs and leaps between his fingers. 

[ichorai]

particles ; peter parker.

track eight of BROKEN MACHINE.

prequel to spiderling!

pairing ; peter parker x stark!reader (gender neutral), dad!tony x reader

synopsis ; tony gives peter the dreaded 'dad' talk.

words ; 2.8k

themes ; fluff, mild comedy

warnings / includes ; set right at the end of homecoming era & onwards, mild cursing, peter is so endearingly awkward, tony being a good dad :(

a/n ; another part is in the works to be set during the events of infinity war/endgame!

main masterlist.

The Avengers compound was all sleek edges, clean cool-tones, and large floor-to-ceiling windows with not a speck of dust to be seen. It was an intimidating environment, to say the least. What made things worse was Mr. Stark’s hand on his shoulder and the hopeful gleam to his eyes.

The team, he had said. Tony wanted him to join the Avengers.

And with the brand new suit displayed in front of him, too… it was nearly impossible to say no.

Nearly.

When Peter stammered out a polite decline, Tony had looked at him above his lowered sunglasses, incredulous.

“You’re turning me down?” he said, heavy with disbelief. “You better think about this, kid.”

There was a long pause.

“Last chance, yes or no?”

Of course he wanted to say yes—to be in the Avengers, work with Iron Man himself… that was his dream. But he couldn’t. Someone had to look out for the little guy, right? And who better than the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?

“No,” Peter replied. 

Not at all used to being rejected, Tony struggled for words for a moment, before reluctantly accepting Peter’s decision, masking his disappointment fairly well. He liked the kid, and it wasn’t exactly fun to have him slip through his fingers like this. With a wave of his hand at Happy, he told him that he’d be driven home.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Truly,” Peter hastily said, certain that he’d made the right decision.

Preoccupied thinking about what he was going to tell the fifty reporters waiting behind the doors, Tony absentmindedly quipped, “Yes, uh, very well, Mr. Parker.”

Peter left with a proud grin and a skip to his step, nodding when Happy asked him to wait in the car. 

Before he could make his way out, however, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“That was really ballsy, what you did back there,” you said, observing him with an amused expression, eyes narrowed with curiosity. Peter blinked, recognizing you almost immediately. “Not a lot of people would leave my dad hanging like that.”

With a widened stare, Peter found all the words stuck in his throat. You were much more breathtaking in person, with an intrigued air about you. Though your features took more after your mother, who’d passed away many years ago, Peter noticed that you shared Tony’s smile.

“Uh… yeah,” was all Peter could lamely say.

The subtle beam curving your lips seemed to grow wider. You hummed, soft and lilting, languidly stepping forward with a nod. “Hope to see you around then, Peter.” You took his hand, sliding a folded piece of paper into his palm. “Give me a call if you ever need anything. Or if you just need a friend to talk to, I’m all ears. It’s a private phone—my dad doesn’t know about it. He gets really uptight about me talking to strangers but… you’re not really a stranger, are you? At least, not for long.”

Shocked, Peter could only open and shut his mouth, as if he were a fish out of water. 

“I, uhm… thank you. I’ll definitely, uh, definitely take you up on that offer,” he choked out, nodding emphatically. 

You gave him a warm smile, accompanied by a two-fingered salute, and in turn, he waved goodbye, palms drenched with sweat as he hurriedly backed away to the car before Happy could yell at him. 

Cute, you thought with an amused shake of your head, before making your way back to your dad, who was still muttering under his breath about how he couldn’t believe a fifteen year old had just turned him down.

Your phone number stared at him every day for the next week. The numbers were hastily scribbled down in blue ink, smudged ever so slightly by the crease of the fold during your rush, but you’d taken the time to draw a smiley face right beneath the last digit. It never failed to make Peter smile every time he gave it a glance. 

It took him three days to psyche himself up to even considering calling you, and another three to actually add you to your contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button far too often than he’d like to admit. On the seventh day, Peter pressed with a sharp inhale.

Three rings trilled by.

Peter wondered if you were going to pick up. He wouldn’t really be surprised if you didn’t—you were a busy person, probably, and didn’t have the time to take calls from people like him. 

Another ring. And suddenly, your voice reverberated through. Peter sat up on his bed, spine straightening as if it were an iron rod.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Hi!” he said, voice abnormally high-pitched. He cleared his throat and nervously added, “It’s Peter. Peter Parker?”

A laugh echoed in his ear. He could picture your humored smile. “Yeah, I remember. It’s nice to hear from you—thought you’d never call.”

