#and Whisper's real name is literally a cry for help and also sounds like the spanish word for whisper

[bee-ships]

Sometimes I name characters and things the silliest things that come to mind and some other times I am playing 4d chess with the name meaning

[sooniebby]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝟯: 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲/𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲

Bottom trans male reader. Reader’s lower part is called interchangeable: cunt, pussy, clit, folds, heat, hole. No mention of anything feminine. Reader has had top surgery.

“Is… the rope necessary?”

You were dressed in your Halloween costume, a very simple makeshift murder victim. A tired white shirt with fake blood splattered all over it. Jeans that you purposely tore and also splashed some blood on it.

The real “kill wound” in your costume was a fake slit throat that you had. It was starting to feel itchy on your neck after being at this party for over two hours now. The blood on your face had uncomfortably dried up a bit that you just wanted to wash it off.

The guy you were with, inside some random room. You didn’t really know who owned the house. You were just here for free drinks and candy.

He was dressed pretty bland compared to you.

Just a nice dress shirt and dress pants. You wondered why he’d wear something so nice to a college party like this.

His white shirt was unbuttoned now, letting you see his chest a bit better. Which was nice as you were currently being tied up. He wrapped the rope around your chest and shoulders, leaning it down to circle around your hands.

He was slow and methodical, making sure it was tight but not too tight. You were a bit too drunk to complain about him taking too long. Hey, if he needed bondage to get off, so be it!

“W..what are you anyway? Such a boring costume..”

He glanced up at you and smirked. You saw the faintest sight of fangs. Ah, vampire.

Eh, he could’ve done better.

You yawned, getting comfortable on the bed. Wow, this bed was so soft. All that alcohol was making you a bit sleepy. And this bed wasn’t helping you.

With a jolt, you glanced down at the man as you felt himself slap your thigh. He didn’t say anything, just finishing his touches on your bondage. You could still move your legs and if you tried hard enough—you could slip your hands free though it would hurt your wrists to do so.

“Are… you going to speak?” You whisper, watching him move down to your jeans. He glanced up at you and with a smile, turns his attention back to your pants.

You spread your legs open to give him space as he.. quite literally tears your jeans apart?!

You cry out in shock, sobering up a bit at the sound of tearing jeans.

“D..dude?! What the fuck..?”

He paid you no mind as he reached your boxers and also teared that open. Fuck, he was going to ruin your clothes to bits at this point. You squirmed a bit, wondering just what the fuck you were going to do after this with no pants or boxers.

You watched as he leaned close to your legs and began to kiss it. His kisses were wet as he trailed down to your wet heat that was beginning to ache to be kissed itself.

His fangs.. which.. felt real in a way, teased your skin. You grunted, wishing you could just reach down and tangle your hands in his curls but your hands were tied.

“Jeez… those fangs of yours feel.. real, man.”

He stopped for a moment and glanced up. His eyes just staring at you before looking down as he pressed a soft kiss on your inner thigh. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the softness.

Why weren’t most one night stands this nice?

You gasp as you felt his kisses on your pussy this time. He was soft—just pressing kisses on your folds while one of his hands teased your clit.

“E…mhm.. ever eat… cat before?” You drunkly joke.

He looked up at you unimpressed. You pout. Hmph, this guy just didn’t know what a good joke was.

His breath was really the only sound you ever heard from him. But you wanted him to talk. So badly but you didn’t know how to get him. You had come up to this room with him because of his teasing on your waist and you thought he’d start flirting with you.

But no, just started binding you.

“Name..?” You muttered, thinking maybe he’d be nice enough to tell you.

But he didn’t. He leaned in and began to lick your pussy, slow and methodically once more. You flinch, your legs accidentally closing on his head. He grunted in discomfort and moved his hands to grab your legs and force them apart.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit happy.

You got him to grunt!

That’s something..

He was sucking and licking your heat with a sense of ownership—eyes staring straight at you as he watched you try to move your hands against the bondage. Your lips were parting constantly as moans left your throat, filling the room.

You couldn’t really help yourself that you began to try and ride his face. He didn’t seem to mind as he allowed you to do so. You whimper and whine, his nose was a bit good to ride on.

Huh, maybe you should stick to sleeping with man with long noses.

The drunk thought leaves your mind when he pulls away. You whine and pout at him, wondering why he’d pull away. His lower face and nose was wet from your slick but he didn’t seem to care at the moment.

He reached down and pulled open his pants, his cock slipping out. You blinked in shock. Holy fuck, that cock was huge.

Maybe.. eight inches?! Jesus, what type of man needs eight inches???

You glance down and watch as he grips his cock and rests it against your cunt. He gently rubbed his cock between your folds, earning a sharp gasp from you.

You were biting your lip in excitement—even if the thought of such a large cock was scary.

But he didn’t slip inside of you.

His cock began to rub against your pussy, getting between your slick folds. He reached down with his free hand and placed it on your hips, gripping it tightly as a way to keep you still.

“W…c’mon… inside~” you whined.

He continued his thrusting against your folds, his cock constantly rubbing against your clit. His grunts began to fill the room, overpowering your moaning.

You felt as if you were being used.. but honestly it made you excited.

You just wished he said something to you.

Praise. Degradation. Something!

Much to your shock, his cock began to cum. He moved his cock between your folds and cummed right near your hole—teasing you with the thought of him pushing his cock inside and just filling you with cum.

He pulled away after a second and reached down, scooping up the cum that was dripping from your pussy and fingering it inside. You began to squirm and twitch, hips thrusting upwards as you cried out.

Finally… something inside!

But then he pulled away.. again!

“F…fuck you! I wanna cum, man!” You grunted, wishing you could just reach down and make yourself cum.

He simply smirked and patted your stomach before pulling away. You watched in shock as he buttoned up his shirt and pants and… left.

He fucking left.

You panicked a bit, wondering what the hell were you supposed to do now?! As you shuffled around the bed, trying to force your hand out of the bondage, the door opened again.

He was back.. with water and a bowl of grapes.

He sits down on the bed and makes you sit up but makes no effort to untie you. You part your lips and gladly accept the water, humming at the cool drink blessing your dried throat.

Huh, you didn’t notice that.

His lips pulled into a smile as you saw you begin to feel comfortable once more. Once the water was finished, he grabbed the bowl of grapes and began to feed them to you.

He was.. taking care of you? Oh, this was nice.

You hummed in delight, starting to feel sleepy again after being mildly taken care of.

“You.. do this with everyone you fuck?”

He didn’t answer. Stupid man. He placed the empty bowl on the night stand and made you lay back down again. Getting between your legs, he pulled down his cock.

You didn’t know if eating and then fucking so quick was smart but eh, you were still a bit too drunk to truly care about that.

He leaned over you, staring over you as a smirk pulled on his lips. Staring at his teeth you began to notice his fangs were a bit too real. It looked as if they came straight from his gums.

“You.. must’ve put most of your money into the fangs, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow, as if in a way telling you that you’re wrong. You gasped at the feeling of his cock pushing inside of your tight heat. His cock was stretching you but you couldn’t help but sigh in relief—happy to fully be fucked.

His thrusts were different from his other one. No longer slow and methodical. He was like a beast, his hips slamming into you as you squirmed and cried. Your cunt tightened around his cock with each thrust.

“S…so good! Fuck.”

You cummed in no time, arching your back as you screamed out. But he didn’t stop, his thrusts were even faster now—forcing you to squirm as your body was being forced to cum again so quickly.

You could’ve sworn you were squirting at this point.

But he hasn’t cummed.

And he wouldn’t cum for a few minutes as your body got tired from the constant and back to back squirting. Your body was limp by now, your pussy lightly clenching at this point. The only sound leaving you was soft little whimpers.

You couldn’t even speak properly now.

He leaned down, pressing kisses on your throat. You hoped he was close soon, your body couldn’t handle another orgasm. His teeth grazed your throat as he moved down right where your shoulder and neck connected.

And he bit.

You screamed out, spasming against his body that held you down to the bed. This wasn’t just a simple bite, his teeth—no fangs, pierced your skin.

“W…h…!”

Any sort of pain you felt was soon pleasurable. You began to softly moan, trying to move your hand but still not able to. He continued to drink.. just like a vampire before pulling away after a few seconds.

His lips were stained with your blood, turning them red in color. A few drops slipped down his chin and his eyes were blood red. He reached down and gently rubbed the spot his bit, giving a bit of comfort for it.

You felt something warm inside of you now… oh, he came. His cock slipped out of you as white cum slowly dripped out of your aching hole. Your breathing was light and soft…

You somehow felt content.

He grinned down at you. His black curly hair was no longer neatly laid like before. You tried to truly look at him now but all you could do was whine about the ropes still bonding you.

He pulled the bondage off and began to rub your wrists, pressing a kiss on the mark it left on your skin. His eyes trailed your body. The only thing you had left was your shirt.

“You…you’re….?”

He smirked.

“B…wh..?”

He hummed and walked over to the closet in the room. He pulled out a long coat from it and wrapped it around your body. Much to your surprise, he picked you up easily.

You whimper but glance up at him, wondering what he was thinking.

“Y…you..? Wh.. a… college..?”

He looked at you thoughtfully as if he was actually thinking why he, a vampire, came to a college Halloween party. But he simply shrugged. He looked close to your age, but perhaps now getting a better look, three to four years older.

Physically at least.. who knew how old he was mentally.

“Wh…ere..?” You mutter, starting to feel so tired. But you weren’t sure why.

“Home.”

Your eyes open in shock as you stared up at him. His voice was nice and velvet. So smooth and deep. You wanted him to keep talking. Please, keep talking.

“Sleep. You were good… so I decided…”

He leaned down a bit to your ears, gently nipping it as you hummed, snuggling a bit in his arms.

“To keep you forever.”

Realistically, that was such a fucking scary thing to say. An immortal being taking you forever.

But.. you were drunk and happily satisfied by sex you knew no one else could possibly give you.

How long was forever anyway…?

Eh, you only meet a sexy vampire once.

You get it? He edged you with his cock and his voice… a true edger… does that make sense? Lol, anyway, hope this was sexy enough cuz he doesn’t talk basically at all! Why he doesn’t talk..? Don’t ask, I just thought it’d be sexy

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @smellwell @tehyunnie @ofclyde @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @kaedezu @tomoeroi

[cheolhub]

NAMJOON NSFW HEADCANONS😫

NSFW HEADCANONS! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐

— A.NOTE: MY GOD. joon day coming soon, i have so much prepared for him ;) THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST!! he’s so 😩 i cried writing the last few i love him sm… but hopefully you all enjoy! sorry for any errors :,)

ngl, his first time with you is suuuuper awkward– he’s stuttering, overwhelmed by you, probably cums too fast… but rest assured every time after is mind-blowing

joon’s is a natural leader so it’s no surprise that he’s dom leaning in means of power play

we all know he’s packing. HUGE if you will– he understands that, but he can’t help but have a size kink

you just look so cute crying over his stupid, big cock, he can’t help but get even harder at the sight

even still, he’s a very soft dom (usually), focused on giving you pleasure and praising you for taking him so well

says things like, “you’re so good, baby, takin’ my cock so well,” or “you’re so gorgeous when you cum all over me, so fucking pretty all for me,” :( says all the right things to make you fall apart under him

joon likes calling you pet names, baby being his favorite, but he also calls you pretty girl, sweetheart, angel, his good girl </3 etc.

he lets you top him sometimes, but he typically prefers to be in charge

there are some days, though, when he wants to absolutely ruin you

with your consent, of course, he is a real man 

whether he’s had a bad day or you’ve just been overly bratty or if the bartender's eyes lingered on you for a few seconds longer than they should have 

he can and will fuck the life out of you like a hard, mean dom

will degrade you, but only with praise mixed in

says things like, “pussy’s suckin’ me in so well, such a good little slut,” and “you’re my pretty whore, ain’t that right?”

when he’s mean, he has a bit of a daddy kink

he just likes it, you sound so pretty when you’re whining and withering out, “daddy! daddy, please!” he swears you’ll be the death of him

his favorite position is cowgirl (who’s surprised) cuz he likes how you look riding him

watching you fall apart on his cock makes him feral and he always ends up fucking into you and playing with your tits (namjoon is a tit man, do not fight me on this)

and when your thighs burn and you simply can’t, he flips you over and fucks you so nice and deep that you’re turning into mush

another thing, he’s loud (not up for debate, like at all.)

he moans and groans and grunts and just when he’s about to bust, he whines and it’s fucking hot coming from such a big man

when he’s super close and his cock is literally throbbing inside of you, he starts babbling about how good your pussy is and how you’re made for him and how much he loves you :(((

aftercare with namjoon

the best in the world tbh, definitely the best within the group

his demeanor completely changes, the man that once dripped with dominance was replaced by his usual, nervous self

so, so careful with your body as if he didn’t just ravish you a few minutes prior

cleans you up quickly, makes you drink lots of water, even brings you a snack to “replenish your energy”

he makes you pee after because he read somewhere that you’re supposed to so you avoid infection (always says it in a sheepish voice while awkwardly scratching his neck T-T)

 showers with you (if you’re not too tired) and washes your body for you while apologizing profusely for being so rough with you (even if he wasn’t being rough, he just feels bad)

and when you’re out of the shower, he dresses you in his shirt and a pair of your own panties and gets into bed with you and literally clings to you like a perfect embodiment of a koala bear

he whispers in your ear and reminds you how much he loves you and thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world until you fall asleep entangled with him

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

I know you’re requests are closed but I had an idea for a Mickey fic and I’m an awful writer and you’re amazing so imma just leave this here. What if reader and Mickey are both the Ghostfaces along with Nancy and they’re both like, literally insane. Like to the point where after they kill they gotta fuck then and there whilst covered in their victims blood blah. blah but in the end Nancy kills one of them and it makes the other completely fucking INSANE for revenge.

