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mintkookiess · 10 months

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It's you?!

A/N: Craving more 42!Miles screen time. Better yet, I want him to have an entire goddamn film.

Another post from the private vault! hope y'all like this one as much as I did! (｡･･｡)

Love,

Mint

Summary: 42!Miles and his weird ass obsession on finding out Spiderwoman!reader's real identity (and vice versa, but less obsessive LMAO she just curious)

Tags: 42!Miles x Spiderwoman!reader, some cussing, choking (not that kind) enemies -> friends

Word count: 2.3k

The Prowler had a sick grin behind his mask as he stared at the woman standing a few feet away from him. It was almost laughable to him how she could stand for all the heroic shit, even her suit looked downright ridiculous. “You’re a brave one to try to stop me, I’ll give you that.” He laughed with his voice slightly distorted from the voice changer. “But I hate to break it to you ma, I’m going to remind you where you belong, to make you remember your fucking place.”

Though deep down he knew that he always looked forward to their fights and banters. Sure, he’s handled a bunch of big enemies and may have been beaten to a pulp once or twice, but nothing makes him feel more alive than fighting the one and only Spiderwoman. Little does he know that he’s slowly garnering some sort of obsession over finding out who she was.

He was itching to know what kind of person this woman was who had the actual capabilities of making him excited and thrilled over fighting, something he grew to hate.

"Yeah, I will. Since my place will always be above you." Y/n replied coolly behind her mask. As Spiderwoman, she is obligated to eradicate all evils in Brooklyn, but this Prowler dude always made it interesting for her. And today was just like their usual encounters.

Sometimes, she admits that she wants to know who he was beneath all that tacky suit. Like why does he look like fucking Dracula?

I hate that fucking mask. Miles thought as he scowls down at the hero. All he wanted was to rip the mask off of her head and finally see her face. He couldn't exactly understand his undying obsession with finding out. Like, why her of all heroes?

He growled in frustration with himself, clawed out his hand, and lunged at Y/n, ready to rip her apart. In response to this however, Y/n was quick enough to instantly shoot a web by a nearby building on their right, flinging herself towards it to dodge him. "Is that the best you got pretty boy?" She called out.

"Pretty boy?" Miles raised an eyebrow behind his mask. He snarled, jumping off the ground to thrust towards her once more, this time using full force to try to pin her against the wall. He does this successfully, picking Y/n up by her throat. "Who are you?" Miles hissed, his claws retracting before digging his metal-covered fingers into her neck more. "Tell me, damn it."

Y/n kept her body calm and tried to maintain proper breathing despite being choked by him. "Spiderwoman, who else would I be?" She choked, her mind trying to find the best way possible to escape from his deadly grasp.

"That's not what I meant," Miles glared, squeezing even tighter than before. His golden brown eyes slowly became wild in anger, almost as if something's taken over him.

"Answer me properly, pretty girl," He seethed, his mask glitching slightly. Though he called her "pretty girl", he did so in such a mocking tone.

Miles dropped her to the ground but doesn't waste a second before pinning her against the wall with his arm over her head. With his height, he just easily towers over her.

The sight egged him on, the feeling of having Spider-Woman beneath him like this was exhilarating.

"Who. Are. You."

"Someone who's... about to kick your goddamn ass." She murmured before her leg flew up to his arm, and with every force she could muster she kicked it down, making him lose balance.

She shoots another web to the building on the opposite side, keeping a fair distance from the Prowler. "Why do you want to know me so badly?" She called out to him.

"Because I want to know my enemy,” Miles yelled back, letting out a low growl as he rose to his feet and sped across to her once more. He lands back close to her, glaring at her with a slightly amused look. It's just a game to him after all. A game of cat and mouse and he was definitely not the mouse.

"I'll stop at nothing until I found out who you are," He gritted through his teeth. "You won't get away that easily ma."

Y/n only snorted at his words. "Oh yeah? I think I do a pretty great job at doing that pretty boy." She smirked behind her mask before instantly swinging away, leaving him.

But of course, Miles wasn't backing down, quickly chasing after her. "Who the fuck are you?!" He yelled loudly, but she doesn't answer. They both played chase across multiple buildings. Miles was determined not to lose her this time though, picking up his speed until he was practically at the same speed as her.

This must be his new world record, Uncle Aaron would be damn proud.

"I won't stop chasing you until I know." Y/n rolled her eyes at how persistent he was being. Miles wants to know who this hero was, and why she drove him insane with obsession, or how she got him looking forward to fighting her.

"Well for starters, why the hell are you so obsessed with me? Honestly, don't you have better things to do?!" She called out as she continuously swung between buildings by her webs. Least to say though, Y/n was impressed that the Prowler could catch up at all. But then again, when has he ever failed to impress her?

"It's not an obsession," Miles denied, following close behind her. Even Y/n knew that wasn't the truth.

Miles is a villain. He kills. He maims. He hurts whomever he wants. But with her? Something just felt different. She's special, nothing like the rest of them. She has something he can't quite explain. Some sort of magnet that keeps him wanting to see her often? To fight her more than he does with the usual people he dealt with?

"Why do you keep running away ma?" He asked nonchalantly, but Miles knew he was just trying to keep her under his grasp for a bit longer. "You can fight. Why run?"

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Then let's fight pretty boy." She swung back around towards him, landing her foot on his torso, kicking him hard across the concrete before landing flawlessly on the ground.

Miles grunts loudly and stumbles back, hitting a beaten-up car behind him. He looks up at her, glaring. "That's more like it ma," He leered, the sun creating shadows on his face, making him look even more intimidating.

He grunted as he stood up, getting close to her once again until he was merely inches away from her face. "You must tell me. You can't keep it from me." Miles grunted. His eyes were wild and insane as if he's lost control of... whatever he was feeling towards this Spiderwoman.

"If I told you who I was, that defeats the entire anonymous persona thing I've got going." Y/n chuckled, placing a hand on her hip. Though she admits, she was also quite eager to know who Prowler was. Oh hell no, just curious.

"Tell me already!" Miles almost yelled, balling his hands into fists. He's getting angrier by the minute. At who exactly? He wasn't sure. Maybe he was mad at her because she was being stubborn, or mad at his behavior and the way he was acting right now.

But Miles doesn't care. He only cares about the fact that he's not getting the information he wants.

He just wants to know who she was so badly so he could finally get over this achingly overwhelming curiosity.

"Tell me," Miles glowered once more, his voice dark and raspy. "I won't ask again."

"You're asking me to tell my arch nemesis who I am behind this mask. You do realize how insane you sound right?" Y/n snickered. But suddenly, she was stricken with an idea. She quickly looked around, making sure no one was around them in the abandoned part of Brooklyn.

For once, she wanted to indulge in her curiosities as Spiderwoman. She grinned at him, even though he couldn't see it. "If you show me who you are, I'll show you who I am. Seems only fair right?"

"Fine," Miles grunted, uncurling his fists. He was a bit surprised at how easy it was for him to agree, despite knowing full well he shouldn't show who he was much less to the person who's been hunting him down for months.

"Show me first. Then I'll let you know who I am." His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he meets her stare. "After all, it is only fair ma."

Y/n laughed, nodding in agreement. "Fine, if we're playing fair, then we should just do it together at the same time."

Prowler let out a harsh breath and nodded.

"On the count of three,” Y/n said, her finger gripping the edge of her mask.

"1..."

"2..."

"3...!"

As Y/n pulled out her mask, the Prowler does the same, his Prowler mask moving back to reveal himself as Miles Morales.

Y/n's hair fell down, her e/c eyes striking with excitement as she stared back into his. Her lips instantly curved into a smile as she sees an all-too-familiar face before her. "You're that student from school!"