“You were waiting?”

“Of course, I was. I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t want you to call.”

Warm relief surged through his veins, accompanied by a flustered coil winding within his abdomen. “Cool, cool… so, uh, I don’t want to be too forward or anything but I think you’re… so cool and uhm—” A pause. Was Peter really asking you out on an impulsive date? “Would you wanna hang out?”

On the other end of the line, you blinked in surprise, not expecting his sudden forwardness. You shifted the phone in your palm. “Right now?” It was a good thing you weren’t busy, having caught up on all your assignments and projects. Besides—you couldn’t remember the last time you properly went out into the city with someone other than Happy, Pepper, or your dad. 

“Uh… if you’re not busy, that is.”

“You know what—sure. Why the hell not?” you replied, grinning.

Peter did a double-take. “Wait—really?”

“Yes, really. I’d love to spend some time with you, Peter.”

Now it was his turn to smile, pink dusting across his cheekbones. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet, then?”

“Sure, Peter.”

After the call ended, you were quick to change into appropriate attire, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. You donned a soft grey hoodie and baggy black jeans, slipping out of your room a few minutes later. The location Peter had sent you was a quaint little library not too far from where you lived, within a manageable walking distance. You were glad that you wouldn’t have to ask Happy to drive you, because knowing your godfather, he’d be hovering over Peter like a vulture.

Just as you were about to slip out, your tote bag slung over your shoulder, Tony popped his head out of the living room, quirking a brow.

“Hey, kid,” he cautiously greeted. “Where you goin’?”

You froze with one foot out of the door. “Library,” you answered, trying you best to appear nonchalant.

“Hm. Which library?”

With a frown marring your lips, you crossed your arms. “Jeez, dad, whichever library! I’m sure there’s, like, a dozen in a five-mile radius.”

Mirroring your attitude, Tony mimicked your squared jaw and rolled his eyes. “You know, if you wanted to hang out with that kid Peter, you could’ve just asked.”

A beat of silence. You narrowed your eyes at your dad. “How do you know about that?”

Tony let out a loud guffaw. “What? You don’t think I didn’t know you bought yourself your own phone? Are you forgetting that your pops is Tony Stark himself? God, kid, you were just like me when I was your age.” He paused at that, rethinking what he just said. “Well, actually, I was way worse.”

He strode forward, smoothing his hands down the sleeves of your hoodie and patting your shoulders. It wasn’t often that Tony was overly affectionate with you, but whenever he was, you always appreciated how genuine he would be.

After pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, he gently nudged you out the door. “Go on. Get! Scat!” He made shooing motions with his hands. “If you don’t get back by sundown, I’ll have Happy hunt you down and kill the kid town executioner style.” At your scowl, Tony was quick to tack on, “Joking! I’m joking.”

“Bye, dad,” you said huffily, though the affection in your tone was unmistakable. With that, you turned to leave, fishing out your phone to text Peter that you were on your way.

“They grow up so fast,” a voice mused from over Tony’s shoulder, welling with emotion. 

He flinched at his friend’s sudden presence, slamming the door shut. “Jesus Christ, Happy, don’t scare me like that!”

The months flew by in a breeze. You and Peter were now exclusively dating—something that he had asked about early on in your relationship, worriedly gnawing at his bottom lip with the harrowing idea of you turning him down. But you’d been nothing but sweet with him, affectionately pressing your nose into his cheek and telling him that you’d love to be official.

You were lounging on his bed, sprawled over his dark blue comforter, which smelled of fresh laundry detergent and something else entirely Peter that you couldn’t get enough off. He was across the narrow room, hunched over his desk as he hurriedly did his physics homework due the very next day. Idly, you fiddled with the web shooters you had swiped from his bedside table, narrowing your eyes at the wrist fixings and the capsules that held his web fluid.

Only a genius could build something like this on his own, you thought fondly. I’m dating a genius.

It seemed that you had said the last bit out loud, because Peter snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, says you,” he scoffed. “You skipped, like, a dozen grades.”

“Half that, actually. Six grades.”

Peter turned to look at you over his shoulder, arching his brows. “Not to mention your dad is literally the Tony Stark.”

With a hum, you slunk off his bed and languidly draped your arms over his shoulder. “Just take the compliment, Peter,” you said as you pressed a fond kiss to a faint freckle on his cheek. Then, you glanced down at the problem he was solving. “Mmh, don’t forget the negative sign. It’s moving against gravity, no?”