OKAY! SO! Anon! I fucking love this ask. I went so hard. I hope you enjoy this enemies to friends to lovers over 7K massive fic! I stretched out the timeline of Scream 2 because fuck you, this is fanfic and we can do whatever we want to! I love this request and where it leaves off? I already have a sequel planned and mostly plotted. So thank you Anon seriously. Also, shoutout to @mrsaltieri-real for helping me out on this one! You are the best.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.9K. Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Ghostface! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Reader Is A Killer. Reader Has Anger Issues. Fighting. Taunting. Teasing. Mickey And Reader Are ASSHOLES To Each Other. Blood. Gore. Murder. Death. Mild Fluff. Enemies To Friends To Lovers. Ghostface Partners In Crime Couple. Mickey Is Crushing Hard. Angst. Hurt. Crying. Emotional Pain. I Apologize In Advance.

—

“So Good To You.”

—

You never cared much for the idea of getting a college education, or at least that is what you told yourself because financially it was way out of reach for you, an impossibility. That was until you got an offer you simply couldn’t turn down, what that offer was? It was for a free ride at a college by a benefactor with money to burn and some revenge she needed to be carried out. It would be a hindrance for some, but not for you. The reason you were chosen was because of not only your previous experience with this, but your outright willingness to spill blood. So you accept, you follow her instructions to the fucking letter and arrive at school in September. 

Once moved into your dorm, a few days into college you were meeting up with her in person, all the correspondence up to this point has been online and on the phone, meeting her had to be done carefully. The meeting is not even in town, the process must be delicate, and the wrong people cannot see you together lest there be talk and suspicion. When you show up and see that she is not alone you are confused, when you sit down, and she explains that you are not the only student she is “sponsoring” you are pissed.

You don’t hide this either, gripping your menu, so tightly it might bend, speaking in a hushed yell whisper, “Nancy, what the fuck?”

He, whoever he was, agreed, leaning forward and voice low, “Yeah actually, what the fuck?”

Nancy tried to have a measured response, attempting to calm you both, she set her own menu aside, fingers laced together, hands resting on top of the tablecloth. She says your name and then his, “Mickey-” you scrunch your nose, who the fuck is named Mickey? Like the fucking mouse? 

“-I have to make sure this happens. You both know the motive and I figured having two of you would make this better, all the easier. I can be very hands-off and honestly, you are both such great talents. How could I choose just one of you?”

That pissed you off further. You keep your voice hushed, not wanting to be overheard, “It sounds to me more that you don’t think I can handle this myself and that I need some shitty fucking guy’s help to kill.” 

Mickey scoffed, a roll of his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he said, “Yeah, you are such an empowered woman who doesn’t need any help to kill. So tough. So strong. If you are so capable, why do you need someone to fund your college career?”

You hated him. Everything about him. His stupid spiky hair, the dumb shade of blue on his sweater, his face, his voice, what he said in tone and also in content. “It’s called a scholarship. I know it’s a big word, you’ve probably never heard it, and what about you? She thinks that YOU need a woman’s help to kill, how sad is that for you?” 

By the way his eyes narrowed, you feel like he doesn't like you either. Good. You don’t want him to. 

The dinner is tense, but you manage to make it through and Nancy makes it clear that if you want to go or if he does that you can, but she will pull her funding and whoever is left will get to do it alone. You don’t back down and neither does he, so you are forced to work together, and you accept this fact with extreme reluctance.

The plan is for you and him to get as close to Sidney and her friends as possible, to insert yourselves and get in the right position at just the right time to make sure that this happens just as Nancy wanted. You did, and you were barely able to restrain your rage against him, it comes out sometimes, everyone else thinks it is an affectionate thing, a long-running joke of both of you disliking each other and exchanging barbs, but no one thought it was serious. 

You had to get used to his presence, but that proved to be difficult, you would sometimes get so riled up after an argument with him that you felt like screaming and ripping your hair out, he got under your skin in the worst way possible. You got to him similarly it seemed, you sometimes knew he left your interactions being the one who could barely reign in his temper, part of you liked getting to him like that. 

Staying away from him and avoiding any time you and Mickey were solo was a must, but sometimes you can’t help it when you are in the same friend group like this. You and he were at the same party and Sidney left to go use the bathroom, and Randy went to go get a drink, and that left you and him in proximity.

You and Mickey were both leaning against the same wall. He speaks first, “Getting real friendly with Sid there.” 

You smile, proud of yourself, you were making a great impression, fantastic progress, you allow yourself to indulge in feeling pride as you agree with his assessment, “Yeah, I am.”

“She seems super invested. You do know that you need more than a low cut shirt to get her fallin’ all over herself for you, right?” He turned to face you, and you turn too as you respond, “Yeah unlike you, I am not a total slut, I am not trying to fuck her.”

“Why not?” He asked, and you laughed into your cup, making sure to keep your voice low enough just for him to hear, “Who am I? Billy Loomis? Gonna fuck her then gut her?” 

He shrugs before taking a sip from his own cup, a swallow before he says casually, “I’ve read your papers in film class, derivative is your whole thing.” 

“Is it now?” You ask and he says, “It is. Taking from someone great, and regurgitating it back out as if it is some amazing new or profound thought, something original all your own, when it very obviously is not.” 

He was such an insufferable asshole. 

You swallow what is left in your cup and then push off the wall, “I need another fucking drink if I am gonna have to be around you.” 

He lets you go. 

After lunch one day you, and he ended up in the same direction, you don’t want to deal with him and so you pick up the pace, walk faster, and he makes sure to speed up too, “Awe where you off to in such a rush? Gonna be late for your gender studies class, princess?” 

“Gross, do not call me that shit.” You say as you adjust your backpack, rolling your eyes before you retort, “You ready to fail that test tomorrow? I know you haven’t been studying.”

His hands are thrown up, eyes skyward and a grin as he says, “Heaven forbid, I wanna enjoy the college experience and make the most of it out and about, not with my nose in a book all the time.” 

“I think you could stand to be a little more well-read, you are painfully fucking dull whenever I am forced to talk to you.” Breaking off for the turn you head towards the building for your next class, he calls after you, “I am so, so hurt. Hey, don’t forget to spell women with a y, you’ll lose points otherwise, okay?” 

He knew just how to really fucking bother you. 

You know how to bother him, too. 

A different day, you and him were meant to have a meeting with Nancy. You were waiting for her to arrive, and he was boasting about how he had gotten in with Randy and Derek, you said, “Finally, took you long enough. It’s weird, though, considering that you are the fucking worst.” 

“I’m the worst?” He asked, and you nod, “Yes you are, I don’t know how you pulled it off, I have seen your acting ability.”

His hand rubs over his eyes as he asks, “You insult my acting ability now? What is wrong with it?” 

“Mickey. Virgin teens faking on prom night are better actors than you are.” 

His jaw drops, brows pinch together, and you pile on before he can respond, “You seem so chummy with Randy though, you blown him yet orrr?”

Nancy walked into you both locked in another augment, and she slammed the door, making you both stop. “Can you please, please, for the love of God, not fight for one day? I know it must be very hard, but do it for me?”

“It isn’t my fault she is such a frigid bitch.” He spits, and you say back, “Rich coming from the school slut, seriously, do you sweat chlamydia?” 

Mickey opens his mouth and Nancy cuts him off, “Please, save it! Can’t you be the bigger person here?”

Mickey doesn’t even look at her, eyes locked with you, he says, “I know you are a real maternal figure, but I am not your fucking son so can you not talk to me like I am?” 

You have to bite back the laugh you were about to bark out, and Nancy was just done, thoroughly over you both and your petty rivalry. “If you both don’t knock it off, I will call off the whole thing!”

That had you and he both turning to her, “You can’t!” 

It is reminiscent of a tired parent on a car trip sick of hearing, “Are we there yet?” and responding with, “I will turn this car around!” When she tells you both, “I can, and I will if you don’t play nice at least in front of me!” 

You and Mickey both know she is serious. You do your best to chill the hell out and just get through this without killing each other. 

The road is long until the first kill is meant to happen. You and he have ebbs and flows of seriously deep hatred, neutral times of acceptance and even an instance or two of actually kind of getting along, at least on the surface. Below that, you still find times of hating each other.

One night after yet another tense meeting, after yet more endless frustration, you and he locked in another fight it happens without you meaning to. Both of you are just too pent-up and when he spits, “I am so tired of you being such a bitch, have you tried loosening up sometimes?”

“How would you recommend I do that in between keeping a low profile, getting closer to Sid and the rest, and keeping my grades up?” He tells you with crossed arms over his chest, “I’d recommend you taking a good dick every once in a while.” 

“Does it always gotta come back to that? Just fuck my stress away and that will fix me?” 

“Why not try it?” And he says it so smugly, something inside just snaps inside of you, leading to you both being in your bed. Your clothes don’t even totally come off, it is a messy hate-fuck, “I knew you wanted me-”

Your teeth sink into his throat, a sharp bite that makes him jerk back, his hips faltering as you respond, “I don’t want you, this means fucking nothing, you mean fucking nothing, okay?”

 “Fine, fuck.” Another roll of his hips pulls a moan from you before he mutters out, “Crazy fucking bitch, just stop biting me.”

A terrible idea hits, and you execute it, a slap to his face as opposed to a bite and it is so shocking, catches him so off guard he has to actively fight the urge to cum. “Better?”

You ask sugary sweet, and he grits out, “I fucking hate you.” 

“I fucking hate you too.”

Hate fucking when the wait for the plan to kick off becomes a somewhat regular occurrence, one neither of you chose to acknowledge unless you were splayed over a surface together.

Currently, you were in Mickey’s place. You and he agreed to head over to a party together to meet up with everyone else, you were in one of those times when you didn’t totally hate his guts, just mostly did, so you could tolerate his presence. You were getting impatient, you were a punctual person, and he was not when it came to things like this. You were tapping your foot on the bottom rung of a stool as you sat at the bar as you waited, calling out to him while he is in his bedroom, “What are you doing in there? Jacking off? I’d like to go sometime this century.” 

“Yeah, I bet you like to think about that.” He called back, and you scoffed, “As fucking if.” 

While you waited, your eyes flitted over the bar, and you noticed there were scattered papers about, you are so bored you start to sift through them, looks like some kind of project he was working on. You look further, wondering what it was, you skim pages and words caught on, “slice” and “blood”.

You start to look further, flip through pages, and you find descriptions of murder, violent kills, strangulation, knives stabbed into warm bodies. You read of terrible brutality and the feelings that are invoked while experiencing it. You become so absorbed in the reading when his hand touches your shoulder, you jump nearly a foot in the air, heart hammering. 

“Catching up on some reading?” He asked with a grin, and you roll your eyes as you shake off his hand, “Creep.” 

“Says the girl who is currently rummaging through MY shit.”  Your eyes are back on the papers, ignoring what he said, and instead you ask, “What even is all this? Some fucked up project for a class?”

He takes the seat on the stool next to you, “It’s my work before coming to school.”

Your eyes go wide, you look at him, “Wait is this-”

He brightens further, “A scrapbook, yeah! I was rearranging it before you showed up, got a bit too into it, lost track of time, so I couldn’t clean it up before you came in, and then you were fucking rushing me-” 

“Holy fucking shit, you have a scrapbook of your previous kills?” You flip through, detailed accounts, pictures, small souvenirs, more still. It was amazing but also infuriating, how the fuck did you never think to do something like this? Most you had was scrawled out diary entries post kill, but this was truly in depth, a testament to his commitment to wielding a knife and bringing pain.