Miles blinked. "What—" He stopped himself mid-sentence as it finally hits him. It's her. It's always been her.

His eyes flash with shock, pupils widening to the point where his eyes almost appeared black. The woman that he's been obsessing over, was Y/n. Y/n L/n.

Miles would see her often in class and everywhere else on campus. He has never spoken a word to her, but she slightly grabbed his attention because she was the complete opposite of him. That and because she was obnoxiously loud.

He simply knew her as that friendly, too-nice, pure girl. Definitely did not assume that she'd be Spider-Woman.

"You're that quiet dude from physics and math class!" Y/n gushed even further. "I wasn't expecting it to be you but, that makes so much sense with your mysterious aura and vibe, holy shit."

Y/n was internally screaming inside because she did notice Miles Morales from her school. She thought he was crazy attractive with the stoic and cold demeanor he had going on, especially those goddamn braids of his.

And now here she was, finding out that he was in fact, the Prowler whom she's been fighting for months on end.

"Y/n..." Miles breathed out. As he processed the woman before him, he started to think about how she was beautiful, far more than he could've ever imagined. He barely looks at her at school, but now he's finally got a good look.

Her smile sent unexpected fluttering to his heart and it was difficult for him to look away. He had to snap himself out of it. Y/n isn't just Y/n. She's Spider-Woman. Who knows of his identity.

Miles licked his lips forgetting all of that in a second. His eyes were still wild but now supported by a little glint. A spark perhaps. Somehow, seeing Y/n and realizing she's Spider-Woman made him feel weird. Good weird. But weird.

"Well, what do you think? Overwhelmed? Underwhelmed? Rate the experience from 1 to 10, be honest." Y/n smirked, her eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her Spider-Woman suit.

"You fucking weirdo,” Miles smirked.

"Would you look at that, the infamous Miles Morales actually knows how to smile,” Y/n replied, clearly amused.

She was definitely not screaming inside.

"What can I say ma?" He replied with a smirk, "You bring out the best in me." He found himself teasing her. How interesting.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Ha ha, I wasn't expecting the Prowler to be this cheesy either."

"I wasn't expecting Spider-Woman to be this beautiful either, so I guess we're both in quite a predicament,” Miles said with a slightly flirty tone. The situation was becoming less tense and more playful between them.

It was as if Miles had become a different person, being less like the ruthless villain Prowler, and more like himself as Miles Morales. It's a refreshing feeling to him.

"Well thank you, does that mean you've always noticed me from school?" Y/n smiled, placing her hands on her back, and swayed side to side like a child.

"I noticed you alright.” He chuckled. Miles was still in disbelief with himself since he never showed such emotion to anyone. Ever. But here he was laying himself out to this girl who he barely even knows.

"I thought about talking to you. Usually to tell you to shut up cause you're always so damn loud." He told her. "But then I got too much shit on my mind. You know what it's like as the Prowler."

Y/n simply nodded, "That's fair. I myself am pretty busy cause well... I am Spiderwoman, constantly thinking of how to save the city." She winked.

"You're busy as Spider-Woman," Miles repeated. "And I'm busy as the Prowler." He grinned at her. "We have that in common, don't we?"

"Except for the fact that we are destined to be enemies." Y/n grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. "But you know, maybe we can be friends."

Her? Being friends with him? What is she even saying... as if he'd actually agree—

Miles cocked an eyebrow. "Friends huh? Maybe we should try it sometime." He grinned, but he stopped himself, almost as if what he said wasn't meant to be said at all. He cleared his throat, "Well, we aren't enemies right now, are we?"

Y/n contemplated for a while, "Hmm... Maybe enemies as Spider-Woman and the Prowler, but we can be friends as Y/n and Miles." She winked, holding out her hand for him to shake.

Without a second thought, Miles grabbed her hand and shook it firmly. "Deal." He replied with a smirk. "Friends." And he's serious about it too. All they both thought of at the moment was,

Damn, this is going to be one interesting pair.

Fin.

More of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfic #42!Miles Morales x reader #Miles G Morales #Earth 42!Miles #enemies to friends #Miles Morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x y/n

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mokassins · 2 months

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Queens of fobo 👑

#qsmp #art #my art #qsmp fanart #q!leonarda #q!sunny #q!sunnysideup #town of fobo #Miracle of fobo?..#qsmp eggs #Enemies to friends

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creativepromptsforwriting · 1 year

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Enemies to friends (to lovers but that’s another prompt) where they spend every second of their time bickering each other, please? Appreciate it <3

Enemies to friends prompts

"I don't know why we haven't become friends earlier." "Oh, I know quite a few reasons for that."

"That used to really annoy you." "You still annoy me plenty."

"How much more fun it is to be friends, right?" "Yes, so much fun."

"The good old days of being enemies." "Truly the good old days."

"Being your enemy was fun, but I'm happy we're friends now."

"Aww, you like being my friend!" "One more word and we'll go back to enemies."

"People will be shocked to know we've become friends." "Not any more shocked than I am."

"We're friends now. So you need to stop making me want to kill you."

"Being enemies is sometimes easier than being your friend."

"With you as my friend I don't need any more enemies."

More: Enemies to Lovers Masterpost | Enemies to friends with benefits Prompts

- Jana

#anon ask #enemies to friends #enemies to friends to lovers #prompt list #writing prompts #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writing #creative writing #writeblr

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marchtothefuckingsea · 10 months

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you all like the trope of character being so delirious from their injuries that they don't realize someone on their team trying to help them, so they fight back, but I offer you: Character, delirious, weakly fighting someone trying to help them, but they finally recognize who it is and they fight even harder

#writing prompts #injury writing #whump #whump prompts #enemy to caretaker type beat #enemy to caretaker #enemies to allies #hurt/comfort #delirious character #injury whump #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #hero villain writing #hero/villain #hero x villain

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months

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A Moment Of Everything

Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You and Peter have never gotten along, but can two nights in Florence change things for good?

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, angst. Mentions of blood and wounds. I was watching The Proposal last night and got inspired. Enemies to Lovers. See this for whichever Spider-Man you wish. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You knew things had to change eventually.

Yourself and Peter couldn’t go your whole lives hating one another.

You just didn’t expect it to change quite so much.

It had all started one night when you were on a mission with each other.

Two days in Florence, Italy. You were both sent to monitor a suspect. And, like usual, Peter was off with you. He didn’t seem too happy about having to share a bed at the hotel. And, even though he didn’t particularly like talking to you, he would still do it. Only, that night, he didn’t.

When he didn’t have to talk to you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at you.

So, the night before you were expected to fly back home, you called him out on it.

He didn’t listen to you. He simply walked away from you. He followed the guy and you had to go with his plan. Whatever his plan was, you had to guess.

Only, the suspect got away.

“We’ll find him again.”

Peter just grunted.

“Peter.”

Nothing.

“Peter!”

Again, nothing.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Peter!” He finally slowed down and looked at you. “What the hell is your fucking problem?! I get you don’t like me, but we’re meant to be together in this!”

“We are together in this.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Bull-shit. You have done nothing but ignore me this entire trip. If you have a problem with me, you can just say it. Where are you going now? Or am I not allowed to know that either.”

“Back to the hotel. Not like you’d tell me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You tried running to catch up with him.

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead. Tell me.”

Soon enough you both made it back to the hotel and inside the room before the conversation continued.

“Tell me, Peter. I can take it.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You don’t know me-”

“You’re right! I don’t!” Peter turned around and looked at you, forcing you to stop in your tracks.

“I don’t know you! I don’t know anything about you! Because you don’t share anything.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to keep my life a little private.”

“A little?!” Peter raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “A little private is not telling your co-workers where you're going when you say you’re going on holiday. A little private is not showing them a thousand pictures of your new puppy. Your life is anything but a little private.”