“Right.” He hastily corrected the formula, glancing at you appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“No prob, I make the same mistake all the time,” you quipped. “I’ve been making my own suit with the help of my dad—had to study up a lot on rotational mechanics and material physics. It’s been a pain in the ass.”

Brows raising, Peter dropped his pencil and rotated his chair so he was facing you fully, his knees grazing yours. “What? You’re making your own suit?”

“Yeah,” you said with the beginnings of an excited smile tracing your lips. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever become an Avenger like my dad is but… I don’t know. It’s certainly an option.”

A low groan fell from Peter’s throat, and he buried his face in his palms. “You’re telling me we could’ve been in the same team together? Ugh, stop, stop, don’t make me regret turning your dad down.” 

“Oh, no, Pete, I think you made the right choice,” you quickly reassured him, tugging his wrists away from his flushed features. “We’re still young. It’s not fair to put that responsibility on our shoulders as of now.”

The brown of his irises softened. “Yeah. We’re still young,” he echoed, ducking his head to kiss your hand clutching his. “You gotta show me that suit of yours one day, though.”

Both you and Peter were strolling around an art museum, arms linked and permanent smiles plastered over your expressions as you pointed at various paintings and sculptures. It was nearly an hour into the date when your phone began buzzing in your pocket, and you hastily let go of Peter’s arm to fish it out.

“Hello?”

“Hey, bugaroo,” Tony’s drawl came through your phone. “Where are you? I’m bored.”

A lopsided grin hung onto the corner of your lips at his words. “I’m with Peter right now.”

“Hm. You guys are behaving yourselves, I hope. You using protection?”

The grin melted off your face and you scowled. “Dad, what the fuck?”

“Hey, language!” he scolded, before chuckling dryly. “God, I’m turning into Cap. Anyways—what’re you thinking for dinner tonight? Does Chinese sound good? You wanna invite the Spider over, too?”

You glanced at Peter, who was ogling an abstract painting with a tilted head and a puzzled expression. He’d never really understood the point of this art style, but when you’d explained to him that art didn’t need to be understood to be considered art, he had grown much more lenient with his views of the chaotic splotches of paint. A small smile traced the corner of your lips as you watched his features contort with every one of his thoughts. Peter truly wore his heart on a sleeve, for everyone to see.

“Yeah, sounds great,” you said into the phone. “We’ll be home in an hour.”

Dinner consisted of warm soup dumplings and stir-fried noodles in flimsy paper boxes.

“Mm, Mr. Stark, these are delicious. I mean, I know you didn’t cook this or anything but it’s still really good,” Peter said around a mouthful of noodles. “Thanks for, uh, inviting me over. It’s an honor, really.”

“Stop sucking up to my dad, Peter,” you snorted, sipping on some iced tea. “He already likes you.”

One of Tony’s brows raised. “When did I ever say that?” At Peter’s slightly mortified expression, Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. Jokes, kiddo. Don’t piss yourself.”

“Speaking of piss—I’m goin’ to the powder room. Don’t fight while I’m gone,” you unabashedly said, pushing yourself away from the table. You really were your father’s child, Peter thought, mildly amused.

Tony watched you disappear behind a hallway, before fixing his gaze on Peter. The older man drummed his chopsticks by the edge of the table. 

“Listen, kid, I know we’re already way past the point of this but as a father—you gotta understand that I have to give you the talk.” It was jarring to see Tony genuinely serious for once. Peter straightened himself subconsciously. “If you ever, ever hurt Y/N, I will stick a rocket up your ass and launch you straight to the moon. Do you understand?”

Peter gulped. “Yes, sir. I got it. You can trust me. I, uh, I really do like Y/N.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“...Yes? I’m sorry, I’m confused, do you not want me to like them?”

An unsatisfied noise fell from Tony’s lips. “Eh. I mean, would I prefer Y/N never ever date anybody and stay locked in their room forever, wasting away in front of a screen? Absolutely. But if it just had to be someone… I’m glad it’s you.”

Peter blinked in surprise. “Wow, Mr. Stark. That’s… thank you. It’s a huge honor. I promise I’ll take good care of them.”

“Yeah, don’t push it, Pete. You guys are barely a decade old.”

“Am I coming off too strong?” he winced, recoiling into his chair slightly. 

The man across from him gestured to the small space between his pinched fingers. “Just a bit.”

“I’m actually fif—”

“Fifteen. I know. Y/N, too.”