He leans closer, starts pointing out particular details, and you have to admit, an impressive body of work, clear effort put forth into this catalogue of violence. “She was the first. She was in my math class in high school, the kind of girl who thought she was way too good for everyone, you know the type.” 

His eyes meet yours, a taunting smile, and you find yourself letting out a laugh. He kept talking, and you kept listening until he says, “You are being awfully quiet.”

“Am I not allowed to be quiet?” You ask, and he laughs, “No. It just isn’t like you, normally you make your opinions very painfully known.”

You sighed, “I just can’t get over what a good idea this is, I’m fucking pissed I didn’t think of it myself.” You admit, and he laughed louder, “I got one up on you and you admit it? Fuck, it is a good night.” He gets up, collects the papers and puts them in the open box nearby. You try to stop him, “Wait, where are you going?”

You ask as he takes the box back to his room, and he says, “We have a party to get to, remember? I’ll let you read it in full another time for you to cream yourself over, alright?” 

Yeah, sure, cream yourself over is what you’d do. You are simply curious about his work before you both met, you liked getting a feel for him and what he had done, it only makes sense since you are going to work together. He comes back and you both leave, but that night you had to admit is what started the shift, you started to look at Mickey a bit differently, had more respect for him. He obviously had skills to back up his talk, it was a comfort as well as just nice to get to know him on this level. No one else understood that side of you, getting to talk with someone else who has killed, he understands the depth, the complexity and more, you didn’t know how nice it would be.

After that night, you and he talk some more about it, his kills and yours, it is bonding, and it goes from hating each other and somewhat tolerating to being more like co-workers. A different night you were in your dorm room alone and both going over what your pasts. He showed you his newly minted scrap book, and you read aloud from your diary about how your first date ended in your killing the guy. 

“How often have you gotten blood in your mouth?” He asks, and you gagged jokingly, “Too many times! You never think that it is gonna spray like that until the first time you slash a throat, right?”

“Seriously. Okay, okay. Least favourite part?” He asked, and you groaned, “Disposal, dead weight is such a bitch at times. Once a guy almost got away from me, I cornered and killed him at the bottom of some stairs, but once he was dead I had to drag him back UP those same stairs.” 

“Fuck, how did you do it?” He genuinely asked, and you tell him, “With ropes and determination. How about you?” He hums, “My least favourite part has to be when the chase goes on for too long. Nothing worse than being winded before you even get the knife in them, feel like I can’t enjoy it properly, and I hate to do a rush job like that. It’s like the option is taken from me.”

“Lack of control is truly the worst.” You agree. 

While you felt closer, a small kinship as well as more mutual understanding, Mickey could still be a bit much at times, you still clashed on occasion, but those times were becoming fewer and further between. It makes the path to the plan easier. You study on occasion, able to have meals together, Nancy is pretty pleased you’d both calmed down, and you find yourself consumed with regular daily life. The hate fucking isn’t so hateful and has also slowed considerably to a near stop.

When you got the go ahead, you and he were giddy. Alight. It caused one of the worst fights you had with him where you insisted that you be the first one to kill, you wanted to show that you could, prove yourself and also, it had been so, so fucking long since you had. Eventually, Nancy sides with you but insists Mickey be nearby in case shit goes screwy, and you can deal with that. 

You revel in it. The phone call, the break in, the case and the actual kill. You being on top of her, stabbing her, running her through with one hand as your other is over her mouth. She struggles and whines, and you feel powerful, watching the light drain from her eyes the same way the blood does. 

Perhaps you linger just a touch too long, but you just can’t help it. Mickey comes to get you, urge you out, and then he sees it, the aftermath. You still sitting on top of her in your costume, the knife to the hilt inside of her, and you turn, ghostly white mask with small spots of red and his breath catches. He read your accounts, you’d talked in depth, he’d killed people himself, but this, seeing it, you, post kill, was a totally different animal. 

You pull off your mask, hair a mess, face sweaty with the effort, a manic smile as you ask, “What’s up?”

He lingers by the door of the balcony you were on, stuck in the threshold, the sliding glass was acting like a metaphorical doorway as much as a physical one, a turning point, one that cannot be forgotten or ignored. A shifting tide, your relationship, how he viewed you, permanently changed. His mouth feels dry, he swallows and says, “We have to go.”

“Shit, yeah, you’re right, just got a little uh-” You look down at the body, pull the knife out and drive it in one last time, you sound gleeful, “-stab happy.” 

The laugh spills from you both unbidden and then, you flee the scene of the crime. Costumes stowed in bags and knife hastily wiped down. He couldn’t stop looking at you after that night. Every time he saw you, it was like you went from black and white static to live and in colour, as if he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. He had it and had it so fucking badly for you, it was embarrassing. 

You could get him, understand him on levels no one else could or probably ever would. 

Mickey started treating you differently. You think it is because of what he saw, he finally was respecting you and sure it was part of it, but much more than you could have realized went into it. He was being much more than pleasant to be around, he was nice, fun to be around, he wasn’t an asshole like previously and slowly, much, much too slowly, after many meals bought, coffees given and notes shared you figure out that you think, he has a crush on you. It slips through even when with your “friends” and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Especially because he doesn’t hide it. He is kind, he flirts shamelessly, he makes his wants and intentions known.

You don’t know how to deal with or process that. 

So you don’t.

You let him treat you better, you feel previous hate and anger melt, but you write it off as friendship, nothing wrong with that considering what you were doing. You take his compliments with a smile, you laugh off his over the top promises of “I’d be so, so good to you.” with a wave of your hand.

The plan continues on, stretches out from days to weeks, Nancy claims she wants Sidney to really suffer, and you aren’t going to question or complain. 

The next kill is up to Mickey, you weren’t able to be there, but you got to see him after. Amped the fuck-up and excited, he told you about it all, how it went. “He was so pathetic, you should have seen him, begging for his life, crawling on the ground, oh my God.” 

You watched him pace back and forth, animated hand gestures, his t-shirt was sticking to him from the sweat, your eyes aren’t sure where to linger, defined arm muscles or that wide sick smile. He flops onto the couch beside you, a large exhale, “It was fucking incredible.” 

“And what are you feeling like, right now?” You asked as you looked down at him, and he says as his head pitches to look up at you, “I am feeling fucking starving. You want to order in a pizza?”

So you did. You ate sprawled on the floor and talked about the fact everything was meant to ramp up soon, that you and he were expected to both go in hard within the next few weeks. 

It still goes on, you and both grow closer, another kill here, one there until finally there is a night where you have to murder together. The talking beforehand is frantic, both planning what was going to happen, honestly excited to do this together. You and Mickey started off hating each other's guts, but that seems so far away now, you and he were actually good friends and a united front on this plan.

It doesn’t go well at first.

The struggle is hard, you and he almost lose the two people you were planning on killing, but you manged it. Watching Mickey up close, not only that but you both doing this together, it makes something in you and your perception of him change. It is startlingly intimate, you are so in the moment, weirdly in sync with very little verbal communication, at one point you are gutting one of them while he holds them down and even through the masks, you know your eyes are locked, you can’t see his gaze, but you feel it. 

It’s then. Between the smell of blood, the sweat making your black robe stick to you, over the screams of your shared victims, that all of it hits you.

It all comes crashing in, you thought he was the only one with a crush, with deeper feelings, that is not the case. You’ve come to realize that you have feelings for him too, deep and intense, scary and all consuming feelings, you care about Mickey and more than as a friend, a fellow killer, a partner in crime. You like him. Old memories flow through your mind now tinged differently, a highlight reel of neon recollection, synapses sparking, forcing you back, dragging you along to really look at those moments in the new light and context of your now fully exposed feelings. Raw and wriggling and out in the open air for you to contend with, screaming for acceptance and to be dealt with in some fucking fashion.

You had liked him for a long while and were far too stubborn and stupid to realize it. And you can’t ignore it any longer.

Snapped back into the moment you are staring. His strong gloved hands around the bitch’s throat, you can see the power he has, the way his arms strain from the effort, you can’t look away. 

Once it was over, once they are both dead, you and he had to separate, and it made your mind run. You were so nervous, you trusted him completely now.

You knew Mickey was more than capable, but still, the thought of him actually being caught, you don’t know how you’d handle it. The sudden change steals your breath, you feel crushed by your new feelings, the unexpected care you feel for him.

The emotions run high during a kill night on the best of times, but the rough and rocky start, the joined act of killing, the fact the police presence as stepped up, it all mixes together. You were worried, very fucking worried, and that makes you terrified. 

When you come back to the meeting point, he is already there, his mask is taken off, and you hastily remove your own. Staring across the space at each other, heavy breathing, and the look in his eyes upon meetings yours, he knows. He knows you feel differently now, and it can be felt in the air. You stride forward first as you exhale out, “Thank fuck you’re okay-”

As soon as you are close enough Mickey’s hands are on the sides of your face, pulling you to him and his mouth crashing into yours, swallowing you up in him, preventing you from speaking, stealing all words, you return his affection hastily, clumsily and with a moan of relief. Even during all your hate fucking, it wasn’t like this. There were no presses of your mouth to his, the only times your mouths were used were to bite, cause pain, or on occasion give each other some truly rough but brutal oral sex. 

You are greedy, need to make up for lost time. You kiss him hard, want to make him as breathless as you are, more than the chase made him. You and he end up on the couch in his place. Costumes are long forgotten on the floor. His hands wander, touch you all over, help pull clothes away and aside, “I’ve been thinking about this so fucking much.”

A laugh slips out as you straddle him, helping him out of his shirt and throwing it aside, “Yeah Mickey?”

He takes in the view of you in just your pants and bra perched on his thighs, his hands run up your sides, fingers press over an already flowering bruise left from when one of your murder victims kneed you in the ribs. You hiss slightly, a sharp intake of air from the stab of pain, you retaliate, fingers in his hair, you thread, twist and pull. He gasps, smile widens, and he nods as much as you allow, “Yeah, been thinking about you just like this.” 

“Just like this?” You grind on his lap, bare down on his clothed erection, short muted sounds of pleasure leave you both as you lose yourselves in the action, the friction before he manages to get out, “Almost, there are no clothes in the way, and I am buried deep again in that sweet fucking cun-”

You pull even harder and his sentence breaks off with a groan as you prompt him. “Stop talking and start doing.” 

He was losing it. Normally whenever he hooked up with people he was sure, in total control, but you got the drop on him. He should know better, especially after all the previous very violent hook-ups. 

At first, he was on top, or rather, he was trying to be, but all of a sudden a leg was around his hip and hands were on his broad chest pushing him until he fell onto his ass, back propped up on the arm rest of the couch. You settle into his lap quickly, straddling him and then lowering yourself, taking him deep, to the hilt, before he could protest. The moan leaves him on an exhalation at feeling how soaked and hot you are. His hands are on your hips, and he rocks up into you once before your hands are in his hair once more. Fingers thread anew, wrap around and twist before pulling, it makes his eyes shoot open, a harsh inhale from the pain, brows knitted together in confusion when you tell him firmly, "Stay fucking still. This is for me right now, not you."

He is shocked, stunned, your tone so harsh, leaving no room for argument, and you start to move, hips rise and fall as you ride him for all he's worth.

You look fucking stunning, gorgeous, and you feel even better. 

He didn’t know he could be so into this, but he thinks it is because it’s you. He has seen you kill, seen how capable and powerful you are, he is so fucking into you, feels so deeply for you, he thinks you could carve your name into his flesh and he’d beg for more. The praise tumbles out between groan and gasps, timed with the falls and of your hips, the rolls of your body, and it makes you laugh breathy, “You are really into this.” 

“Been a, fuck, while.” He confesses, and you slow your hips, “Mickey, have you kept it in your pants? Stopped fucking half the student body?”

You knew he was seeing other people in between your fucking for a while, but when you and he stopped, did he not get his fill elsewhere? He shrugs, tries to seem unbothered, but it’s hard when his hands are gripping your hips so tightly, browns pinched together, you clench on him and his head is thrown back against the arm rest of the couch. Sweat is down his temple, tendons in his throat as he swallows thickly, “Been busy.”

It is all he can force out. This is serious. Mickey the slut stopped screwing anyone else because he was crushing on you so severely. He did really like you, holy shit. Not an act at all, he was so consumed with you that fucking other people wasn’t something he wanted. 

The emotion radiating off him is filling you, bleeding back into you, and you let it take you without trying to show it too heavily. You fucking care about him, you really fucking do. 