Clearly, he had more to say so you waited. And you didn’t have to wait long.

Sighing, Peter rubbed his forehead for a moment before looking back at you.

“I have known you for almost ten years and you have told me less than three things about yourself. And yet, an hour before we leave to come here, Hank from the Biology lab does…what? Flirts with you for five minutes, tells you his coffee order and you’re practically marrying the guy!”

“Peter, that’s none- Is this what has been bothering you since we left? This?! Just because I decided to talk to a guy and tell him about my day…why does it bother you so much that I don’t talk about myself?”

“Because I am meant to be your teammate. You have known me for almost ten years and never once have I hid anything from you. We are meant to trust one another. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me or if I didn’t like you, what matters is that you trust me, and that I trust you. This partnership is meant to go both ways.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just kept looking at Peter. It looked like the world had been lifted off his shoulders whilst he also started beating himself up over what he just said. His chest was heaving and for a moment, you thought he was gonna walk towards you but instead, he took a step back.

“I’m going for a shower.”

When the door closed behind him, it took you a moment to gather yourself.

You couldn’t deny that he had a point. Maybe you hadn’t told him as much as you could have done, especially for being teammates for almost a full decade. But it wasn’t like he didn’t have his faults in it, too.

Maybe instead of ignoring you and only talking to you when he needed to, you might have warmed to him more rather than seen him as a stand-offish person who you would trust to save your life, but wouldn’t trust to put it on the edge first.

After twenty minutes, Peter emerged from the bathroom, freshly washed, clothed and ready for bed. He put away his dirty clothes and put his wash bag back in his bag before climbing under the covers that lay at the bottom of the bed.

He hadn’t said anything when you both arrived at the hotel late at night. Just took some sheets out of the cupboard and put them on the floor. When you entered the room, you said he was being ridiculous.

He just said the bed was too soft for him and that he wouldn’t sleep.

After an hour of back and forth over you telling him just to get into the bed, since it was big enough for a family of five, never mind two, he still decided to stay on the floor.

As you lay in bed, listening to the distant noises of the city, you tossed and turned before settling on your back. But you still couldn’t sleep.

Then you heard Peter.

He was tossing and turning, too.

Eventually, you heard him sigh in annoyance of sleep not taking over him.

So, wrestling with your own mind, you spoke up.

“I like Greek Mythology.”

A few seconds passed and then; “What?”

You faltered for a moment before speaking up again.

“I-I like Greek Mythology. I always have.” you said before explaining, taking your time. “When I was five, my grandmother gave me some of her old books. In the pile was a kids illustrated version of Greek Gods and Goddesses. I was obsessed. And I mean, obsessed.”

You laughed a little as you explained your obsession with Greek Mythology to him. Meanwhile, from the floor and out of sight from you, he smiled. He couldn’t even think of when he’d heard a smile in your voice. Never mind a laugh.

It was once of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard.

“For three halloween’s in a row, I went as a different Goddess.”

You fell silent for a moment in the memory before you started to speak again.

“I hate coffee. I try it once every year and it’s always the same. Absolutely disgusting.” you chuckled a little. “I spent every summer away from home at Camp where I ran a book club. I watch Rom-Coms when I’m sad because they make me feel better. My favourite flowers are blue tulips. I don’t watch thrillers because they remind me too much of work. And, I haven’t told anyone this much…ever.”

Only as you finished did you realise how much you had told him. And you felt a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach as Peter remained silent.

“Are you still there?”

Peter swallowed thickly and nodded his head, despite the fact you couldn’t see him. “Y-yeah. I’m here. Just…processing.”

“Okay.”

That conversation had been just over eight months before you got a knock at your apartment window one evening.

You had taken a couple weeks off work since you hadn’t taken any vacation days…ever. Barton had practically banned you from the building for two weeks.

The rain had been pouring over the city and, with all your work finished, you had rushed out and got some supplies before sitting in front of your TV, watching one of the many rom-coms your DVD collection provided before pulling a few books from your shelves and reading through them.

At some point, you had fallen asleep, still fully dressed, under your blankets, listening to the quiet silence of your apartment as the rain hit the windows outside.

Only, rather than continuing to sleep throughout the night, you heard a continuous tapping.

So, leaning up with tired eyes, you looked around. The loose braid you had stuck your hair in had fallen out, your bobble being lost between the cushions somewhere.

The apartment was shrouded in darkness, save for the street lights outside still lighting small sections of your apartment.

Along came more tapping until finally you turned towards the sash window that lay by the fire escape.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw him through tired eyes.

Making your way over, you pushed the window open and Peter made his way inside.

“Sorry for waking you.”

You just grumbled and closed the window to stop the rain from flying in, though it didn’t stop the small puddle made by Peter who was practically soaked to the bone from the rain.

“Ah, so this is who I lost you to.” Peter said with a slight smirk as he spotted one of your Mythology books.

“Barton said I was banished from HQ until my vacation days were finished. What are you doing here at this time of night? What even is the time?”

“I didn’t know where to go, and you’re the only one who I trust to do the job well.”

“What job?”

Finally looking at Peter, you saw it.

His body, and his clothes, were splattered with blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was his and how much of it could be somebody else's.

“You didn’t kill anyone did you?”

“No.” Peter answered. “They’re alright, just at the police station getting booked.”

You sighed as you took in even more of his wounds. “Alright. Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes. Give me your jacket.”

Peter removed it and you took it from him, including his grey hoodie.

“Bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the right.”

Peter nodded and walked down whilst you headed into the kitchen and shoved his jackets into the washing machine and pressed start. Then, from the top cupboard, you pulled down your first-aid kit that contained everything from princess plasters, from when you had been looking after your neighbour's kid for two days, to a stitching kit.

Twenty minutes later, you had a basin full of warm, blood stained water, a once-clean face cloth covered in stains of blood and a grown Avenger sat on the edge of your bathtub, wincing every now and again and you cleaned him up.

“Remind me again why you came to me?”

You turned Peter’s head to face over your right shoulder as you cleaned a graze and cut just above his eyebrow.

“Because I trust you. And I didn’t feel like getting another lecture from Laura.”

“Ah,” you nodded and Peter laughed a little.

Then he hissed.

“Sorry, I'm almost finished with this one.”

“It’s okay.” Peter flicked his gaze to you a couple of times. “T-thank you for doing this.”

“What else would I have done? Kicked you back out of the window?”

“You could have done it. I did wake you up. Clearly I didn't learn my lesson from the first time.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I did nearly beat you up.”

What Peter meant was just over two months ago. You had both become friends of sorts. But, you had fallen asleep at your lab desk one night and Peter came in to wake you up and you nearly cursed him out so much that you even had him convinced he was an intruder trying to break into your home.

“But, if you hadn’t come to me, I probably would have cursed you out when I found out, anyway.”

“Found out?”

“You can’t hide anything from me, Peter. I know everything,” you joked.

“But do you?”

Peter’s question slipped from his tongue before he could stop himself, but you didn’t know what to do. So, your eyes turned from his and you tried your best to remain calm until you saw a large spot of blood coming through his black t-shirt.

You tried your best to get to the wound that was beneath it without him removing his shirt, but you both knew it was no use.

So, awkwardly asking him, he stood and you looked to him only to find him looking back.

Slowly, he removed his shirt, trying his best not to stain the rest of his body from the blood you had just cleaned away and for a moment, you were met with his body in front of you.

Most of the blood was coming from that one wound but the top of his arms now showed a little bruising, as well as his torso, though it was more healed than you thought it would have been.

Finding yourself staring for a little too long, you forced your gaze back to his face where he’d removed the shirt from over his head and lowered himself back down onto the edge of the tub, opening up his legs for you to stand between them once more.