There was another tense moment of silence as Tony scrutinized the young man. 

Finally satisfied, he leaned back in his chair and smiled roguishly. “Phew! Glad that’s over with. In all honesty, if one of you were to hurt the other, it probably wouldn’t be you. I mean, let’s face it, you’re dating my kid, kid.”

Before Peter could respond, you slipped back into the room, your hands propped up on your hips. “Really, dad? Are you trying to scare Peter off?”

Your father gave you a sheepish shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

“I can make my own decisions,” you sternly replied. “You don’t need to hover.”

As you sat back down into the chair beside Tony, he wound an arm over your shoulders. “You know, my dad did the exact opposite of hovering when I was your age. He was always too caught up with work and stuff—barely ever saw the guy. Most birthdays n’ holidays and whatnot, he was never around. I don’t know, I just… I don’t want to be like my dad.”

Your features softened with his admission, and you turned to rope him into a proper hug. 

When you pulled away, Peter nervously cleared his throat. “I, uh, for the record—I don’t think you can ever scare me off. Not even after going to the moon with a rocket up my ass.”

Tony glared at him, though there was a slight smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Watch it, kid.”

“Sorry.”

[2-dsimp]

Hi hi hiii! Omg i binge read about ur yandere ovs and now yhey're running around in my mind like little hamsters.

What if darling somehow managed to see/hear Moros torture someone? And as a result, they're quite scared of Moros now, thinking he could snap on them at any moment? Thatd be so cool :o

Ur such a good writer!!! Keep writing, youre terrific! Have a good day n night :D

Cw: MDNI, NSFW, Heavy Angst, heavy Gore, yandere tendencies.

Yandere Torturer! Who forgot to lock the fun basement room, that you’ve always been curious of seeing. Whenever you come by to hangout at the agency he lived at with his other colleagues of Hitmen.

“N-no! Y-you can’t go in there, the basement is not really f-fun at all. It’s scary and d-dark… Not a p-place meant for you to see little one.”

Yandere Torturer! Would always plead for you to heed his warnings. He really hated keeping things from you but, it was for your own good. The burden he had to carry was his and his alone. And he planned on keeping it that way until he couldn’t.

Didn’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?

The stench of metallic blood hit your nostrils like a freight train. The jars of decapitated limbs, appendages, organs, littered the worn down shelves. You then choked a gasp seeing the state of your manager.

Hollow empty eye sockets, that dribbled tears of blood. He was still alive mouth breathing like a fish out of water. Though missing a whole bottom and top row of his teeth.

You remembered, briefly having an argument with him. About how he was always giving you creepy looks. Checking you out like you were a piece of meat and catcalling you.

But you never imagined that on his weeks notice about taking days off. Would you ever imagine seeing him strapped to a chair in tight chains like a dog. Teetering on the brink of death but unable to get true relief.

All because of the man who you thought to be the gentlest giant. One who’d never hurt a fly since he was oh so cutely timid and jittery. The same man in front of you donning a bloodied bunny mask and wearing his signature latex gloves to cover his huge hands.

“Moros… What the hell is this? Why is my manager here? Just what have you been doing in here?!”

“S-Sunshine?!”

Yandere Torturer! Who was so startled from your outburst that his butcher knife sliced through your coworker’s tongue. Making the latter thrash and choke on his own blood. The sight repulsed you and made you feel like hurling as you stumbled back away from the entrance.

“Oh n-no, you’re not s-supposed to be h-here. It’s d-dangerous I said. You’ll get sick! P-please wear t-this mask it’ll help you—“

Yandere Torturer! Who panicked over your wellbeing as He jerked off one of his bloodied gloves to search for a spare mask. To cover you from the carnage, but the damage was already done.

“No, no, no, stay away from me! Y-you murderer!”

You practically slapped away his trembling hand feeling all sorts of things ranging from loss, disgust, and denial. You couldn’t believe what you had seen, and wanted to escape this nightmare you believed that you had to be trapped in.

Yandere Torturer! Who let out a terrified noise at feeling you reject him for the first time and from seeing you suddenly flee from his sight. Almost as if you were afraid of him…

Yandere Torturer! Who became sick to his stomach and it was the due to the gore. Were you truly afraid of him? All he wanted was to be your caregiver, shield you from harm, take care of you the best way he could. So when he saw you getting harassed by your manager, he had to do it.

He wasn’t in the wrong! You were just shocked. You’d come back to him right? Right? If not then… He’d crumble.

