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simpjaes · 2 months

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hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #hardthots

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kokoa-la · 10 months

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Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm.

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall.

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library.

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much.

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist.

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid.

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.”

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute.

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #red hood #danny fenton #danny phantom #danny fenton is a huge nerd #figuring out interdimensional travel instead of finishing his 5 page english paper due 'like yesterday'#jason has done many things he regrets #breaking into a college isnt one #neither is asking out the cute nerd with eccentric capabilities #if only jason knew what he was getting into #boo #jason todd x danny fenton #dead on main #college au #gotham university

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sc0tters · 7 months

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Birthday Do Over | Quinn Hughes

summary: it’s Quinn’s birthday and you can’t held but fuel your need to see him.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing?

word count: 1.53k

authors note: I wasn’t going to write this but when the request came in and it being Quinn’s birthday the opportunity was too great to pass up. Kaylin if you see that I used your answers to my cake questions, surprise? This piece is a lot of flashbacks people so pay attention to the regular italics!

You knew you shouldn’t have been doing this.

But as the three red bulls in your system kept you up you couldn’t help it as you stood in the kitchen baking.

October 14th, Quinn’s birthday and his first since you two were no longer talking.

Surely you should have been fine staying at home enjoying the comfort of your bed but instead you were in the bakery.

Quinn watched you start your dream as you bought the bakery but he never got to watch you fully live out the dream as you two broke up before it opened.

So the cake you made was from your memories of what he liked eating at late hours of the night in your apartment.

Bowls of different icing flavours were in a line “why can’t I try it yet? Quinn complained watching your hand swat his away “because I’m not ready so you need to wait.” You explained in a duh tone.

Over the last week you had been building a menu that had each of your favourite flavours that you had made throughout the years, as well as some new ones and those were what he was meant to try.

Quinn let out a huff causing you to smile “shut your eyes.” You brought your spoon into one of the bowls as the boy listened to you.

His eyes screwed shut as his mouth hung open “let me know what you think of when you taste this.” The spoon dropped a bit of icing onto his tongue causing him to close his mouth.

The sweet flavours melted into his tongue as he moved his arms getting excited “that was delicious.” Quinn announced as he opened his eyes to look at you again.

It made you laugh “that isn’t a flavour,” you shook your head as you sent him a look waiting for an answer “give me a hint baby.” The hockey player pouted as he reached over the counter to bring you to him.

His hands wrapped around your waist as you stood between his legs “it’s this one.” You brought the bowl to his nose but he still couldn’t get it “it’s my take on cream cheese-” the gasp Quinn let out made him sound like a child who just learnt Santa wasn’t real.

You smiled shaking your head “it was cheese!” The American grabbed a spoon again so that he could taste it again.

It was clear that the dials in his brain were turning as he came to terms with it “you make cheese good.” His words made you laugh “you give me too much credit.” You corrected him placing the bowl back on the table.

Quinn brought his hands from your waist to your jaw “don’t think I give you enough at all.” He mumbled running his hand over that bone as you leaned down to kiss him.

Both of you got sucked into it as the world felt like it stopped around you.

But it didn’t and the smoke alarm started going off “shit!” You groaned quickly pulling away from him.

As you whipped your icing you smiled remembering that night in the apartment that you now moved out of with the extra cash you had been making you were able to use to get more space.

It was another reminder of a milestone that Quinn missed yet still it wasn’t out of his own choice.

Part of you should have felt sorry for his neighbours as you two argued for what felt like the twentieth day in a row.

Your hand raked through your messy hair as you tried to remain calm “maybe I should go.” You shrugged avoiding Quinn’s irritated scoff “you always leave when things get fucking tough y/n!” He complained totally unaware of how much smaller you got in that moment.

If you chewed at your cheek any harder you would have drawn blood “look Quinn I love you.” You blurted out as you dug your nails into your palm “but this isn’t working anymore.” The hockey player was your world, that’s what happens when you date someone for three years.

But the reality that the arguments were now outweighing the normal conversations that you two had was weighing on you and the t was no longer at a point where you could act like it wasn’t around anymore “what are you trying to say?” The American knew what you were trying to say but he prayed that this was one time that he was so wrong.