Though, it was in that moment that you realised how close you had been standing to him this entire time.

“Th-This might sting a little.”

Peter nodded and you watched as he clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the grunt that tried to escape from him as you cleaned out the wound.

“You might need some stitches.” you mentioned. “I can do them here, though they might not be Laura standard.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

You nodded and tried your best to ignore the fact that Peter was looking at you as you looked for your stitching kit and began working.

In your peripheral vision, you could see some of his bruises already starting to heal, though some might take more than a couple hours.

Even with his adapted DNA.

“If you want, you can stay here for the night. I have a spare set of pyjamas if you need them.”

“You sure they’ll be my size?”

You laughed a little. “My, uh, my neighbour gave them to me. She bought a set for her husband but when they came they were too big for him. She told me to keep them in case I ever had someone…stay the night. They might be too big for you, too but they have a drawstring so…”

“Okay.”

You looked at him for a split second and then looked back to his wound with a small nod.

Soon enough you finished and stepped back to grab the face cloth before dipping it into a fresh basin of warm water to clean off the rest of his wounds that would heal soon enough.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

As you looked at Peter when he stood, there was a moment of…everything.

Neither of you were moving, yet his eyes and your own spoke a thousand unspoken words between their gazes.

Without thinking, Peter lifted his hand to meet your own, allowing you to place the cloth down before he pulled you a little closer.

Your name left his lips in a small whisper, a plea, a wish of permission.

You felt yourself stand a little taller as his other hand came to your face, brushing the loose hair from your face, behind your ear.

His eyes continued to flick from your eyes to your lips, as yours did the same with him.

There was time for you to stop. For you to say no. And if you did, he would have stepped away and, most likely, would have apologised and left.

But you didn’t want that.

Each tantalising moment that passed, you wished for time to hurry up. For his lips to finally meet yours.

And once they did, there was no turning back.

At first it was soft, until you both became hungry for more.

Leaning in, your hands came to his neck to pull him closer to you.

Eventually, the kiss broke apart for a moment, your heads resting together, your eyes partly closed.

“Was that-”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

Peter chuckled a little before feeling your lips connect to his, allowing his hands to pull your body flush against his.

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befuddled-calico-whump · 1 month

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their "never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an elf" moment

(from the AU described in the second half of this ask)

Jin tried to go to his department with evidence of crimes against humanity committed by Rotorworx, not knowing the city police were paid off by the company to keep things hush-hush. After being warned several times to drop it, Jin and Wes were turned over to Rotorworx. Company employees then proceeded to (poorly) interrogate the pair to find out what they'd learned so far.

(art tag:

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @whumpsday , @regrets-realization-acceptance , @kixngiggles , @randomlifeunit , @darkthingshappen

#whump art #riotkings au #beaten #torture #interrogation whump #whumpy art #blood #bruising #enemies to friends #rk rotorworx au

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annablogsposts · 8 months

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Whump idea: hundreds of years ago, peasants revolt against the upper class. A knight / noble / lord / prince was abducted, and was pretty much just an absolute punching bag for all of them. To the point where he’s just broken.

A farmer, or laborer or something, sees him and is just like “this is too far” and discreetly cares for him; giving him lots of water, giving him extra porridge, letting him sleep inside when no one is looking etc.

and the noble is initially distrustful after all he’s been through, but soon he becomes insanely grateful and feels indebted to him for this.

If anyone would like to write this, please do!! I’d love to read it :)

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 6 months

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a fight between characters who hate each other but also secretly love and care about each other

tw: violence (not romanticizing anything, this is purely fictional)

slam their head against the wall? sure, but with a hand on the back of their head to soften the impact / make sure the other’s head don’t directly hit the wall.

hands around their throat? yes, but for some frustrating, unknown reasons, they could never actually apply the pressure.

intense gaze at the other’s eyes? why not? except the problem is that, behind all those anger and hatred, there are… some other emotions they never want the other to see, but they can never completely hide them.

panting hard, faces getting a little too close to each other they feel the other’s hot breath land on their lips? nice, but why are they unconsciously shifting their eyes until they’re looking at each other’s lips like that???

threw them across the room? lovely, though they make sure the other land on something soft instead of the hard floor

bonus, this trope;

❝ yes, they are my enemy. mine. only I can hurt them. touch them and I’ll make you pay. ❞

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unboundprompts · 6 months

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Can I get prompts for two rivals/frenemies who start to bond over Horror films and Mystery/Detective books?

Thank you!

Prompts for Rivals Bonding over Horror Movies and Mystery Books

-> cw for spoiling the ending of some popular movies and books.

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

-----------

Character A glanced up as B sat down across from them. They rustled through their bag and finally settled as they opened a book. "What are you reading?" A asked, returning to the paper they were working on.

"Murders in the Rue Morgue," B responded.

"Oh."

It was silent for a few minutes as A continued to type on their laptop. Finally, without looking up from their work, A casually said, "A monkey did it."

B paused in their reading to look up at them. After a beat, they chuckled. "Very funny, A. No way would I believe that."

A showed no sign of even hearing their comment, still typing away. A few more minutes passed before B slammed their book down on the table. Character A looked up at them with a smirk.

B glowered at them. "You motherfucker."

----------

"You haven't seen the Conjuring movies?"

"No, they don't seem that interesting."

"Okay, buddy. Come over to my house tonight at six, and you can tell me if they 'don't seem interesting to you' after we watch all three."

----------

Character A reached over to see what book B was reading. And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.

"Good choice," A said nonchalantly, pulling out a book of their own.

B seemed taken aback, but quickly recovered. "Thanks," they said. "It's pretty good so far."

"Any ideas on who the killer is?"

B shrugged, flipping back a couple of pages. "Vera maybe? She seems too innocent to actually be innocent."

"No," A responded. "It's the retired judge. You don't expect it to be him because he faked his death."

"I'm going to kill you." B seethed. "What are you reading?"

A snickered. "Murder on the Orient Express, which I know you haven't read."

B pulled out their phone. "No, I haven't, but I just looked it up. 'Ratchett's true identity is revealed: he was John Cassetti, Daisy's kidnapper and murderer.'"

Character A snapped their book closed. "I hate you."

"We're even now. Don't let it happen again."

---------

Character A leapt out of the way as B came running past them. "Where are you going?" They yelled after them.

B slowed, but only for a brief moment. They continued to walk in the direction they were heading as they yelled back to A. "Character C just texted that they were going to watch Human Centipede! I've got to stop them before it changes them forever!"

A's heart ran cold. "Oh God," they whispered before sprinting after Character B.

----------

Character B stared at the book that A had just shoved into their hands. They raised a brow at them. "What's this?"

"Arthur Conan Doyle," A responded matter of factly. "Thought you'd like it."

"Oddly touching. You better not spoil this one."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

----------

A torn piece of paper fell out of the book Character B was reading. It was scribbled in Character A's unmistakable handwriting.

'Jack Stapleton killed him so he would inherit the estate.'

#ask box prompts #writing prompts #dialogue prompt #otp prompts #creative writing #prompt list #writeblr #story prompt #mystery/thriller prompts #mystery prompts #hero and villain prompts #enemies to friends #enemies to lovers prompts #horror prompts #rival prompts

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nerdestiwrites · 2 months

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predator and prey, chapter two (hazbin hotel reader insert)

The trip to the less than three star looking hotel had been a rather uneventful one, which was more than what most people hoped for in a day in Hell. It had just been less than a full twenty four hours since the announcement of the accelerated deadline of the next Extermination and the streets were filled with sinners freaking out and causing chaos, doing every sin possible. That wasn’t any different than any other day, but it seemed to even bring out those who seemed to have more self control than others.