“Sunshine… please don’t be afraid of me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—”

Yandere Torturer! Who slumped down into a ball like a lifeless husk in the corner. His fat tear drops falling from the holes in the rabbit mask.

——————-/——-

A/n: Here is the angst you’ve been wanting dear anon, I hope you’re satisfied _(:3 」∠)_

[small-sinclair]

Check List

Whumptober 17: Nowhere else to go

A RZ!Michael Myers x fem sleeping!reader Tw: stocker maybe?, gore mentioned, blood mentioned, he might be obsessed with reader if you squint

Nowhere else to go

Michael knew who you were because he’s not only seen you around the neighborhood, but he’s seen you without you spotting him. He wasn’t stocking you, for say, but he wasn’t planning to kill you, either. You were just part of his daily check list for some reason, and he had to see you at the same time every day. If he doesn’t, there’s a new body, a new murder story for the morning news the next day. Michael saw more as a little wondering soul than a person. If anything, he saw you more as a thing to watch for than go after. You’re just as harmless as a bunny.

Which led him to sneaking into your house while the cops were searching for him, trying to stop the freak with the knife, the Boggy Man as some call him. He knew where your spare key was hidden, he knew which door to use, and he knew which path to take to get to your room. His footsteps went unheard as he inched closer to your sleeping form and tangled sheets. As far as he knew, he didn’t know what he was going to do to you. He stood at the edge of your bed, watching you as you slept, thinking to himself all the terrible, bloody things he could do to your body. He could rip you apart limp from limp, break every bone in alphabetical order, kill you swiftly, silently, or he could wrap his hands around that delegate throat of yours and just squeeze. Michael thought over and over on what he wanted to do, but each one made his stomach churn and turn away from you every time he thought of your body in a mangled mess.

No matter how hard he pushed himself, how hard he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to harm you.

Must be from that cheek list he made.

His grip on the knife loosens and hits the wooden floor, causing you to stir but go back to sleep. His heavy blue and green eyes looked over your skin, perfect as a picture in the moonlight, and marveled at your peaceful from. What were you dreaming about? What beautiful dream were you living in that head of yours? Let him be part of it just for a moment. Spare a thought, a vision of him, then set him free from the cobwebs and chains that held him back for so long. If he couldn’t be part of it, not part of the little thoughts and threads, then stay at peace and still, for he doesn’t want the darkness that follows to engulfed your running water thoughts and gentle breathing.

Michael wished he didn’t have to be here, but the police were closing in like a pack of hunting dogs to a fox. He had nowhere else to go, but he felt thankful in a way. He’s looking over a sleeping angel with the moon tangled in their hair, making a halo of hope and bliss. Apart from breaking into your home in the dead of night with dry blood on his boots, he felt blessed to be gifted with this vision of you.

Gently, he lifts his mask, taking it off, and placing it quietly on your dresser. He two to steps, just striding without effort, and stood over you. He basked in the moonlight view of you, wishing he could take a photo and have it in his pocket. Michael pulls his hair back until it was resting on his shoulder and knelt on the floor in front of your sleeping face. The monster felt human for once. The shadow over this town faded until there was a man just looking back in a reflective surface. Slowly, he inched closer to you, daring his courage and thoughts, until he felt your breath, cool and smooth, on his lip. Michael shuddered at the thought of your lips on his, marveling at the thought of you waking up and embracing him as a man, not as a monster, as a killer, and as a lunitic that escaped. Thoughts of being normal carved into his bones until he felt them turn into dust, and he felt more and more at home as he looked at you.

You’re on his list, his check list.

He had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to call home, yet he found it here with you sleeping in an oversized shirt and gym shorts. He found it sleeping soundlessly under tangled blankets and a small mountain of stuffed animals. The peacefulness that flows from your heartbeat and blood flow...he wanted to be a part of your more until thoughts of him being in you, physical and mentally. He wanted to be a part of your story and live a thousand tales with you. He was just there, right there! So close to your sleeping arms and blissful lips that he began to hunger for—

Not like this. No... he can’t do this like this.

Michael withdrew from your side and stood up, blocking the moonlight from making your skin glow. He licked his lips as his eyes marveled and memorized each curve and mark on your body. He turns, picks up his knife, and takes his mask. He gives you one last glance, one last moment for his eyes to gaze over you like this and leaves your room for the living room. He sits down on the rocking chair and leaned back into the cushion until he felt his eyes drift off. Sleep called for him, for the man who never slept before a day in his life. As his eyes closed, his last thoughts were spared for you and your moonlight haloed hair.