Your hand below your waist, quick fingers bring you to your peak twice in short succession as you ride him before he finds his own high. The first time is frantic, needy, more about getting it out of your systems after so long without. It is undeniably satisfying and thoroughly enjoyable. 

The next time happens that same night. With reheated Chinese and in his bed. You talked about it all, how the kill that night went and in the process worked yourself up once more and made the shower you shared after your time on the couch utterly pointless from how sweaty you got again. 

After that night, you were together. You and he often fucked, maybe more than you should, but you just could not get enough. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t really fucked anyone other than him since getting here over a year ago. Times in your dorm or his, shared showers, traded oral in places that you shouldn’t like between library stacks. Once you had sex in the band pit of the theatre, your hands over his mouth and his over yours as you worked to keep quiet, him thrusting up into you, and you are slamming down on him as you worked each other over, bringing him and yourself to Earth shattering pleasure. 

Both of you kept it more hush, hush, but another secret just added to it. You didn’t run from your feelings, nor did you attempt to hide how into him, you were. The dates squeezed in everywhere you could also try to make up for your stubborn bullshit earlier. Affection was, often, moments of tenderness and vulnerability in private were shared. 

There is a moment that you keep coming back to. 

Another kill. You and he are blood splattered, you had a quickie next to the body, a rushed moment of passion with you pushed over a desk. Your legs were shaking from the strength of the orgasm he fucked out of you. Over the past while you’d gotten much more comfortable with him taking control, it wasn’t a fight for dominance, it was shared responsibility that you give into as often as he does. His cum was leaking out into your panties that you had just pulled back into place. You were heaving, body slick, and resting for a moment when he comes around the desk. His mask is pulled up, and he leans down, gloved hands come to your face, one hand holds the knife in his leather clad grip, the other holds your cheek. You feel the knife handle against the opposite side, and he moves in, he kisses your forehead half-in-half-out of his killer garb, and you melt. You smile up at him and he returns it. 

The lies and secrecy shouldn’t turn you on like this. Lying to Sidney and everyone else, the high you are both on from so far getting away with it is immense. You and he are too perfect of a fit.

It’s the day of. You and he are about to head out when the urge strikes. “Hey-“ Your hand quickly reached out and grabs his wrist, pulling him back from the door, so he was stood facing you again. His hand dropped to your waist, and he smiled down at you, that stupid damn devastating smile you used to hate that you now couldn’t see yourself living without, “- before we do this, there’s something I wanna tell you. Just in case.” 

He noticed you looked almost nervous, weight shifting from one foot to the other, he had never seen this emotion on your face before, and he knew exactly what was coming before you took a deep, unsteady breath and opened your mouth to speak again. “I lo-”

“Don’t.” He said quickly, eyes wide, raising his hand to place it over your mouth, an action you had both done to each other God knows how many times in a much different context. “Save it. Tell me after we’ve won, okay?”

You rolled your eyes slightly, prying his fingers away from your mouth. “God, you’re such an overdramatic dork, Mickey. Okay.”

It was stupid. You shouldn’t have listened to him. You should have said it.

You and he and Nancy were in the theatre with Sidney. The monologue was underway, big speeches, reveals, shock and awe. You’d been watching from afar, waiting for your cue to come in, when it happens all too quickly. Sidney made Nancy so angry so fast, unable to control herself, and she points the gun and with a simple move of her finger, the trigger is pulled and all of a fucking sudden just like that night your world is coming crashing in. He wasn’t expecting it, the bullet holes in his chest pour blood out rapidly. 

You are frozen in place. Rooted to the spot. You watch as his body falls. Here then gone. Stole from you in a single moment, no time to react, nothing to do, no time to process either. He was ripped from you, and it takes a moment for everything to come back into focus. Sidney and Nancy are struggling, and you find the strength. 

You move. 

The weapon in your hand is used on Sidney, not the way you’d intended to, the butt of your own gun is smacked full force on the back of her head. You knock her out and let her fall to the stage. You are left standing there with Nancy, who is wondering what you are doing. You are holding up the gun, pointing it straight at her, questioning her in the same way, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

“Why are you pointing that at me?” She asked in seeming disbelief, and you scoff, “Why do you think?! I heard you! I heard what you said, I watched you shoot Mickey, I know you want me dead next, right? Clean up the loose ends?”

You spit it at her with vitriol before you do your best impression of her annoying voice during her speech to Sidney, “There was a big scuffle, and you-” your foot kicking Sidney’s boot for emphasis, gesturing down to her with your other hand, “-shoot Mickey-”

Saying it makes you sob. Tears start to stain your cheeks, “I cannot believe you! Bringing us here, making us do your dirty work, and you were planning on killing us the whole fucking time!” 

“What, did you really think that he’d get away with it? His big plan about blaming the movies? What jury would believe that-” She shouts, and you stomp your foot, “Shut the fuck up, that isn’t the point!” You weren’t going to tolerate her speaking ill of him, not while he is still bleeding out in the band pit, you kept talking, “You double-crossed us!”

Your gun moves down, and you shoot, getting her in the knee. She crumples under the weight of her own body. She is on the ground, and she is the one sobbing in short order. You make your way to her, you step onto her busted knee, grinding your boot down into it and revelling in her anguished screams. Blood gushes and you still are not satisfied. You sink down, you lay into her. First the gun across her face, teeth are knocked out, displaced and rattle as they roll across the wooden stage. 

You hit her again and again, next the gun is dropped, your hand takes over, punching her, nose breaks, cartilage cracks, bones snap, she is coughing and wheezing and weak. Your knife is removed from the holster stored in your boot, and you hold it to her throat, “You are such a stupid fucking bitch.”

She was delirious, and you slammed her head against the stage, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Her eyes are unfocused, but they are on you, “This is your fault. You are going to die, but you didn’t have to. You killed him first, and now I’m gonna kill you.”

The response is weak from her dry cracked lips, “Why?”

“Why?” You asked, a bitter laugh, you hold the knife closer to her throat, “Dumb cunt wants to know why? Sure, I can tell you.” 

A deep inhale before you say, “You brought me here under false pretenses, made me work with one of the most annoying and insufferable people I have ever met in my life, forced me to be around him and in the process made me realize that…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it, but you instead say, “-That I care about him. That I needed someone else who could truly understand me on this level, who cared, who showed me how I deserved to be fucking treated and then, you just…You kill him, snuff him out, like he was nothing!”

You feel the tears falling again, “After all we’ve done to make your fucked up dream of a revenge plot come true, and you expect me to just lie down and take it when you kill him?!”

You can’t see her properly, not through how watery your eyes were. A steadying breath before you say, “And the way you did it. With a gun? It is insulting! Where is the intimacy? The care? The artistry, if he had to die by murder, he deserved better! Do you care about the art form at all?!”

You are tired of her, the anger and sadness had been bubbling up, it all comes to a head and bursts, the knife slices through her throat, she is choking on her blood when you tell her, “I’m not playing along, I’m not doing your stupid plot, not anymore. I’m rewriting it, Sidney’s gonna live.”

You don’t stop there. The knife is forced into her over and over. By the time you are done, her stupid white unflattering white suit is stained completely red. 

Getting up from the complete mess, you look over your shoulder, Sidney is still passed out. This is your chance to run, but you can’t. Not yet.

Your steps are tentative, your knees hurt from how long you were on them while hunched over Nancy’s body while you were killing her. Your hands shake, and you peek over the edge of the stage and see him down there, amongst upturned band chairs, and your breath is stolen. You and he hooked up down there weeks prior, and now he was down there, looking wrong, totally fucking wrong. He looks lonely, and you hate that, you move quickly, one hand on the edge of the stage, and you jump down, it hurts your ankles from the height, you don’t care. 

You stay there with him. You cling to him, you are reminded of that conversation, your least favourite. Dead weight. Quickly going cold, lifeless eyes staring up, past you, to some point on the ceiling, unseeing. You let yourself cry. You want to say it, tell him the depth of your feeling want to force the words out, you want to tell him you love him, but now it doesn’t feel right at all. He should have been able to hear those words from you while he was alive, while you still had a shot at a future together, whatever it would have looked like.You let yourself say this at the very least. 

“You were right…” You sniff, you wipe at your cheeks and say, “The time we had was short but fuck. You were so good to me. I should have let you be good to me sooner. I should have been better to you, too.” The next words sit heavy on your tongue, no matter how much you want to they are left unsaid, and you make yourself leave him. 

Before you do, there is one thing that feels necessary, like you have to. Hands cradle his face, one hand still holding the knife, and you lean down, you press a blood stained kiss to his forehead, near his hairline just like he did to you before. A mirror of that previous act of tenderness on a scarlet tinged afternoon but so much sadder because it was the last moment like this you’d ever have with him and again still, it was totally wrong. He can’t feel it, because he’s dead.

You get up and with one last forlorn look to him, you run. 

Sidney wakes up unscathed but dazed, Mickey dead and Nancy too. You hadn’t revealed yourself, she hadn’t seen you, Nancy and Mickey hadn’t made mention of you, you’d been wearing gloves and there was none of your blood or DNA at the finale’ site, so you got away with it. They think the last person is still at large, but they have no clue who. 

Your sadness is understandable, your real grief is able to be spread around, it is believable that it is for Hallie and Derek and everyone else but Mickey on the surface. You and Sidney drift apart. You tell her it’s too hard and she more than understands, she was initially suspicious at first, but you were too good an actor, your alibis too well planned and airtight. 

The unmarked account that your tuition came out of was still full. You intend to transfer to a different college next semester. You can’t stay here, the idea of graduating from here without Mickey is horrible. You need a new state, a new school, a fresh chance to try and attempt to move on. It’s after winter break at that new school that you meet. 

The events happened over a year ago, and you were still not doing good. Still sad, you wonder how you can ever process this pain, this total loss, no way can you talk about it, no way another person could ever understand. 

Until that is one fateful day, you get a knock at your apartment door. You answer it and standing in front of you is a ghost, one person who you thought, just like everyone else, was dead, and maybe, perhaps, the only one who can relate to you. 

Brows furrowed and gripping the door, so your legs won’t buckle, you asked nervously, in total shock and disbelief, “Stu Macher?”

He grinned with a point to himself, “That’s me. Can I come in?”

[rs-hawk]

Ok, i saw the god husband and disabled husband head cannon thingy you wrote and immediately had this idea. God husband patiently holding hubby's hands as they try and get him to walk, like full on comforting words, gentle massages to disabled hubby's legs after physical therapy, disabled hubby crying into god daddys chest, the whole shebang. Fluffy angst babe, FLUFFY ANGST

This is so cute!

Part One

You know you’ll never be able to walk unassisted again. At least, not for long periods of time. It doesn’t matter how hard you work because some things are just unable to be changed. You have to acknowledge how you have to give up things you’d taken for granted. Hiking. Camping. Soccer and tennis on the weekends. Hell, even just carrying two armloads full of groceries up the stairs.

You try not to let it bother you too much, and despite growing up to realize how toxic your parents and the Patriarchy are, you can still hear their voices in the back of your head.

You’ll never be a real man.

Real men don’t play the victim.

Suck it up like everyone else.

A real man wouldn’t let this stop him.

You have to swallow it down as much as you can because you don’t want your Husband to know how much it hurts you. You still struggle with saying His name in His native tongue (learning a whole new language is hard after all), so you’ve taken to calling Him 𐓀𐓘͘𐓻͘𐓘͘ or “Land”. Every time you call Him this, He grins. Green, cool lips spreading across His face as He looks over at you. The warmth and love in His eyes makes you flush slightly, but that only makes you find excuses to say His name.

He starts insisting that you start physical therapy. You cringe at the idea. You know it’s wrong. You know it’s not true… but you can’t help but feel like that’s admitting weakness to strangers. Surely you can handle this on your own, right? 𐓀𐓘͘𐓻͘𐓘͘ frowns each time you tell Him you don’t want to, or come up with an excuse to get out of it. Eventually you relent after noticing His leaves and flowers wilting. He immediately brightens up when you say you’ll go.

Of course He has to wait at home, but when you get back, He starts asking what exercises you should do at home. Is there anything He can help with? He’s so proud of you for taking this step. From then on you both have a routine of Him rubbing your legs and lower back before and after physical therapy. He also stops holding you in His lap so much (despite Him clearly still wanting to) because He understands you still want your independence.

Once you can start to walk somewhat, He holds your hands, letting you take small steps across your living room. He’s in full bloom, literally beaming with pride as you make it across the room for the first time. You chuckle and tell Him how cute He looks like that. You think you notice a darker green tint to His face. Is He blushing?

You think you’re making great progress, until you take a turn. Suddenly even standing makes you feel weak and your knees give out. Your doctor explains that this happens sometimes, but you could still start to improve again. It just depends.