The hotel itself wasn’t inspiring but you’ve lived in worse and had friends that lived in worse so you weren’t going to complain. Rent was expensive, especially in Hell, and you couldn’t imagine the cost for any building to own. Being the princess of Hell seemed to have it’s perks, but even perks had downsides.

You walked up the hill towards the looming hotel, your eyes scanning over the exterior as your head tilted to the side briefly. A ship seemed to have been embedded into the framework of the hotel itself and there was an eyesore of a radio tower hanging off the roof of it, and if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t entirely sure how one entered the radio tower.

Stopping at the front door, you took in a sharp breath as you lifted your hand to knock. The sounds of arguing from inside made you hesitate for just a moment, were you supposed to knock? It was a hotel after all, you never knocked on a hotel’s door before when you were living, was it different because it was Hell? Or because it was the Princess’?

Before you could think of the different cultural differences there might be you haven’t experienced yet, you walked through the doors, opting out of knocking. You smiled brightly, putting on a perfect customer service persona you learned quickly got you better tips when you served back when you had been alive. “Hi!” You said excitedly, giving a small wave.

Inside the main area of the room, the lobby you would’ve called it, stood three people. Two were standing near a couch, both now staring at you in shock, one with excitement speckled in, and the third behind a bar that looked out of place considering the rest of the decor of the interior of the hotel. The blonde raced forwards and pulled your hand into her own, shaking it enthusiastically, a wide smile on her face. You shook back, just as enthuisastically, meeting her energy, best have a good impression.

“Hi! I’m Charlie!” She explained as she let go of your hand, seeming to be vibrating with excitement at your presence within the hotel. She motioned the other to approach, who did and seemed to eye you suspiciously.

You in turn say your name and glanced around the lobby once more. “I saw just the brief start of your commercial- didn’t really get to see all of it with the interruption of the news. But I figured I’d come check it out, is that okay?”

Charlie nodded quickly and motioned for you to step further into the lobby, motioning around as she spun, “Of course! This is the Hazbin Hotel! Our goal here is to take sinners and rehabilitate them so they might get a chance at redemption and go to Heaven!”

That certainly was something. A chance at redemption, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Once you realized you were in Hell, you figured that was it, that you’d always be in Hell, unless killed. A chance to go through the pearly gates and maybe see your family again had completely left your mind. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go to Heaven, with your plan and all.

It was clear from the look on the others face that it hadn’t yet been proven to even actually happen yet, that this whole thing was just a new concept they were attempting. It was noble, to say the least, to try and save the souls who had been condemned for eternity only to be killed again. You still weren’t sure what happened when a soul was killed for a second time. Was there a super hell? A second afterlife? Would it really be worse than Hell?

Charlie grabbed your attention from your thoughts as she motioned towards the person standing next to her. “This is Vaggie, and over there is our bartender Husk! This is the parlor where we’ll be doing our daily activities to try and reform sinners, everyone will have a room of their own, and somewhere around here is Nifty our house keeper and Alastor is out for the day but he’s usually here as well.”

That caught your attention. Alastor, the Radio Demon, who had been missing for seven years, was here at the hotel meant to redeem souls. So, he wasn’t dead then, and seemed to be playing house with the princess of Hell. Perhaps he had a similar idea as you did, get close to the princess in hopes of earning favor with her. You made a low hum, keeping your surprise to yourself. “I’m not entirely sold on the whole redemption thing just yet… After all I haven’t even been in Hell for a year yet. There’s still so much I haven’t seen.” You joked, giving a half smile.

At your words you could see Charlie deflate slightly, the excitement and enthusiasm dying down slightly. She however nodded, not intending to try and force you to stay if you didn’t want to. She stared at you momentarily before giving another smile, still warm, still welcoming. The princess seemed like a good soul, someone who definitely didn’t deserve to be in Hell, cursed to be due to who her parents were.

“I’m gonna think about it though. So if I’m back in a few days, don’t be surprised.” You continued as you took a step forwards, grabbing Charlies hand, and shaking it gently.

She returned the gesture, shaking your hand back before letting go. “Yes- yes of course! I’ll make sure Nifty gets a room cleaned up fo ryou, just in case. And don’t even worry if you decide against it, I’m sure we’ll have more people wanting to be redeemed at any moment.”

You could hear the confidence in her voice, you could see it plastered across her face, her motivation and thrive to redeem those around her, save them, it reminded you of your younger siblings. And the reminder that they were still alive, or at least you hoped they were still alive, up on Earth, having had to go to your funeral, mourn you, caused a grief you hadn’t expected to feel. You never even thought about how they might be doing until just then.

“Right-” You cleared your throat to ensure it didn’t crack at the sudden wave of emotions hitting her chest, the hurt wrapping around your heart. “Well, good to hear I’ll have a room! Hoping for little chocolate mints on my pillow and free shampoos.” Joking was a good coping mechanism and defense mechanism. Distracting from yourself and keeping the mood lighthearted.

“I do have to go though, thank you for talking with me and telling me about the hotel though!” You waved as you turned quickly to leave the hotel, not giving the residents a chance to respond to your departure. You needed to be alone, you dealt with your emotions best alone. That didn’t change just because you were dead and in Hell.

The journey home was one that you barely could remember, too stuck in your thoughts to pay any attention to your environment around you. That would normally have been incredibly dangerous, to walk down the streets of Hell without any perception of what was going on around you, but even demons who had half a mind seemed to see that bothering you in that moment wouldn’t end well for them.

The first time in just under a year you felt homesick. The first time in just under a year you missed your little siblings. You missed your friends, your pets, fuck, you missed your pets. They wouldn’t have even understood the reason you never came home that night. They would’ve thought you just abandoned them- that you didn’t want them anymore. You hoped beyond hope that your roommates, your parents, someone took them in.

You made it to your small apartment, that just this morning you would’ve called home, but now it felt empty and cold. You stared from the doorway, imagining how things could’ve been different, how you could still be alive, what you could be doing if you were still alive. It was a good thing you didn’t have this spiral when you first arrived in Hell, who knows what might’ve happened.

A text tone snapped you out of your stupor and you glanced down at the phone in your hands, the screen brightness burning your eyes in contrast to your dark apartment. It was from Velvette but your brain wasn’t processing what she had sent. You blinked a few times as your eyes narrowed, seeing a picture of Valentino seemingly having a full blown meltdown over something, the picture capturing a moment of mid throwing some poor soul across the room.

You: hate him. Want to grab a drink?

Getting out of your dark lonely apartment seemed like a good idea, and being alone seemed better. You enjoyed hanging out with Velvette but knew that with her busy schedule of being apart of the Vs and an overlord it was rare for just the two of you to hang out. Especially since your friendship was still hidden from the other Vs, and Vox seemed to have cameras everywhere.

Velvy: got an hour left here in the studio

Velvy: meet at HornPub?

You: be there

You turned, opened the door, and stepped out back onto the streets of Hell, heading down to the small bar that was uncreatively named. A drink or ten was exactly what you needed to get your mind off of the what ifs and hypotheticals. You knew you were going an hour early, two hours as you knew Velvette had the habit of running late, but you figured you’d get a headstart and maybe pull in a few deals, gain a few more favors owed while waiting and drinking. And, who better than to vent to than the bartender. It was like therapy but you could get drunk at the same time.