[daydreamingyuta]

NCT as Husbands Series: Johnny Suh

summary: fluff, drabble, husband!johnny wc: 830 nct as husbands masterlist

Johnny is such husband material!! He's genuinely soo thoughtful and sweet! like I always think about jcc and how he picks things to do based on who's in the video with him and what they would enjoy doing. which is why I would say one of his love languages is for sure acts of service! like he would always do the little things for you, that you may not even notice.

Also really big on communication. Anytime there's conflict in your marriage he's sitting you down and talking through it until you find a good solution. which I think is also a way that he shows he loves you because usually he can just brush things off, but with you he makes sure you're both on the same page and fully understand everything from each other's perspectives.

Johnny as a husband is also just so much fun! like there's not a day that goes by where he doesn't flirt with you like crazy. You could be twenty-five years into your marriage and he's still making you blush. He also loves to travel with you. He's always loved traveling and having someone who he can experience the world with is soo precious to him!!

I also feel like he would be in a constant battle with himself on how to impress you more and more by his good husband skills. Like he became a husband and all of a sudden it’s his life mission to make you the single happiest wife on earth. Especially with making sure you're taken care of!

Johnny enters the front door, too tired to even properly lift his feet causing them to drag. The combination of not getting enough sleep and dancing for hours straight was taking a toil on him. He knows immediately that you're not back from work yet, the atmosphere in an empty home just feels different somehow. He figures that you must be working late again. If he wasn't married, he would probably just go to bed right now without properly taking care of his needs, but he is married and he knows that you'll be hungry when you get home. He quickly checks in the kitchen to see if there's something easy to cook, but he doesn't find anything. He settles on taking out his phone and ordering takeout. He has a page on his notes app of all your favorite things to order from different restaurants just for situations like this. Yes, he could just ask you what you want, but sometimes being surprised with your favorite food just made it taste that much better. He places the order and then walks into the bathroom to wash his face, in hopes that it might wake him up a bit. However, once he flips on the light switch, he notices one of your face masks laying on the counter. "She must not have had enough time to do it last night." He thinks to himself, making a mental note of this as he brings his cupped hands full of cool water to his face. ⸻ It's not long after the food arrives that you come home, just as exhausted and hungry as Johnny figured you'd be. He gives you a sympathetic pout before he brings you into his embrace, letting you stay for as long as you want. It's two whole minutes into the hug before you finally notice the smell of your favorite takeout. You pull away from him and place your hands on his shoulders. "Did you buy me food?" "Maybee." He says, giving you his sweet smile. All your energy must have come back to you at the thought of food, because you rushed into the kitchen to grab a plate for the both of you. "Actually, I was thinking we could put on face masks together, sit on the couch, and eat while you tell me about your day." "Genuinely Johnny, I would love nothing more." You say, following him to the bathroom. "Actually, this is perfect because I was wanting to do one yesterday but got too tired." "Oh really?" He says, pretending like he hadn’t seen the face mask earlier.  You two put your sheet masks on in the bathroom and then go over to get your food. You sit on the couch in a criss-cross position as you tell Johnny all about your day. Actually, one of your coworkers recently had a very dramatic breakup with her boyfriend, so Johnny was all ears. "You know, It's actually so hard to eat with a sheet mask on, baby." Johnny says, adjusting his mask that started to slide down. "But it's worth it, it feels so nice," You say, setting down your food and helping him with his mask. You get it back into the right position and then kiss him on his temple which puts a proud grin on his face because he knows getting you food and doing face masks together made you happy. 

[adiraargent]

Challenge - Levi Ackerman

Levi Ackerman x reader

The walls of the barracks were quiet, the only sounds the distant clanging of blades and the soft whispers of soldiers preparing for another day. You leaned against the cool stone, watching the light shift through the narrow windows, contemplating your place in this relentless world.

Levi Ackerman had always been an enigma. His presence commanded respect, yet he often kept others at arm’s length. You admired his strength and resilience but struggled to decipher the layers beneath his stoic exterior. You’d had your eyes on him for a while, sure he was a bit mean and had a resting bitch face, but he was tidy and he was handsome. His cold eyes and smooth skin… his soft hair, the way his muscles showed through his uniform when he moved even just a little bit

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the training yard, you found yourself alone with him. He was cleaning his blades, each movement deliberate and precise. You hesitated before approaching, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Why do you linger?” he asked, not looking up from his task. You stood up straight, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way that you had been staring at him while you pretended to be busy cleaning your boots.