That night you don’t even greet 𐓀𐓘͘𐓻͘𐓘͘ when you get home. He’s waiting for you excitedly, flowers tilting towards you as if you are His sun, but you brush it off, rolling past Him. You slam the bedroom door, pulling yourself into bed. You choke back a sob, but when He comes in and asks how you’re doing, you can’t hold it back anymore.

Fat tears roll down your face as you hiccup out that choked sob. His face is unreadable, and after a moment He wipes it off completely. He always does that when He’s upset. He curls up to you on the bed, His long legs hanging over the edge even as He curls around you, holding you to His chest. He presses the side of His head to the top of your head.

“Time and progress is such a human concept,” He whispers, sounding like the wind blowing through the trees. “Nothing is set in stone, even if it’s the only outcome anyone can see. Everything can be changed, but even if it’s beyond your means, it doesn’t mean that you have failed. You are more than just your present. You are your past and future as well. This moment isn’t the only one that exists. You live every moment at every point in your life. Your highest and lowest exist all at once.”

You sniffle, furrowing your brow. “What does that even mean?”

He still refuses to put on a face, but you can still tell that He’s looking at you when he cups your cheek. “You might feel like this is the lowest point for you, but I still see your best moments, even those yet to come.”

You wipe your face, as if trying to hide your tears. “Yet to come?”

Now is when He makes a face again, smiling softly as He brings those cool, green lips to yours. “Your happiest moment is yet to come. This is not your ending. It is a new beginning.”

[zivazivc]

Reading the tags of your recent Kunoichi Turtles post that Female Casey has a bit of a flirtatious personality has led me to headcanon that when Lavinia starts crushing on David (I think that’s Mona’s genderbent name in your AU?) she goes to Casey for advice and tips on how to flirt with a boy but when actually trying to use the flirting tips on David she fails miserably (like that flirting lesson scene from the movie Jumanji), but unknowingly to Vinnie the bad flirting worked and David is smitten XD

AHAHAHA! XD I would literally cry from second hand embarrassment if an episode like that existed. Maybe, maybe, I can see that happening a few "episodes" after David's first introduced into the story, after Vin finally comes to terms with her emotions. Because in this version the relationship progresses slowly over the course of like a season and a half (a lot of that due to David only visiting when his job demands it), and Vin has cold feet like for most of that time lol

David is the one who gets smitten with Vin first in my story and starts making subtle advances while Vin is completely on edge and skeptical of them and needs a while to realize that he actually likes her in a romantic sense, for real, and doesn't have some ulterior motive. After that she's just very awkward and tongue-tied about it.

You know how Raph kept telling Donnie to give up on his crush because they're all giant mutants that won't ever get a chance at love? I wanted to put attention on that part from canon since the show didn't give me that with the canon Ramona. Raph being a teenage girl can only make that mind-set worse, giving him/her more insecurity and self-hatred. Especially since Vin is the biggest of her sisters and the least "cute" and feminine of them. So I don't see her making the first move in any situation, and I think she'd only flirt after it would be made clear the other person feels the same way.

Ahh, sorry, that got a bit serious maybe. The two actually have a really sweet and healthy relationship (y'know, in my head, where it's been living rent free for years now lol), Lavinia just has to work out some things first before she's angst free.

In this AU we first meet David in the episode Newtralized, where David and Sal are trying to arrest the Newtralizer. Slash is there (he's an all-time baddie in this version), Vin gets captured thanks to David getting in the way of the fight, David feels responsible and goes to save her -> bla bla bla -> Vin has a rescued princess moment that she doesn't know how to feel about...

I've been trying to make this episode into an actual fic for the longest time. On the topic of Casey, I'm showing you a short section from the wip. It takes place toward the end when they've all reunited. I think it's also a good example on why Vin would not go to Casey for romantic advice XD

.

.

.

Casey leans in close to her face, her hooded eyes joining her friend’s thoughtful gaze on the young Salamandrian on the other side of the rooftop who is currently listening to his veteran commander going over what had happened while they were split up.

“Look at him standing there,” she says to her smoothly, almost whispering into her ear, “dark skin over toned muscle. Those abs, man.”

“Casey!” Vin cries out in shock and horror and swings around to face her friend’s smug smile.

“Like a chiseled renaissance statue,” Sofie helps with uncharacteristic coyness to her smile.

“Sofie, no!”

All four of the girls are grinning like Cheshire Cats at Lavinia’s discomfort, enjoying themselves way too much. Vin’s cheeks and nose are thoroughly covered in a deep blush and she hates that it’s there in the first place. She doesn’t even like the guy.

“David the Statuesque! That’s what I’m naming him.” Marie exclaims, sounding proud of herself for that one. “I was going to go with something more fun but since he’s your knight in shining armor—Literally!—I gotta be respectful.”

Vin can’t even hide her tortured grimace. Her shoulders sag and she sighs miserably. “I hate you guys.”

[captainnameless]

Charles has had the worst triple header I feel so bad for him :( Disqualified in COTA, booed in Mexico and a DNS in Brazil.

Poor boy just needs a hug and maybe one of Sebastian’s hoodies to wear. I feel like Lewis would get a call from a very distressed, tearful lil baby and be at his drivers room in 3 seconds flat, desperate to help him stop hurting.

Of course no pressure if you don’t feel like writing this. Also your minifics literally make my day <3

baby has just had a stinker of a season really, i saw a post where it explained all 17 races so far and i’m pretty sure Charles has had only 4 “clean” ones where nothing (bad) happened that was out of his control.

also i feel like shit so maybe writing baby charles feeling like shit will lessen my own achy chest.

Charles had dealt with it all so well, the heart break of another failure that wasn’t his, facing media and sports journalist and fans. They’d spoken briefly after Lewis had gotten out of the car, between his own interviews and Charles seemed okay; promised he was. Albeit tired.

When Charles’ name flashes onto his screen Lewis barely takes two seconds to answer, takes even less time to get up and out of his own hotel room when he hears how distressed Charles is.

Lewis sighs as he jogs through the halls of the hotel, trying to figure out where Charles’ room is, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him this is his fault. That he shouldn’t have let Charles leave alone but self reproach isn’t going to help the younger.

He still has Charles pressed to his ear on the phone, but they aren’t speaking, Charles is crying too much to be coherent anyway and Lewis’ heart sort of shatters when the sound of Charles’ cries is accompanied by a visual when he steps into Charles’ room.

“Oh, darling..” Lewis breathes, ending the call and locking the door behind him, kneeling down to join Charles on the floor and pull him into his lap.

Charles just sobs, embodying a wet noodle while Lewis manhandles him into his lap.

“You’re okay,” Lewis tries to soothe, holding Charles close. “You’re alright, breathe with me.”

Charles doesn’t seem interested in breathing, his eyes screwed shut while he hiccoughs into Lewis’ chest, hands clutching at the sweater Lewis is wearing.

Lewis frowns, he’s never seen Charles this upset and it’s a little unnerving. That same voice telling him he’s not good enough to be taking care of this. Lewis pushes it away.

“Charles, poppet.. Hey.” Lewis tries again, squeezing Charles tight and pressing their faces close together. “I’m right here, you’re safe, you’re okay. Breathe.”

Charles does lean into the touch, the grip of Lewis’ sweater loosening with every gasp-y breath he takes with Lewis, body slowly relaxing against Lewis’ chest, shaking stopping.

“Daddy!” Charles cries once he catches his breath, more tears leaking from his eyes.

“Shh.” Lewis soothes, brushing Charles’ tears away. “We’re gonna call Daddy in a second okay, see if he’s awake. Gotta calm down a little more for me okay?” Lewis hopes Sebastian is still awake, their time zone only 4 hours behind so he’s liking their odds.

There’s a soft whine that leaves Charles but no real protest as he stuffs two fingers into his mouth, trying to lessen his tears.

“Good boy,” Lewis whispers, still softly brushing the tears off of Charles’ cheeks and pressing soft kisses to his forehead until the tears have stopped leaking from his eyes.

Charles flushes under the praise, noticeable even with how red he already is from crying and buries his face into Lewis’ chest. “Daddy?” He asks again, this time muffled.

Lewis shifts to get his phone out, pressing the favorites tab before tapping Sebastian’s name. It goes to voicemail the first time and Lewis panics only a little but Sebastian answers on the second call.

Sebastian doesn’t even speak before his face contorts with hurt as their picture fills the screen, eyeing up a distraught Charles.

“Charlie, no, what’s wrong?” Sebastian asks, Lewis can tell he’s leaving whatever room he’s in, moving somewhere more quiet.

“Daddy.” Charles just says, voice miserable and mumbled around his fingers, still pressed against Lewis’ chest.

“Daddy’s here, on the phone. I’m sorry I can’t be with you, sweetheart.” Sebastian looks miserable saying, probably wishing for a teleportation device. “But you’ve got Uncle Lew, huh?”

Charles nods and Lewis holds Charles a little closer, pressing another kiss to his head. “I’m so glad you called.”

“You called?” Sebastian asks, full of praise. “Good job!”

They both know Charles has struggled asking for help with Sebastian off the grid, so Sebastian makes sure to praise him for it every time.

They sit and talk for a bit, up until Charles’ eyes start drooping, exhausted from the emotions and the tears.

“Bedtime,” Sebastian declares through the phone, and there’s an immediate pout on Charles’ lips. “Did you have a shower yet?”

A small smile plays on Lewis’ features, amused at the pout. He knows Charles hasn’t showered yet, still in his track clothes.

“Not yet,” the younger answers.

“So shower, then bed. You need the rest, sweetheart. We can call again tomorrow, I promise.” Sebastian says.

“No.” Charles whines, taking the phone out of Lewis’ hands to hold it closer.

“I’ll stay with you, huh?” Lewis adds, knowing he cannot replace Sebastian, but he knows Charles doesn’t not like the substitute.

“Sounds good,” Sebastian answers for him and so Charles nods. They end the call after an almost tearful goodbye that Lewis manages to control, helps Charles into the shower before rummaging through his suitcase to get him something comfortable.

All soft and warm out of the shower Charles basically falls asleep the second Lewis pulls him into his chest, blanket covering them both.

Lewis presses one less kiss to Charles’ damp hair before closing his own eyes.

[diorsbrando]

so bc it’s your fault akira is on my mind all over again, i can’t stop thinking about him having a size kink bc he’s so so so big omfg. and i still stand by the fact that he likes chunky girls who he can fold beneath him and drown his dick in their pussy bc it’s simply the best feeling in the world. you’re thicker, warmer, your pussy gets wetter and you drench the sheets and the dark happy trail on his lower abdomen. akira goes absolutely feral for stuffing you full. you’re so small under him that when he’s leaning over you, his chest is the only sight you have. usually no sight at all considering you’re crying and sobbing so much you can’t focus on anything but the feeling of him pounding his heavy dick into your sloppy cunt. squelching with every brutal smack of his hips bc he’s so aggressive it makes your head fuzzy.

your thighs burning from the stretch of having your knees pressed firmly by your head for so long since he has you in his favorite position; the mating press. your tummy jiggles with every snap, tits occasionally in his salivating mouth he can’t help but suck and gnaw on. the bed squeaks so much and the walls echo with your filthy whines and his barbaric groans and grunts, sounding awfully close to his devil voice. sometimes you can even feel his dick grow bigger inside of you. akira has his mouth hung open, face construed in pleasure with his forehead against your creaking gray headboard with tiny diamonds all over. akira is a talker, and a moaner. and he does it so much it’s second nature at this point. unaware that he’s speaking to you so much. and he forgets what it does to you. your pussy clenching and pulling him deeper when he whispers in your ear and call you out your name. your voice kink satisfied every time. his favorites?