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miakate-writes · 7 months

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writing prompts 🫧

[a/n: if you use any of my prompts pls make sure to tag me if you post them, i would love to read your interpretations of them. also, if you have any requests/suggestions for prompt lists feel free to put them in my asks box and i will get to them asap. if you enjoy my content then i urge you to follow me on social media (my links can be found here) pls]

domestic romance prompts

best friends to lovers prompts

angst prompts

touch starved comfort prompts

touch starved trauma comfort prompts

roommates to lovers prompts

grumpy x sunshine prompts

protective/possessive prompts

enemies to lovers prompts

enemies to friends/lovers prompts

friends with benefits prompts

idiots to lovers prompts

academic rivals to lovers prompts

romance dialogue prompts

new year's eve/day romance prompts

friends to lovers prompts

"slut!" by taylor swift inspired prompts

roommates to lovers prompts

period comfort prompts

pining x unreciprocated prompts

forbidden romance prompts

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writingsfromhome · 1 year

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Things to Learn

Request: hiii idk if youve thought about this but what about a mean girl!yn and nerd!harry high school fic or something like that :))

A/N: it is what the request says, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but writing a mean girl!yn was different for me. I also wrote this from Harry’s third pov so that’s also different lol. Hope you enjoy it? Thanks for the req :) <3

———————————————

Harry hated girls like her. Hate was a strong word, he knew that. And he used it still.

He eyes her again as she sits on the lunch table and talks animatedly to her friends about something shallow or irrelevant. He goes back to the sandwich he had for lunch.

“She’s out of your league mate,” Harry’s best friend tells him.

“What?”

“YN? You’re staring at her. She’s out of your league. Like so far that even if you climbed a mountain and looked over everything you wouldn’t be able to see-“

“I got it,” Harry didn’t like her. He knew she was well out of his league and he didn’t care. He had one more year of this shite called high school and then he was off to uni. His sister always told him high school labels didn’t follow you there. “I don’t even like her. I was just looking.”

His friend makes a noise, he didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious. Ms. Easton partnered us in history probably because she’s not doing well. I’ve got the highest grade. But she’s insufferable.”

“You’re insufferable,” his friend shoots back. “If I was partnered with her I’d be shooting my shot. Every chance.”

“I’d rather shoot myself,” Harry mutters. He had history next period and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Their class had booked the library for research period and that meant suffering through it with YN.

He’s first to arrive at the library and books a computer. They were researching the royal family, he didn’t know what angle the paper was going to be from but he would figure it out later. Alone. Because YN was always too busy not giving a shit.

The truth was, he just didn’t understand girls like YN. How they could be so shallow and rude for no reason, he didn’t think the world was rainbows and unicorns but it was decent to just be a little nicer. She was judgemental, loud, and of course attractive as hell. But her personality ruined any good looks in his opinion. So even though he was staring at lunch, he didn’t find her very attractive.

“I guess we’re sitting here,” speak of the devil. Surprisingly YN is here before the bell goes off. She sits in the seat next to Harry and her bag is thrown on the floor.

“Hi to you too,” Harry mutters. He ignores her, continuing to flip through his textbook for the correct chapter.

“Have we decided on a topic?”

Harry grits his teeth. I don’t know YN have we? Instead he says, “No.”

“Oh, well why not just do it on what’s going on right now?”

“Because it’s a history class,” Harry finally look at her. He remembers it was a little nerve wracking to do that when they were first partnered but now his annoyance triumphed any nerves.

“And?” She scrunches her brows. “Isn’t that the point?”

She had no idea what she was talking about. He shakes his head and goes back to his textbook.

“You don’t have to be such a nerd all the time you know that?” She continues.

Harry ignores her.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. Who did she think she was?

“Can we just work?” Harry couldn’t stand her.

The bell rings. YN picks up her phone in a huff and Harry goes back to Googling for their project.

***

Harry packs his bag with the books he needs as students rush past him to go home. His bag weighed a million pounds and he’s pretty sure it aged his back 40 years but it was either his grades or his back that suffered.

“Hey Harry,” a voice calls out to him as we heads out the door. He turns to it; Raina, one of YN’s friends. She twirls her blonde hair and tilts her head. “It is Harry right?”

“Uhm,” suddenly Harry’s throat was parched. Raina was gorgeous and gorgeous girls never spoke to him.

“You’re cute,” she gets up close and personal with Harry and everything in that big brain of his liquifies and slides away. “So I heard you’re giving my bestie a hard time.”

“Your-uh,” what was wrong with him? Focus!

“My bestie! YN?”

“Oh,” the name snaps him out. Was this a prank, why was Raina talking to him? “W-what?”

“I thought you were smart,” she tilts her head again, this time Harry understands it to be condescending. “Did you not understand the question?”

Harry hears a snicker from behind him. His heart drops, he knew what was happening yet he walked right into it.

“Harry’s really smart,” YN’s voice comes from behind. “So smart he can’t even talk to me. Like, I’ll bring down your IQ or something right?”

“I never said that,” Harry turns, back to the wall like he was in some sort of fight for his life and he had to cover all his angles.

“Then what’s your problem?” YN demands. Her friend takes a back seat, staring at him from behind YN’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say I had one,” Harry mumbles.

“What? Speak up!” With one hand on her hip, YN was the image of a mean girl. Harry’s gaze flickers up to her face and he realizes she was actually angry. At him. He looks away.

“You’re so pathetic,” she tells him. “You can barely look me in the eye when I’m talking to you but you think you’re a hot shot just cuz you get straight As. You can take your intellectual superiority and shove it up your ass.”

He was surprised to hear her say intellectual superiority, then he realizes the irony of thinking that.

“This guy bothering you?”

Great. Harry hitches his backback higher on his shoulders. One of YN’s soccer star boyfriends had joined. He looks Harry up and down with a condescending smirk.

“No, I got it.” YN says but her friend opens her big mouth.

“He thinks he’s the smartest person here, he treats YN like shite.”

“Really?” He turns to Harry and now is when Harry realizes he was deep in. There was no way out.

“I’m sorry,” he looks YN in the eye and only her. He had to make a quick exit, find a way out of this before these meatheads decided to defend YN’s honour or something like that.

“Too late for sorry,” Raina says. Another guy—Brett joins the crowd.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Nothing,” YN says while her eyes stay on Harry.

“Hey Harry! Mate! This guy helped me pass my maths last semester.”

“Yeah he’s a nerd,” the other guy says to Brett. “That’s the point.”

“Hey Brett,” Harry nods. He should go, he thinks. Make a move. Get out of this circle forming around him.

“He’s a dick to YN,” Raina reminds everyone. What was her issue? “And he’s always staring at her like a creep.”

YN turns to look at her friend. Raina widens her eyes and shrugs.

“What the fuck?” The other guy, Harry had no idea what his name was, steps closer to Harry. “Are you a fucking perv?”

Statistically, this guy with his brute force and reactivity was probably more likely to be a perv over the years than Harry. But Harry doesn’t think it’s a good time to say that.

“Anyway,” YN says and with that all eyes are on her. “Apology not accepted. I’m over this let’s go.”

She walks away from him, Raina eyes him and follows. Their friend gives Harry the stink eye and follows too. Brett’s left. He shrugs and finally leaves Harry alone.

Little by little the breath comes back to his lungs and with shaky steps Harry exits the building. Some students lingering in the hall stare as he goes, probably the audience to what almost went down. And this was why Harry hated YN.

***

Over the next week Harry tries to be less intellectually superior to YN and practices looking her in the eye. He doesn’t know why it was so hard.

And it surprises him when the words coming out of her mouth aren’t entirely superficial and basic. But she continues to verbally abuse and belittle him and Harry continues to take it, his ire growing more by the day.

Just on Tuesday, at lunch she’d sent one of her boyfriends to sit at his table where he threatened Harry. Harry’s friend had stared at his phone the whole time, traitor. And yesterday YN had listed for him all the ways he could improve his appearance during class.

“Your hair could use a nice trim,” she tells him. “And your glasses are so 1970s. Like not in a trendy way. And honestly Harry why do you wear clothes that are too big and too old. Like seriously…”

It was hard not to be a know-it-all when that’s what she wanted to spend her time talking about.