“I was just—” You fumbled, heart racing. “I wanted to see if you needed help.”

He finally glanced at you, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. “Help? I can handle my own equipment.” You gnawed at the inside of your lip, worried this was a bad idea.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I just thought… maybe we could talk?”

He sighed, placing his blade down. “Talk about what?” He looked at you, his heart thumping a little bit faster than usual. He knew you well, you were in his squad and had spoken many times, he really liked talking with you, though he didn’t plan on admitting that of course.

You hesitated again, then took a step closer. “About everything. The fights, the losses… and us.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by indifference. “There is no ‘us.’ There’s the mission and the people we protect. Focus on that.” He had already lost so much, he knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with the pain of losing someone so close to him, so he made sure to keep you at a distance all these years, constantly reminding himself not to grow any attachments.

His words stung, but you refused to back down. “You think I can’t care about both? You’re not just a soldier to me, Levi.”

For a moment, the air was thick with tension. Levi’s expression softened, just slightly. “I don’t do well with attachments. They only lead to pain.”

“I get that,” you said softly, “but isolating yourself won’t protect you from it.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as you stood anxiously in front of him, trying your best to keep up a confident facade

He studied you, as if searching for something. “You don’t understand the weight of this world.” He was right, you’d been on his squad for only 2 years and somehow you’d always been sent with a group that rarely attracted the attention of any titans. ‘Lucky’ you had called yourself, though hearing that someone you were close too wasn’t coming home was enough to make you want to die every time.

“Maybe I don’t, but I want to share that weight with you. You don’t have to carry it alone.” You didn’t know everything your captain had gone through, but you knew he’d seen stuff that was enough to drive an ordinary man completely insane.

He stood, the space between you suddenly feeling charged with unspoken emotions. “You think you can change my mind?”

“I think you deserve to feel something other than pain. Just let me in.” Levi shuddered slightly at your words, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

A long pause stretched between you, the silence echoing your heart’s desperate plea. Finally, he stepped closer, the distance shrinking. “You’re persistent.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Levi’s lips curled into a rare, almost imperceptible smile. “It’s annoying.”

You chuckled softly, relief washing over you. “Maybe I can live with that.”

He held your gaze for a heartbeat longer before stepping back, the barrier still there but slightly more permeable. “Just remember: I’m not easy to love.”

You met his eyes with determination. “I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

With a slight nod, Levi turned back to his blades, but the tension in the air had shifted. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, you felt the possibility of something more—a connection forged in the fires of battle and tempered by understanding.

And as the last light of day faded, you stood by his side, ready to face whatever came next together.

[katanablue]

I am also a Leo girl especially from the 2007 film. I was wondering if you can do a one shot where the female reader is going to a wedding as a bridesmaid and she is wearing a blue dress like Leo’s mask. When she gets back home to her apartment she calls Leo to stop by to not only see her in the dress but to also dance with each other since he couldn’t go to the wedding for obvious reasons and if you are comfortable can lead to smut. If you are not I completely understand. Just something fluffy and romantic

Oh hell yeah, first request 👹

Warnings: fluff, romance, suggestiveness, Leo being cheeky lmao

You let out a heavy sigh when you finally step back into your apartment for the first time since early this morning, dropping your giant tote of bridesmaids items onto the ground and walking into your kitchen to grab a drink. It’s nearly midnight when you return, the reception of the wedding for your best friend having gone way longer than originally intended.

Songs were danced to, lyrics were screamed, tears were shed, hugs were shared and many times was the word ‘congratulations’ thrown around. It was a wonderful time and a beautiful wedding but there’s only one thing that would’ve made it better, for you at least.

If a certain mutant turtle was able to be there with you, enjoying the night and sipping on fancy cocktails while you danced across the floor.

There’s a bit of a bittersweet sigh that passes when you think about it, knowing that the two of you could never really do things like this, not in the public eye at least. You love Leo wholeheartedly that much is true and you wouldn’t change him for the world. Who he is, is who you fell in love with.

But something does tug at your heartstrings thinking about having a first dance with him as a married couple in front of all your loved ones.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when your phone lights up, Leo’s name flashing across the screen. With a grin you walk over and pick it up, leaning against your counter.

“Hi sorry, I just got through the door. Was about to text you.” You hum, glancing down at your blue bridesmaids dress.

Your idea hits you like a freight train, eyes going wide and lips parting. You were so absorbed in it that you almost didn’t hear Leo calling your name over and over again.