“ooo fuck, baby. could stay in this pussy all fuckin’ day.” or “take that shit like a good girl. you’re so sweet letting me fuck you like a slut.” or “so cute how fast you switch up after i put my dick inside you” if he’s punishing us for being a brat. one thing he can’t stand is a brat and you’re the biggest one he’s known. having to check you real quick by shoving his dick in your mouth or beating your pussy raw to shut you the fuck up. just … akira <3

MOCHA WAIRREMWMWM?!!! ! HOLD ON A DAMN MINUTE OMGGGGGFEE WAIT! LET PULL MYSELF TOGETHER RQ. literally rolling around my bed biting my arm bc im tryin not to moan or make any whining noises bc THIS!! HIM?!??? this was so hot i need him BAADDDDD like the feral feelings is unreal. let’s dissect this little number here

after thinking about him for the last 24 hours AND finishing dmcb and reminding myself how big he is in human and devil form? oh yea a size kink is INEVITABLE. he def like thick girls bc he needs something to grab on to, he loves the pudge and fat he squeezes when he’s reshaping the walls of your pussy. he likes to see it spill from his fingers when he does that roll of his hips and hits that spot inside you. laWDDD HAMMERCY just reading this makes my head fuzzy there’s no way you came up with this on the spot …. there’s no way you write tHIS GOOD.!?! AND AND U ALSO INCORPORATED THE IDEA OF HIM BEING A BRAT TAMER‼️ YESSAAAANMWMWMAMSWDUXWKW YESSSS UGHHG THE WAY U DESCRIBED HIS SIZE COMPARED TO OURS…..im wet asf. and don’t even get me started on the things he SAYS in our ear when he’s drunk off our coochie???!????!??!2!3: id literally cum on the spot. thank you so much for blessing my inbox PLS COME BACK W MORE

[ghostdrinkssoup]

and we’re back with another hannibal notes/reactions (s1 ep7) except it’s just the silly goofy ones:

why does will talk about the ripper with such reverence 😭

gotta love the camera coming out the throat

why is hannibal acting so cute I want to crush him in my fist

franklyn is a weirdo but maybe I’m a franklyn apologist hannibal brings out the inner weirdo in people </3

hannibal is so phantom coded he wants to be the phantom soooo bad

HANNIBAL’S FACIAL EXPRESSIONS HE’S SO PUT OFF BY FRANKLYN FR

tobias casually outing franklyn like that’s the first red flag 🚩

the lingering look hannibal gives tobias… killer sees killer (but also it’s flirtatious as helllll gay sees gay)

JUST REMEMBERED BEDELIA APPEARS IN THIS EPISODE I’M BLUSHING AND TWIRLING MY HAIR <333

will is so babygirl this episode idk what it is maybe it’s the hair

will is like u don’t know him like I do (the ripper, who he has never technically met)

I kinda wanna see that church kill. sounds slay

franklyn is in his parasocial arc someone grab the “I am not your friend” meme

hannibal is honest but not honest I fucking hate him *holds him so gently*

“I have friends” WHO KING WHO

hannibal is grinning, moving around, so openly animated and childlike around will. he’s got the biggest crush too oh dear

“especially for evening appointments 😊💖🫶”

they are literally on a date hello

HE LOOKS AT WILL SO FONDLY killing myself

NOT WILL LAUGHING AT THE IDEA OF HANNIBAL HAVING FRIENDS TAKE THE L ?????

hannibal rlly dropping all the hints for no reason 😭 also not him licking his lips I want to ask mads mikkelsen what was going through his little mind when he did this

there’s no way the writers were unaware how gay they made this right ?? like there’s no way

I can allow this murder. mans was rude as hell and homophobic. it’s basically justice 🤷‍♀️

*whispers* the beer is people alana

hannibal flirting with alana to find out more about will okayyyy

love hannibal going on a murder spree and making a feast he’s going wild going stupid crazy

why do I find him so endearing </3

WILL DOESN’T SHOW UP AND THE MUSIC IS SUDDENLY SO DRAMATIC PLEASEEE

hannibal was so excited to open the door and see will whyyy *head in hands*

I’m crying the way the desk is lit like a dramatic spotlight as hannibal sits alone, checking the appointments

meanwhile will is vividly hallucinating 😭

“it’s better that it’s just the two of us” immediately being followed by hannibal saying will’s name SHUT UPPPP

CAN’T BELIEVE HANNIBAL WENT TO FIND WILL THAT IS SUCH A LONG DRIVE

hannibal would’ve killed anyone else for this let’s be real but with will he’s like 🥺 don’t be sorry baby it’s okay

hannibal invented cancel culture

maybe im in love with beverly katz maybe it’s maybelline

“where’s will graham?” idk flirting with his psychiatrist again probably

“this is very educational” literally shut up 😭

the look THE LOOK

ICONIC

tfw you see your hot psychiatrist put his hands in another man 😳🥵

“are you sure you can’t stay?” I’m crying brb

WILL BROUGHT WINE :((((

“I don’t think I would be good company” “I disagree” AAAAAAAAA

hannibal just ask him out ffs

“I have a date with the chesapeake ripper” hannibal is screaming internally and so am I

the little smile will gives him :(( naur :((

“nothing here is vegetarian” I hate you so much please seek help 💖🚩

[cfnobility]

(  𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 ;  eris  )     ⸻     announcing  the  arrival  of  davos  baratheon  ,  lord  of  storms  end  .  known  for  being  courageous  ,  the  thirty  five  year  old  can  also  be  very  aggressive  ,  but  that's  just  the  rumors  of  the  stormlands,  they  whisper  that  he  reminds  them  of  the  heavy  sound  of  steel  against  steel  in  an  endless  battle.  (  sean  teale  +  male  +  he  /  him  )

name: davos baratheon

age: thirty-five

height: 6′0

eyecolor: brown

hair color: brown

birth place: storms end, the storlands

starsign: leo

sexuality: bisexual

titles: ruling lord of storms end, head of house baratheon

FAMILY

father: gendry baratheon (deceased)

mother: teaghan wylde (deceased)

step mother: arya stark (deceased)

siblings: three younger siblings

FUN FACTS

personality type: estp - the entrepreneur

theme song: could have been me - the struts

BIOGRAPHY

house baratheon was born again when davos was born, a strong voice crying through the raging storm outside the castles massive walls. house baratheon is born again with their eldest son. from a young age he was the embodiment of his house, boisterous and full of fury.

sword play was more exciting to him than politics but he had his father and his name sake davos seaworth there to lead him and put things into perspective. he was the face of their family born again. one who would understand the smallfolk and real people, who would be strong and smart.

brave and bold was always who davos was, he was a charmer from a young age. he'd heard it from the people of the stormlands that he was like a young robert baratheon, the one the world cared to remember.

davos spent time in essos fighting with sell swords, he did plenty of learning politics for himself, he wanted to taste battle and he found his way to have that. he stayed until the news of his father's illness reached him.

on his deathbed his father made davos promise that he'd make sure their family lived and lived united. his father was born a bastard and only became a baratheon because his father and uncles helped tear the realm apart. he could never let that happen.

being called to kings landing has been a difficult thing for davos, his family owes everything to the targaryen's but his father's loyalty to house stark and how they helped him first never died. especially with arya stark as his step mother

MORE INFO

davos has always been close to his siblings, very much a typical older brother who loves them but is also a menace

he's known for starting random fights sometimes just so he can work out some anger or because he's just bored

he can be a pain in the ass who struggles at times to take things seriously, he would still rather be in essos or on some battlefield.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

enemies to lovers or annoyances to lovers: literally davos has no desire to marry or anything he's a pain in the ass and has flings he's cocky and can be annoying. it would be fun to have him meet someone who he tries to charm and fails so he just decides that he's in love or someone who's always been in his life and just annoys him but??? you know the vibe

friends: GIVE HIM FRIENDS. he's a bro, be his bro

flings/hook ups/exes: it would be fun to have

[lifewiththelulus]

When Braise and Kindlin go to fire land for the holidays Braise's mom answers the door and is so darn happy to see him hugging and kissing his face and asking if he had a safe trip But she looks over his shoulder and goes "YOU BROUGHT HOME A GIRL!?" And immediately both Kindlin and Braise are talking over each other explaining that it's not like that at ALL and she lifts her hand at the end and just goes "sorry taken."

After they all go inside he explains how they just happened to meet, and discovered they were brother and sister She listens close and takes a closer look at Kindlin, realizing it must be true. She absolutely hugs Kindlin tight as she would her own kids and just says "I'm so sorry but you're family now, you're stuck with us unfortunately." Kindlin already loves this family so much

Enya, It's just Irish for fire, but the name sounds pretty :'3

Underdeveloped babies that survive are also called rainbow babies. What if Enya calls him something like that? My flicker of color in my life. …Might be more of a mouthful then flicker of hope though

I also think because fire people flicker out when they sneeze and he gets sick alot it ended up being an accurate name lol

He loves hims brother

He practically begged to hold him when Enya first brought him home lol

Birch hears about her trip and starts to gets worried about her moving to fire land to live with this family?

She does feel a little heart ache at first Thinking Kindlin might be happier with her "real" family, but she reminds herself that no matter what Kindlin decides to do she's happy as long as kin is happy. Even if that meant leaving her.

Of course when Kindlin gets back she practically jumps on Birch for a huge hug and goes on about how much she missed her and how she missed home She's a little worried when Birch hugs her again and starts crying but figured Birch just missed her too and was being emotional that day so just stayed in her arms for a while and Birch cradled her close as she always did

Kindlin is super happy to meet them and see he's had a good life there, but she can't help feeling a twinge of jealousy he got that kind of life from the start

This is all the more reason for Kindlin to rush into Birch's arms when she gets back home tbh She sees how Enya treats them and it reminds her so much of Birch and how she would hold her like that, like she was the most precious thing in the world. Jealousy fades to homesickness and she's missing her flower mom and the smell of baked goods in no time

Of course Enya, being a mom herself, picks up on the vibe and let's go of the boys to hug her too She whispers a thank you in Kindlin's ear for being in Braise's life and Kindlin just hugs back and tears up. She never felt this wanted or loved as a kid, not until she stumbled upon that cake shaped building. She wished she could go back in time just so she could tell herself how everything would be ok and she would matter, and she would love and be loved.

I can see them having a good time celebrating after that, making a good meal and Kindlin even baking something and sharing the recipe when Enya falls love with the treats lol

At some point they're all sat at the table, them sharing stories about growing up there, and the holidays they celebrated before at that same table. Of course Kindlin feels a little out of place, especially when they ask her about how her family celebrates and she responds by telling them she doesn't really celebrate fire holidays because she's the only fire person in her family and they'd already given her everything, she couldn't ask them to celebrate things that didn't mean anything to them. She says it's actually the first time she's celebrated this with anyone in years, and they kind of look at her with suprise. Braise brings up the point that he met Birch and that lady would literally do anything for her, and she should bring it up because this kind of stuff is part of who they are. She just nods and remains quiet the rest of the dinner But braise sees how she reacted and makes sure to let her know she's being included whether she liked it or not, because she's part of the family.

He had a few suspicions about her not telling the whole truth about her life, but won't push her about it. He knows if she wants to tell him she will so for now just makes sure to remind her they're family and always were even if they didn't know about each other until now .

Meanwhile, Cirrus is struggling to feel comfortable in fire land, hard for her to do so when all the beds and iron grills, the food is extra, extra spicy to the point she can't consume it, and the air there has very little moisture. Every time she's about to ask if they could go back home. she sees Kindlin's with her brother and her smiling face, "…yeah it's worth it."

Birch is very much enjoying her time with her grandbabies back home. Kindlin wanted to visit fire land to get a feel for it before bringing the kids

Oof Kindlin and Cirrus getting ready for bed the first night they're staying And Kindlin out of nowhere hugs her tight and starts to cry She's so mixed up about how to feel about everything She doesn't say anything or look at Cirrus, just holds her close, softly hiccuping every so often. She usually doesn't do stuff like that, but she just couldn't hold it back

Cirrus was just about to ask how long she planned on staying there until she got hugged. She has no idea why she’s so sad now when she looked so happy just a few minutes ago. So she holds and asks what’s wrong

Don't be sorry for THIS

Kindlin pulls away and wipes her eyes quickly, then smiled at Cirrus as they continued to fall anyways "Nothing my love. Absolutely nothing." She smiles through the tears and pulls her in to kiss her nose.

Cirrus doesn't want to pry too much, so she just holds her while she's asleep. (and doesn't get any sleep because she's basically a cloud on a BBQ bed)

When Kindlin notices the toll being there takes on her she wraps up the visit early She really likes this new part of her life but nothing is more important to her than the love of her life. She would never forgive herself for letting Cirrus get sick

Enya is sad to see them go, but she gives them both the biggest hug and tells them that they're welcome anytime.

Kindlin picks Cirrus up to carry her to the ship, insisting that she conserve her energy and moisture as much as possible until they're back on the open sea and it's more humid again

Braise thinks they're so cute together and actually really likes Cirrus when they meet. He's always been very family focused so seeing how she made Kindlin so happy made him happy.

Cirrus is happy to be back home and with her kids, she later suggests that her brother and the family comes to they're place for the next visit.

That's funny I was literally just thinking they'd probably pop in for a surprise visit when they come to see Braise during his break

Imma go ahead and say he's in culinary school cus his name XD A passion for food runs in the family I guess lol

Oof So I'm thinking at some point braise and Birch are alone waiting for Kindlin to get back and they get to talking And he says something about how Birch must've had the time of her life raising a rambunctious little fire kid.