“My appearance isn’t really a priority for me,” Harry had said hoping to shut her up.

“It really should be. Hey,” she’d called out to a friend of hers in class. “Don’t you think Harry’s style is sad?”

“Him?” Her friend had asked, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say it in front of him. Harry had burned with embarrassment. “Yeah I reckon he could use a makeover.”

“Yeah maybe then he’d get a girlfriend. Get his nose out of his books.”

They laughed and the sound was haunting. Harry stayed staring at his book, gritting his teeth. He’d never had a girlfriend, gone on two dates in his life. It didn’t usually bother him but somehow YN made it feel like an open wound.

On Thursday, they have another research period.

“And how are we doing here?” Ms. Easton leans down and balances on their table. Harry and YN opted for a table and books this period.

“Good,” YN sits up. “Just finishing our research.”

“Good,” Ms. Easton smiles. “Did you two decide on a topic?”

Harry doesn’t look but he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Harry wanted to do the royal family and their war legacy.”

“Hm.”

Harry was sensitive to feedback. When you’re smart you don’t get a lot of criticism, and when you do, it’s a hard pill to swallow. That’s why he was so sensitive to the tone of his teacher’s voice. He looks up to her. Was it just him or did she look a bit disappointed.

“S’not a good topic?” Harry asks. YN glances at him.

“Well,” the teacher crosses an arm over her abdomen and waves the other hand. She was choosing her words. “I was hoping putting the two of you together would produce an interesting project. Something out of the ordinary.”

“Oh.” Harry feels his grade flash in front of his eyes. Well, not flash but plummet.

“Hmph,” YN says in satisfaction. “Well Harry here felt very strongly about the topic.”

“Okay,” Ms. Easton pursues her lips. “It is a good topic. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it at the end of the month!”

As soon as their teacher is out of hearing range YN turns to Harry.

“I told you so.”

With that, she gets out of her seat and walks away. Out of the library, swiping the hall pass on her way out.

Suddenly he was hot. Very hot. Harry could feel the sweat dampen his shirt and he pulls the collar away from his neck. His project was disappointing? He was doing something wrong?

He stumbles up and finds Ms. Easton.

“Yes Harry?” She addresses him when she’s done with the pair she’d been talking to.

“Um what you said,” Harry clears his throat. “About the project. And pairing me with YN. I don’t understand…should we change it?”

“Up to you two to decide!” She says vaguely. “I can’t pick your topics for you. And you should only change it if you think you have enough time.”

“But our topic is disappointing?” Harry didn’t understand why Ms. Easton would make those comments and not just tell them upfront what she wants.

“No not at all!” she guides Harry to a bookshelf where it’s quieter. “War is a classic topic. But it’s also a very…straightforward topic do you understand?”

Classic was good. Classic was timeless, is that not what she wanted!?

“Harry,” she chides when he continues staring at her. “Listen. You’re a bright kid. Really, proper smart. I know you’ll do amazing in your future regardless of what I say in this class.”

It was YN. There was a but coming and she was going to say something about YN.

“But I’ve had a few bright kids in my class before. The thing about history is it repeats and the pattern I see is that there’s a creative energy even in something like history that’s lost on big brains like yours. That’s why I paired you with YN. I thought you two would complement the way you think really well. I was hoping to see a new topic come out of it. That’s not to say your current topic isn’t fabulous. I think if you want to continue with it, I’m excited to learn more.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say. Actually, he’s embarrassed. This whole time he thought being partnered with YN was because she was failing or doing horribly. When really it was because the teacher thought he could use some help. Intellectual superiority 100, Harry 0.

“You two are getting along right?” Ms. Easton probes.

“Yeah,” Harry lies.

“She’s letting you call the shots?” She asks casually.

“Ehm,” Harry wavers. He had taken the reigns immediately because he didn’t think she could handle them. He feels his face turn more pink.

“The great thing about this project is to collaborate. Throughout history some of the best things were brought from collaborating…”

Harry zones her out and looks back at their desk. YN is still not there. Maybe she was skipping. But he spots her bag, that wasn’t true.

“Oh I better go help out your classmate,” Ms. Easton points to where someone has their hand up. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry shakes the funk off. Maybe he’ll listen to YN more now but they only had a week and a half and it would be crazy to change their topic now.

But as he sits in his seat and waits for YN to return, to collaborate with, he feels it again. The sinking feeling. Like something was his fault.

YN was the mean girl but he hasn’t been the most friendly either.

After another 10 minutes go by he gets out of his seat and grabs the second hall pass.

He spots around the toilets, moves through the halls, and makes his way back to a stairwell. There YN leans against a wall on her phone. She doesn’t look up as he walks down until he stands in front of her.

“Oh,” the glow of her phone moves off her face, muffled by her sweater. “I thought you were random.”

“Are you coming back?” Harry asks. Still, his eyes flit from her face to her neck, settling on the wall behind her.

“Why does it matter? You’re doing the project with or without me.”

His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as he swallows. He should apologize. He should-

“Why are you so awkward for?” She demands. “Like. You’re smart and all but you’re kind of weird.”

Nevermind. He was so not apologizing.

“Hello? And then you go so quiet when I say anything direct. You can be smart as shite but you’re not making it anywhere if you can’t even talk to a girl without staring a hole into the space beside her.”

Harry’s mum always said to be himself. This was him, smart (nerdy—fine), quiet, awkward, and bookish. But it wasn’t easy to be this way when girls like YN existed. They were confident and loud, and she called him out like his sister did. But she was nothing like her. She was beautiful and she knew it. And she was rude, but maybe her mum told her to be herself too and this was it.

“What are you thinking?�� She demands.

“What?” Harry asks in surprise.

“I want to know what the fuck you’re thinking in that big brain! You’re so awkward! Jeez!”

“I’m-I-why?”

“I don’t get you.” She gives him a once over. “So? What were you thinking?“

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously I-“

“Tell me.”

“I…” Harry trails away. He turns away from her and walks to the other end of the stairwell, pivots, and stands a few feet in front of her. “I was just wondering if this is who you really are.”

“Me? How am I?” Eyes narrowed, she sounds both curious and defensive.

“Really?” Harry meets her eye. “You’ve got such an attitude, you’re rude and loud and pushy, and I don’t know why you don’t like me but you’re always so condescending so I was just wondering if that’s who you are. Like when your mum says to be yourself, is that who you chose?”

Her mouth drops, then it snaps shut and her arms cross over in defence.

“You know why I don’t like you?” She asks. “Because you’ve got an attitude. You’re rude and pushy and condescending to fuck. So let me ask you—is that who you are? Is that who mummy tucks into bed each night?”

Harry’s impressed how she’s turned it around on him. He doesn’t take it seriously until she breaks eye contact and looks away.

“If I listened to my mom’s advice, I would be a bloody doormat in this place. I’d be used and discarded like a wet wipe. I have to be rude and pushy. And don’t even get me started on boys like you, who call girls pushy just because they know what they want. I can’t afford to be who I am, like you can, because I don’t have the privilege of being a bloke.”

They have a stare-off, mostly Harry is just surprised at everything coming out of her mouth. She goes on.

“I know who you are Harry. I know you’ve got a mum and sister you’re close with. I’ve seen you around town. For someone with two women like that in your life you can look up to, you sure are a misogynistic prick.”

Harry’s left stunned. He didn’t think she ever noticed him let alone know him. He replays her words, her glimpse of vulnerability. If her words were an essay, there would be no red ink. It was hard for him to accept but she was right. From the start, when Ms. Easton paired them he made a million assumptions about her. That were all proven wrong. And Ms. Easton was right too: he was smart and good at being smart but maybe there was more than that.

“Now you’re quiet again!?” YN sounds defeated.