“Come over.” You say suddenly.

You hear him stop mid sentence, followed by a slight laugh.

“Now? It’s late, darling.”

Even though he says that he’s already halfway off the couch and heading towards the Lair exit to make his way to you.

“I know I know, I just wanna show you something.” Your voice is soft, bringing a flicker of warmth through Leo’s chest. He laughs again, questions swirling in his head as to what you’d wanna show him so late at night.

“I’m on my way, see you soon.”

——

You wait anxiously in your living room, alternating between sitting on your couch and standing up and walking around. You’re just about to get out your seat when you hear two gentle taps on your window, turning your head and seeing Leo on the other side with a tender grin. With quick steps you stand up right as he lets himself in, smoothing your hands down your dress when you see his expression morph in awe.

“Wow… you look…” His eyes go wide as he comes closer, hands automatically finding their place on your waist while he admires you in the floor length blue dress.

Nearly the same exact shade as his mask.

Sure he had seen how you looked in pictures you sent him prior but it didn’t compare to seeing it in person, especially how it contrasted beautifully against your lovely skin. He runs the tips of his fingers across the silk, marveling at the cool sensation before flicking his gaze upward to you.

“You look beautiful.” He whispers, bringing you an inch closer to him so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck. His hands glide up your back, grazing across any exposed flesh and causing shivers to cascade down your spine.

“Worth coming over in the dead of night?” You tease softly and go to drape your arms over his shoulders.

He chuckles and nods against you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Very.”

Before you allow yourself to get lost in the sensation of Leo holding you close, you step back and reach for your phone on the coffee table. Leo keeps himself in your neck, peppering featherlight kisses across your skin while you look for the perfect song.

You feel his hands start to travel lower towards your rear when you hit play on your phone, the soft romantic tones filling the silence. Leo picks his head up to watch you place your device back on the table, your lips upturned in a dazzling smile.

“Dance with me?” Your voice rings sweet in his ears, Leo adjusting his hold on you while you do so around his neck.

“With pleasure.”

And so the two you sway side to side, all throughout your living room, with Leo giving you a spin or two as the song plays. It comes to an end far too soon for your liking and before you can grab your phone, he halts you.

“Let it play.”

So you dance for three more songs, each melody guiding the two of you through an unspoken choreo that made you laugh and feel butterflies all over again, reminiscent of the first time you truly felt in love with Leo. At the end of the final song, he dips you with a kiss, holding you tight with one hand splayed on your back and the other resting just above your hip.

He holds you there for a few seconds, kissing you, relishing in the feel of your plush lips and your nails gently raking over the expanse of his shell. The beginnings of a churr start low in his chest, easing its way up through his throat as he pulls you impossibly closer. He lifts the two of you back up but keeps his mouth close to yours, hands now gripping everywhere on your body. One palm circles the globe of your ass before grasping it in his three fingers. You can feel his grin grow against your mouth, a playful nip at your bottom lip when he smacks your cheek at the same time.

You gasp in surprise and pull back to see his heated gaze and instantly you know what he wants.

“This dress look incredible on you.” Both hands come to rest on you, kneading the fat gingerly like dough.

You let out a breathy laugh, tilting your head back just enough to expose the tender flesh of your throat, Leo’s lips and teeth crossing over with nips and kisses.

“Thought you’d might like it better in person.”

His churring increases in volume as he guides you backwards towards your bedroom, slipping his palms to under your thighs to lift you up and around his waist. You clutch tighter to his shell, tossing your head back in a laugh as his pace increases to get to your room. With fluid motion he turns and bumps your door open with his shell, quickly spinning back around to drop you onto your mattress. A fit of giggles sound from you as you bounce, your dress hitching up near your knees.

The look Leo gives you has you shuddering in anticipation, making your fingers dance down your thighs and curl under the hem of your dress. Tantanizingly slow, you pull it up and reveal your panties, Leo groaning low when he sees that they’re a lighter shade of blue.

“Wore these on purpose, didn’t you?” He rasps, pushing your legs open more to fit himself in between them. His gaze is heated, those pretty brown eyes nearly molten with desire for you.

“You ever gonna wear this again?” He goes back to kissing your neck, hands working their way up your inner thighs, squeezing and grasping harder with every move.

“Don’t think so- why?” You moan softly when he presses himself against your core, his three fingers tucking under the sides of your underwear to yank them down.

“It’s not gonna be much of a dress when I’m done with you.”