Birch doesn't realize he doesn't know what actually happened and let's it be known she didn't meet Kindlin until she was already 17. He's utterly confused about this and asks her what she meant. Kindlin had told him a different story.

Birch feels bad telling him about it, but at the same time she felt it might help him understand things better. No backing out after that. She still didn't know all the details herself, since anytime she tried kin would close up. But she did tell him about how she was alone for a long time before she started coming to the bakery and volunteering.

Braise is left with the worst feeling in his chest after that. '*she… she had it so rough, and here I am flaunting my happy life in her face- it explains so much, why she never talks about them… *'

When Kindlin came back smiling with grocery bags in hand he got up and rushed over to hug her tight, not letting her even set things down. She was utterly confused and looked at Birch for an answer, but Birch just looked away, feeling bad now for sharing something so personal.

[nothoney]

Because I’d Really Like It To Be You - 7/20/22

“Just giving you a heads up, ya know, just in case you get a call from your mother or something. Just so you’re not blindsided.”

Silence, but not for too long.

“Damn.”

Ah, the boy kid wonder. Always shows up right when you don’t need him.

“Dad’s finally doing it huh?”

Yeah, and I have to do this, too, by myself.

“Oh, waaah, cry about it.”

A scrunched up face and an attitude that could rival all of 2011 in that house with you, “I literally am.”

“Oh, get over it. It’s been-“

“You know, this is my imagination. Shouldn’t you be nicer to me? Like, even once.”

He shrugs. Plays dumb. Something he was always very good at when he was still breathing.

“You can handle this,” he continues, “I don’t know why you’re still so upset about doing it alone.”

“Because it doesn’t feel great does it?” Whining and whining and whining, something I am very good at while breathing.

“Yeah but would it even feel nice if I was there?” He challenges.

Things I don’t like to admit, No.

He gesticulates like he’s the fucking first person to figure out how to solve 2+2, “No! Exactly.”

“Stop reading my thoughts!”

“I AM your thoughts, bonehead.”

“Yeah well, you were nicer outside of my head.”

Another pause, but now the person inside my thoughts is thinking- is that possible? (Maybe that’s nice. I gave him some dimension in this one.)

“Why do you write me so mean?” For someone who’s not even real he sounds mighty small right now.

“Because you were.” I answer honestly.

“Not all the time.” A kicked puppy. (Why do I do that to myself? Feel bad for versions of you that aren’t even real.)

I smile for the first time in this daydream.

“No, not always. But you’re not here are you? So it’s my point of view.”

“Well your point of view sucks. How could you miss someone that’s this mean all the time?”

Tears now for a different reason.

“I don’t know.”

A very long stretch of silence now, filled with the usual self pity and absolute aggravation and blight towards the world.

Annalise, I can’t remember the way you said my name so I just think it instead. “Not everything has to be about me, you know? Like… this doesn’t even have anything to do with me, so why am I here right now?”

A childish shrug and a childish voice that I remember perfecting on you. “Because it’s about mom and dad.”

A sigh that sounds a little too much like the wind. “Are you actually sad that they’re getting divorced?”

An immediate no.

“So then, what? It is because they were together when I was alive? Because that’s fucking stupid. I mean, I died, like, years after.”

“Only two.” Like a defense I could use if I only figured out how.

“Okay, but two whole years. Is it about her?”

“No? Yes? Honestly, not really. Everyone’s been asking me that. But, no.”

“So why? Why do you do this to yourself? Make up these scenarios where I’m here, where I’m not even really helping. I’m just fighting. Is that all you remember?”

I ignore the last part, and raise my temper to show it. “Because I don’t want to do it alone!”

“But you are, poops.” Softer than I think is possible. I must be remembering in whispers.

(And also why did he- well me- have to bring that nickname up? I wish that had died too.)

“But I don’t want to.” Much more subdued. Defeated? Surrendered? What’s the right synonym for what I’m feeling here?

I continue with, “I don’t want Mom to call and tell me about the papers. I don’t know what to say. And there’s no one else she’d call about it. And I don’t want to lie about his engagement. But I don’t want to tell her either. There’s too much to do, not enough to say. And there’s no one else Dad had to preface. There’s no one else Mom is going to call. The others have each other, and even a little bit of me too. But I don’t have anyone.”

“Well what about-“

“I’m not calling any of them. I’d be a burden.”

He tsk’s, as if somewhere in there he could find falsity.

He gives me that look- that fucking look that I hate and really- this is my mind so why does he always give me that look-

“This is why you need a boyfriend.”

And before I can scream him away, he throws his hands up in defense and says “Or a girlfriend!”

I try to scream louder after that one.

He ignores it like he would if he was still alive, “If what you need is to be taken care of then why don’t you ever let anyone?”

“Because they’re not going to do it right.”

He gives me a different look this time. One that i’ve perfectly replicated from real life.

“Because you want it to be me?”

Somewhere in all of this. In all these dreams and made up conversations, my reality has shifted. Warped, in a sense, where if I play along too well or look too far to the right- where you’re there in a guinea tea, dirty ass jeans, and the same red and black Jordan’s you died in- I find myself too tempted. To fall in, to fade out. To go with you.

“Yeah,” I say to my once again empty bedroom- because I never let you stay too long, do I? “Because I’d really like it to be you.”     허니  

[wnderkoo]

“Let me get this straight.. you want me to break up with you for 24 hours so you can go barricade yourself in our bedroom and cry to Taylor Swift?”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: fluff, crack, not real angst but it's still there ig word count: 2.1k warnings: they’re really in love, jungkook best boyfriend, reader really goes thru it listening to this album, mentions of jake gllynhaal, spiderman far from home spoilers if u haven’t already seen it, did i mention that they’re really in love? alcohol consumption (like 2 beers) note: yes the title is also a TS song, because ‘i take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover’ is literally jeon jungkook???

Your eyes flutter awake at the first inklings of sunlight that peek in through the bedroom window, the warm rays on your skin stirring you towards consciousness. With half a mind, you reach blindly for your phone to check the time, wincing at the brightness of the screen as you bring it to your face, squinting enough to see that it’s only 7:03am. 

What finally shakes you awake though, is the notification sitting at the top of the pile on your screen. Listen to Red (Taylor’s Version), out now! You blink a few times, wondering if you’re dreaming, but when you check the date beneath the time, November 12th, you realise that today is in fact, the re-release of one of Taylor Swift’s greatest albums of all time. You grin like a mad-woman, whisper screaming oh my god! as you scroll through the track-list.

You finally take notice of the arm draped over your waist and the warmth at your back, twisting and coming face to face with your sleeping lover. You smile, your body’s automatic response to seeing him. You reach up to place a kiss on Jungkook's pouty lips, sincerely apologising in advance for the day ahead.

His eyebrows furrow and the arm around your waist tightens, bringing you closer to him until your face is buried in the crook of his neck. You can't help but smile against his skin, your eyes falling closed as you let him fill your senses.

"Go back to sleep," He rasps, thumb rubbing back and forth on your hip as if to soothe you. You're already halfway there before Jungkook presses a gentle kiss to your hair, and it's all you need to tip over the precipice.

The next time you're awake, it's almost 10. By the time you shower and get ready for the day, Jungkook is up and making breakfast in the kitchen, the smell of pancakes greeting you as you step out of the bedroom.

"Good morning," Jungkook smiles, opening his arms to bring you into a hug. Your arms snake around his waist, face pressed against the cotton of his light grey tee as you murmur a good-morning in reply.

It's when the both of you are sat at the dining table, eating the pancakes Jungkook had cooked, when you decide to bring up your absurd proposition.

"Kook?" His head tips up at the sound of his name, face mid-way through a mouthful of pancakes. He swallows before replying, "Yeah?"

"Red came out today," You begin, not really sure how you were supposed to get this out. "I hate to break it to you babe, but red's been out for a while now.." You playfully roll your eyes with a smile, at least he's cute. "The Taylor Swift album, not the colour." you deadpan, shaking your head. Jungkook replies with an outstretched ohhh.

"And I need you to break up with me-" Jungkook's eyes widen, almost choking on his pancakes when he hears the sentence that comes out of your mouth. "Wait! Let me finish," You exclaim, wanting to laugh at his horrified expression. But something in your heart warms, knowing that would be his reaction if you ever said something like that- which you never would. You were adamantly in love with this man.

"Just for like a day, so I can listen to this album and pretend I'm heartbroken. It doesn't hit the same when you're in a loving relationship. Also! we're still dating, so don't you dare go out and start fucking random girls, cause then I really will be heartbroken." You look over at Jungkook, who seems to be processing your words with every slow chew.

"So let me get this straight.. you want me to break up with you for 24 hours so you can go barricade yourself in our bedroom and cry to Taylor Swift?"

"Yes." You say with a straight face, and Jungkook shakes his head incredulously.

"You're lucky I love you, you know," He says, chuckling at the way your eyes light up. "Are you serious? I didn't think you'd actually say yes," You can't help the smile that erupts on your face, jumping out of your chair and coming around the table to straddle Jungkook's lap. You hug him tight, and his arms automatically slide around your waist.

"As long as you're still mine at the end of the day, I don't care what you do." He says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you pull back to look down at him. "I love you," You sigh, kissing him softly. "I love you," He smiles when you both pull away.

"I can't believe I'm doing this shit." Jungkook sighs from where he stands in your shared bedroom.

"Shut up, you literally agreed to it." You roll your eyes, walking towards him to swat his arm. "I didn't think we'd be roleplaying!" He exclaims and you roll your eyes again.

"Just pretend to break up with me." You say, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. "Break my heart, go on Jeon." Jungkook blinks down at you for a moment. "Um, this isn't working out?" He says slowly. You roll your eyes, but nod at him to keep going.

"It was fun.. but I think we should see other people. I still love you a lot, and the memories we made will always be in my heart forever. I hope one day you find someone who treats you the way you deserve.." His hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear, for dramatic purposes. "Because you deserve the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you that."

"Goodbye, _____."

You stand rooted on the floor, and watch as he walks away, not turning back once before he closes the bedroom door behind him.

You immediately start crying, making a mental note to later ask Jungkook where the fuck he pulled that out of. Too many Kdramas, you think. Still crying, you shut the curtains, submerging the room in darkness, before curling up in bed and pressing play on your heartbreak anthem.

In the living room, Jungkook stands at the kitchen island, running a hand through his hair. He's about to go back into the bedroom to see if you're okay when he hears the music blaring through the walls. Shaking his head, he decides to be useful and get things done around the apartment, so at least after your fake break-up, you can come out into a clean and tidy home.

He’s mid-way through the dishes when the doorbell rings. Jungkook washes his hands, drying them with a tea-towel before heading towards the door. 

Jungkook takes one look at the male at his front door and shakes his head, moving to the side to let him in. “Did you just get dumped for a day too?” He asks, closing the door behind him. “She kicked me out of my own house!” Taehyung exclaims, toeing off his shoes before collapsing onto the couch. Jungkook laughs as he makes his way to the fridge, bringing out two beers and tipping off the caps. He hands one to Taehyung before leaning back against the couch. 

“To our crazy- beautiful, but crazy women,” Taehyung says in a toast, bringing his beer up. “Who we love to death nevertheless.” Jungkook adds before clinking his beer with Tae’s and chugging it down in 3 gulps. 

The rest of the after-noon is spent playing video-games and talking about how in love they had to be to put up with their girlfriend’s antics. They’re 100% tipsy, but Jungkook’s words are genuine when he says you’re the person he wants a future with. When the two of them somehow land on the topic of marriage, Jungkook says it in a heartbeat, that you’re the only one he’d ever want to marry. There truly was no one else.

Jungkook orders a pizza and after about 4 action movies, Taehyung finally decides to go home. The two grown men wish each other luck before saying goodbye.

Jungkook closes the front door behind him with a sigh. The music has been playing all day, and Jungkook has heard you scream (cry) the words ‘and you call me up again just to break me like a promise!’ at least 8 times. He starts to get genuinely worried, but knows you’d absolutely have his balls if he interrupted you, so he stays out of the bedroom. He eats dinner alone, missing your presence at the table more than he thought he would. 

Jungkook gets ready for bed in the bathroom down the hall, barely used, since there was an ensuite in your bedroom. The spare bedroom was turned into a recreation room, with your painting supplies on the desk by the window, and bookshelves lining the walls. Other abandoned hobbies lay around the room, and Jungkook smiles at them. You were always so outgoing, he loved that about you- he loved everything about you though. Jungkook fishes out a spare blanket from the storage cupboard and heads to his bed for the night. The couch is relatively comfortable, but nothing could ever compare to his own bed, with you in his arms. 