“No wait,” Harry speaks up before she leaves. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“Yeah whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m over this.”

“Actually,” he steps in the same direction she does as she heads for the door. She stops in surprise. “Actually I am sorry. I was being intellectually superior. You’re smart too. I’m sorry.”

She looks at him warily, like he was going to laugh at her and tell her he was joking. When he doesn’t, when he maintains eye contact even though it kills him inside she backs away. Her face relaxes, like she’s accepted backing down. It was quite a sight for Harry, to see YN the Mean Girl who’s been making the last couple weeks hell for him, transform into something softer. Something that—he was still nervous to look at for too long, but one he could look at a little easier.

“I don’t want to write about the royal family and their fucking war legacy.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that.

“That’s basic as hell, I’m falling asleep just imagining us presenting it. It’s like buying drugstore when we can be buying Sephora.”

She squints at him, waiting for a rebuttle but he lets her have this one. After what Ms. Easton said, Harry was realizing that being smart didn’t mean you were right all the time. And he also had no idea what her example meant.

“Wow. Nothing?”

“No, I agree.” Harry smiles, a little embarrassed but wow. Her mouth splits into a grin and it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly younger, carefree, in that moment as Harry remembers how to breathe, he sees the person her mother tells her to be.

“What?” The staircase dims as she takes the smile back. “Are you going to go back to being mute.”

“No,” I was just admiring how beautiful you looked right now. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. But you’re also way out of my league so now I have to act cool about it. “I just don’t know if we have time-“

“Stop.” She puts her hand up and walks towards him, back to the doors. “I’m going to come up with a pitch so good I’ll be picking your jaw off the floor and wiring it shut again. And…you can pitch your sad topic to me. The best one wins.”

“But we can just vote our own,” Harry points out the flaw in her plan, ignoring her threat.

“I think we’re both mature enough to hear each other out?” She opens the door back to the hall and Harry scrambles through it to keep up.

“I know I am,” Harry says it before he can think. Uh oh.

“You’re cheeky,” YN eyes him but she doesn’t look upset. Actually, she looks delighted. “Not just a quiet nerd hm?”

Harry shrugs, they had really been their stereotypes the last few weeks.

“So what you said before, you think I’m smart?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” Harry felt uncomfortable now on the spot.

“So like you think I can be the future prime minister?”

“I…don’t know about that.” Harry side eyes her to notice she’s smiling. She was teasing him.

The bell rings out as they near the library.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” she says to him. She shoots him another smile and Harry tries to memorize it, second guessing he ever thought she was unattractive.

***

That Friday it’s like Harry and YN never had that conversation. She ignores him in the halls as usual, her friends sneer at him when they catch him looking their way. As much as Harry didn’t want to be disappointed, he was. Why did he think anything was going to be different?

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile was a loop in his head any time his mind wanders. No wonder their whole grade was in love with her.

“You’re staring. Again.” Harry’s mate says at lunch. This time Harry looks away quickly, embarrassed. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “She’s just been making my life hell since we partnered up.”

“Yeah I heard those guys roughened you up at lunch the other day.”

They didn’t. But they did aim a basketball around the net as Harry was walking by yesterday and it had hit him. His glasses had fallen off but luckily nothing broke.

“Just one more week,” Harry mutters. Earlier this week he was counting down the days. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When the bell rings signalling the end of lunch, Harry is surprised when YN falls in line with him to their class.

“Pitch ready?” She asks. She smelled amazing like flowers and tea. Focus.

“Yep,” Harry didn’t put much effort into it. He didn’t have the same passion he did before and he was curious what YN had.

They get the last 20 minutes of class to work on their project. YN sits behind Harry so he turns when their time starts.

“Me first,” YN brings out a binder. She pulls out a folded piece of paper that she hands. He opens it and glitter falls into his lap.

“Ugh!” Harry jumps up but despite that his crotch sparkles. “What is this?”

YN’s eyes are lit up and she hides her giggles behind her hand. Harry stares, turning pink. Why would she do that?

“I’m so-“ she covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” She’s shaking as she tries to stop laughing. It’s kind of contagious and Harry cracks a smile.

“My pants are covered in glitter,” he deadpans which send her head onto the table as she shakes with laughter.

“It was just supposed to lighten the mood ohmygod,” YN can barely finish her sentence.

That was it. Harry tries to pick up whatever glitter he can, using the paper (he realizes it was her pitch) as a dustpan. He taps her behind the shoulder and she jumps up to turn, in that moment he dumps the paper on her and sits back down in satisfaction.

“Now we’re even,” Harry tell her. Her mouth is open in shock.

“No!” She tries to dust it off but her crotch, that Harry glances at, is also shimmering. “We were even after I did that to you! This is! Oh my god.”

She stands over Harry, her eyes glancing at his pants. A snicker escapes. Then she’s back in her seat laughing.

“I have to say your pitch is not going well,” Harry reminds her.

“Oh my god,” she tried to get serious but she’s still grinning. Harry doesn’t mind.

“Should I go first?” He asks.

“No no I got this. Okay. The royal family and…their influence on food. Now before you think it’s stupid did you know the matriarch actually has a list of forbidden foods. And if we go back, and look at the countries they invaded we can see…” YN grows serious, but passionate, as she begins pitching the topic. And before anything just her passion alone convinces Harry they had to do this topic. “From land to table.”

“Okay.” Harry says.

“Okay? Like that was just okay?”

“No, I vote your topic.”

“Oh my god really?” She lights up and it’s blinding. Harry wanted to make her light up every chance he got. Focus.

“Yeah I think it’s interesting. And different. But we only have a week.”

“That’s okay!” YN opens her binder and pulls out another sheet. “I did a bunch of research. I couldn’t really sleep last night cuz of…anyway. So our library has all these books that can help. And we can spend the weekend catching up right? We can meet at the local library and work. So we’re caught up by Monday.”

Wow. She really thought this through.

“Isn’t that too nerdy for you?” Harry has to ask. Didn’t she have something cooler to do on the weekend.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. That was the YN he knew. “Just because I’m not a nerd doesn’t mean I don’t care about my grades. You should know my lowest grade has been 82 this year.”

Wow. Even though Harry never scored below 95 that was still impressive coming from her. Which it shouldn’t be, he reminds himself. She was smart—just in a different way.

“Okay let’s do it!” Harry was excited. He suddenly understood what Ms. Easton was trying to say, he was missing creativity.

“Yay!” She squeezes his arm and Harry’s never felt more aware of his arm in his life. YN notices him freezing and she pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t give you my cooties did I?”

She was quick. But it was funny and Harry can’t help but let out a snort.

“Is that a laugh? Are you laughing at something I said about you?”

Harry shakes his head and turns in his seat but his face is stuck in the grin. YN continues to heckle him from behind but she’s interrupted by the bell.

“Give me your number,” she says as he packs up. “So we can coordinate tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry pulls up his contacts and hands her his phone. “Just put yours in.”

“Okay, I’m texting myself too,” she types for a while and then hands it back. It’s only later when she texts him at the end of the day does he click her contact.

Future Prime Minister YN ❤️

The picture is one of her from below with a serious face on. When he squints he realizes she’s flipping him off. It’s funny, and Harry feels like he sees her now. Even though she couldn’t always be herself like he could, Harry now understood her enough to recognize the glimpses of herself she was giving him.

It’s destined that every nerd falls for the mean girl. Harry never believed that until now. As YN becomes more recognizable to him, his crush grows a little more. He had to nip this in the bud, he realizes. Because she would never feel the same way. In a million years. But maybe they could be friends. Maybe it was time for Harry to discover who he could be when he wasn’t spending all his time being nerdy. He had a lot to learn from her, he realizes. And the one thing he was good at was studying.

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