After an hour of mindlessly scrolling on his phone, Jungkook falls asleep to the soft hum of your music seeping through the walls.

You stir in your sleep, finding the usual warmth that cocoons you, missing. Your eyes open, and you turn on your side to find Jungkook’s side of the bed empty. You sit up, rubbing at your eyes, only to realise you had fallen asleep with your mascara still on. You had put it on earlier to maximise the effect of a breakup, letting it streak down your cheeks as you listened to All Too Well and watched the short film. A tub of ice-cream lay finished on your bedside table, and the music still played from the speaker beside it.

Your hazy state has you worrying if Jungkook had up and left, a tear escapes, running down your cheek, and before you know it you can’t stop them as they silently fall. You knew you were a handful, but Jungkook had never chastised you- telling you a million times he could handle you. But what if this had pushed him to the edge?

With tear stained cheeks and a quivering bottom lip, you slide out of bed, deciding to look for your lost lover. You don’t miss the plate of lasagna on the hallway table, next to your bedroom door. He had thought of you during dinner. The search doesn’t take long, when you step into the living room, sprawled out on the couch with a tiny blanket draped over him, your Jungkook slept peacefully. You breathe a sigh of relief that comes out as a whimper as you trembled towards the couch.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow when he feels a body slide onto him, clutching his sides tightly and crying into his neck. When your familiar scent registers, he’s wide awake and wrapping an arm around you, rubbing up and down your back soothingly. 

He sits up carefully, adjusting you on his lap to make sure you’re comfortable before he’s brushing the strands of hair, wet from your crying, away from your face. “I thought you left.” You sob miserably and Jungkook’s heart cracks. “I would never.” He murmurs, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. “Stop crying now,” He whispers softly, thumb caressing your skin in the most loving way.

“I woke up alone,” You mumbled, the tears finally stopping. You aware you looked like a mess, eyes swollen from your crying earlier, plus the smudged mascara. But Jungkook didn’t seem to care at all, he never cared how you looked. 

“I thought you were still you know, going through our break-up” Jungkook grins, making you smile. “I’m over it,” You sigh, cupping his face in your cheeks. “Missed you too much,” Leaning down, you kiss him gently, having missed those lips since this morning. “I missed you too.” 

Jungkook moves you to lean against the couch, heating up some dinner for you before grabbing your makeup remover from the bathroom. Your heart clenches as he wipes the mascara from your eyes and cheeks  and brushes your hair. 

“I love you.” 

You smile behind a mouthful of delicious lasagna. “I love you, Jungkook.” He smiles. “Ew, chew don’t talk,” He grins when you roll your eyes. He thinks you’re too cute with stuffed cheeks, leaning forward to peck them. 

“You know, I also have a deep hatred for Jake Gyllenhaal..”

You stare dumb-founded at your boyfriend after the random statement, acceptable, but random. Jungkook had decided to search up the album himself, falling down the rabbit hole of the hating Jake Gyllenhaal agenda. 

“He revealed Spider-Man’s identity!” 

A grin breaks out on your face. This man. 

You truly love him so.

tysm for reading! i don't particularly know how i feel about this.. but i want to get more imagines and what not out onto my tumblr- also if you're looking for my jjk series Sheltered Hearts, i deleted that :/ i have no idea why, i just didn't like it?? it's still a saved draft on wattpad and I might edit it and post it in the future but we'll see

[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis And Stu Macher x Reader- Our Favorite Girl (Slight gore warning)

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...(Trigger warning, stabby stab)

“Hey newbie!” 

You looked up from your textbook to find Stu Macher prancing up to you. With a polite smile, you greeted him.

“Hi Stuart.” you said. “How are you?”

“Hey! I said you didn’t have to be so ‘oooh hi Stuart I’m so prim and proper.’ “ he laughed out loud. “We’re friends aren’t we?” 

“I guess so.” you laughed nervously. “ Um...what’s up?”

“I’m havin’ a party and you’re coming!”

“Parties?” You frowned. “I-uh...” you wanted to reject the idea. You hated parties and your parents would probably blow a fuse if they knew what was going on around town. ‘Stuart, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, kitten?” he winked. “Afraid to be seen with little ol’ me?” there was a darkness behind his words that you couldn’t ignore. “Don’t like being out after dark?”

“I’m not the partying type is all.” you shrugged. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the most popular person around here.” you stared down at your shoes. “I just don’t wanna ruin your party. I’m the last person you wanna be seen with.”

“It’d make me real happy, kitten.” he stepped forward and slipped his fingertips under your chin and made you look up. “Please? Just for a few minutes.”

Call it weakness, but you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay.” you smiled lightly. “I’ll go”

“Great! Don’t worry, it’ll be super memorable.” he winked as he skipped off. 

Later on, you were walking to your locker only to bump into Adam. Typical bully. “Hey Y/N. Heard you were going to Macher’s party tonight...you gonna wear a dress for me?”

“No.” you answered curtly. “It’s amazing how you don’t seem to have anything better to do other than shove your nose into my business.” you hugged your books to your chest. “Can I go now?.”

“Hey...is there a problem?” you turned around to find Billy Loomis stalking up to you. You had seem him a handful of times but never actually talked to him before. “You...where do I know you from?”

“I sit behind you in English. We had a project together once.” you replied sheepishly. “Stuart forces me to sit between him and his girlfriend at lunch when they’re fighting. You talk to me from time to time...”

“Stuart...” he raised an eyebrow. “You mean Stu?”

“mhm! You probably don’t remember me because I never reply...” you nodded. 

“You goin’ to his party or somethin’?”

“He asked me to go.” you trailed off. “You’re going too, right?”

“ Why? Excited to meet me there?”“ he smirked, totally ignoring Adam at this point. 

“I mean...” you stared down at your books. “I was hoping someone I’d know would be there.”

Billy raised an eyebrow at you. You gave off a shy aura and for some reason he was into that. He and Stu had been planning a massacre, and they were gonna blame that damned Sydney Prescott. It was the perfect crime. 

“Hm...I’ll see you there.” he winked at you, then sent a death-bringing glare at Adam. “Problem, handsome?” he sneered as he passed the athlete.

... at the party

“Not even three hours in and I have to hide...” you cursed yourself out. “Damn asshole...!” 

Adam was informed that you had arrived and was looking for you, shit!

You ran into the kitchen, losing your breath. “Billy?” 

The suspect in question whipped around. Billy was holding what you assumed was the house phone and instantly hung it up. “Hey...”

“Am I glad to see you.” you sighed.

“Somethin wrong?” 

Billy was in the middle of executing his plan, but for some reason he couldn’t help but want to talk to you. 

“Adam is looking for me.” you sighed. “Could I...stay here with you? Please?”

Billy smiled, darting out his tongue to run across his bottom lip. You were absolutely adorable. “I have a better idea.” he smirked, walking up to you. “Why don’t we send him a little message?”

“You have a girlfriend.” you put a hand on Billy’s chest. “I c-can’t.”

“Not anymore...she dumped me for Randy.” he tusked. ”Figures right?”

“Well...that’s her fault...you’re pretty cool.” you bit your lip.

“So...” Billy tilted your head up towards you. “Let me-”...he gently kissed your lips. While it felt wrong, you melted into him. He held the side of your face in his hand. Sidney wasn’t your friend, not by a longshot, but you still respected her. The fact that Billy was so willing to kiss you, like this.

“For once...stop worrying about other people.” he mumbled against your lips. “Just live in the moment...shit I know what I want...you know what you want...so act on it damnit.”

“Are we still talking about getting Adam off me back or-”

“Shush...don’t think.”

“Kinda hard to when your girlfriend is in the other room”

“Shut up.” he shushed you, tightening his arms around you. You kissed him back with just as much urgency. How would the others react, seeing this...seeing you. Billy backed you up against the counter. Before it could get any farther, you both heard screaming, girlish screaming. 

“What the hell was that?” you asked, feeling your heart race.

“Stay here.” Billy ran in the direction of the noise, leaving you to stand there in terror.

You could hear screams and cries for help, followed by what sounded like gleeful laughter. You were left frozen in place as a man with a mask on his face kicked open the kitchen door. 

You immediately braced yourself with a kitchen knife.

“Stay back!” you warned. “I will cut you!”

“Easy kitten, I’m not gonna kill ya.”

Call it ignorance. Call it instinct, but there was something familiar about the way this stranger spoke to you.

“What did you just say?” you dared ask this man. “Did you just call me kitten?”

“You’re naive, childish...and adorable...like a little kitty cat.” the way he laughed under the mask led you to believe he was laughing with his tongue stuck out.

There was only one person that you knew who spoke like that. You slowly lowered the knife and walked up to him cautiously. The figure didn’t move in the slightest. You were standing toe to toe with him. 

You cautiously raised the mask only revealing the bottom half of the strangers face...only they weren’t a stranger.

“Stu.” you concluded.

“....You said my name.” he flirted.

“Care to explain?”

“In a bit...got something to take care of.” he straightened his mask again before disappearing again.

It was only less than a minute before Stu came quite literally crawling back into the kitchen.

Stu doubled over, holding his stomach as you rushed over to his side. “Stu?” you put a hand on his forehead. “Stu, please don’t be dead!” you winced. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” That damn Sidney...she must have had something to do with this.

“Y/N...it hurts.” Stu moaned in pain. “Hold me?” 

You wasted no time in gathering him to the best of your abilities. He rested his head in your knee. You hummed thoughtfully, shushing him while you used his sweater to apply pressure to his stab wound.

“Y/N, are you sure you aren’t an angel?” He shamelessly flirted, smiling through his pain.

“No, I’m not.” you giggled. ”Save your energy.”

“I’d have more if you just gave me those lips of yours...” he winked. Just to shut him up, you kissed his forehead. 

“Not what I meant, but works for me.”

 As you chided the poor boy, Sydney ran into the kitchen, screaming at the top of her lungs while Billy also wounded stumbled behind. 

“Billy??” you gasped in horror. Seeing you must have caused him to loose his footing, because he slowed his movements. You laid Stu on his back and urged him keep his sweater over his wound. 

You scrambled to your feet, eyeing Sidney with a glare no one had ever seen you wear.

“Y/N! You’ve got to believe me! They’ve been the ones doing this.”

“I find that really hard to believe that when you were just standing over Stu with a bloody knife.” you seethed. “Your own boyfriend? Really?” you dared step closer.

“Y/N! They’re manipulating you!” she began crying. “You have to see it!” She was obviously hysterical.

“Then give me the knife.” you faked calm, cautiously stepping towards her. “Give me the knife...and we can-” you stopped yourself. You looked over at Billy, praying he wouldn’t be mad. “We’ll call the cops.” you you held your hand out.

“WHAT?” Billy seethed. You avoided his gaze. Hopefully he wouldn’t sense your fear. 

“Trust me...” you said, just barely above a whisper. You were mostly talking to Billy, but had to make it look like it was directed at her. “We can get out of this...”

Sidney (very stupidly) outstretched her hand, the one that was holding the knife. Once it was within your reach, you grabbed her wrist, and grabbed the blade with your free hand, throwing it to the side. You tackled to to the floor and held her down.

“Crazy bitch.” you mumbled. She began thrashing, and screaming bloody murder. You were eventually able to get the best of her. “Whoever is the least dead...COPS...NOW!” You struggled as Sidney screamed. “This bitch is out of her mind!.”

“I have a better idea.” A seemingly fine, and now very much not dead Stu rose to his feet, a sick smile plastered on his face. The knife had slid over to him and you hadn’t even realized. You were too focused on keeping Sidney on the floor.

Suddenly you were yanked back into Billy’s arms as a sharp object came down from above, plunging through Sidney’s chest. 

“Oh my god!” you buried your head into Billy’s shirt, trying to block out the terrible sounds you heard the terrible sounds of skin ripping. 

“Shhh it’s over babe.” He shushed you. “It’s okay.” he stroked your hair with his bloody hand. Stu laughed manically as he wiped the sweat off his face. 

“Some party huh.” Stu cackled. He wasted no time in sandwiching you between himself and Billy.

“You had us thinking you’d betray us, Kitten.” Stu dug his head into your shoulder.

“Y/N would never do that to us...she’s our good girl.”

“You guys are-”

“Absolutely.”

“And this party was-”

“Smart girl.”

“And now that you know our little secret, we’re never letting you go, kitten!” Stu laughed. 

“And if you tell anyone, we’ll have no choice but to take you down with us...but you won’t do that to us, will you?” Billy asked, nuzzling his head into your neck.

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement. 

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight. 

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said. 

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.” 

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened. 

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone. 

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers. 

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race. 

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs. 

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.” 

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”