Tears formed in your eyes “this is goodbye Q,” you frowned walking over to him as you pressed your lips against his cheek.

Before Quinn could process that you had left him the door to his apartment shut with a slam.

You were gone.

The final touches always scared you the most. It was like the moments when you screwed here were the ones where you wanted to cry.

Which was why you did a happy dance as Quinn’s birthday message was written out perfectly “perfect!” You smiled placing the piping bag on the table.

Below you sat absolute cake of his dreams, the red velvet cake and cream cheese frosting were complimented by the blue, green and white icing colours that you used.

The gold edible topper balls were for how you saw Quinn. Your shining star that could guide you anywhere.

If you had to find Quinn as a cake you would be looking right at it.

The boy grew impatient as he watched you work “this is an art Quinn.” You explained joy giving him the chance to complain “you put too much pressure on yourself.” You had been tasked with making a cake for Luke’s birthday and you weren’t going to screw this up.

You sent him a look trying to tell him to shut up “I’m trying to make this perfect.” You spoke in a duh tone as you were working on making the icing the perfect shade of red “you could give Luke cake batter and he’d love you.” Quinn’s voice made you laugh as you shook your head.

Luke was definitely the easiest man to impress.

You prayed that Quinn still lived in the same apartment that he was in before the summer. Fears that someone new occupied his home were greater than the ones you held about the ideas of him moving on.

As the sun had barely came over Vancouver you were just grateful that the doorman of the building recognised you because you would have been waiting for hours without him.

It was quiet in the building though as once you stepped into the elevator you hadn’t seen another person. Which is why you thought you were successful in getting to Quinn’s front door unnoticed.

But of course the universe wasn’t going to make your life that straight forward so as you placed the box on his doormat a laugh let you know that you were no longer alone.

Quinn leaned against the wall as he pulled his headphones out of his ears “you’re up early.” He smirked remembering how he could never get you out of bed early.

His bed was warm, and that was your excuse “Quinn!” You groaned reaching out to feel him no longer there “yeah baby?” He smiled seeing your eyes barely open.

Your pout was clear “come back to bed.” You tapped his side of the mattress “I’ve got to get to the rink.” The hockey player sat on your bed next to you as you let your head rest on your pillow once more.

He watched as your breathing slowed once more signalling that you were asleep “I’ll see you soon love.” The boy leaned over to press a kiss to your temple before he quietly tucked you into the duvet letting you bask in the comfort of his beds warmth.

You awkwardly picked the box up “I came to drop this off for you.” You explained turning to show him what you were holding.

Being a hockey player a cake wasn’t something you got in the middle of the season “thank you y/n.” He smiled seeing your cheeks turn red “I should get going.” You sucked at your teeth as you sent him a nod trying to move past him.

Quinn knew that he couldn’t let you leave again “wait,” the hockey player sighed feeling his shoulders grow lighter.

Your nod made him smile “you want to come inside?” Quinn’s offer made him feel nervous as you stayed quiet “I won’t be able to eat this cake by myself and if I get Brock over I won’t get any-” he began to ramble before you cut him off.

The giggle you let out made him go quiet “you know I’ll never say no to cake.” Your confession made him nod as he opened his door “it’s about time we caught up.” The door shut behind you both but this time it wasn’t the end of a chapter.

No this was the start of your second chance, the redo if you will. And this time you two were going to make sure that you didn’t screw it up.

This time was going to count.

#quinn hughes oneshot #Quinn Hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #amber writes fics

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lovely-lying-loveable-liar · 5 months

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Welcome back queeeeen 💞 could you please bless us with pussy drunk Hasan ? I think I might just die at the thought alone 😭

Cave man brain is going wiiiiild

He knows one word

ONE SINGULAR WORD

And it's your name

A little backstory-

You guys got invited to a gala!

Well done, congratulations, nice job <3

QT decided to organize the gala for December during the holidays and obviously she invited you and Hasan!

Hasan took one look at your outfit and immediately knew what to choose

I know, I know! It's casual for a gala, but stay with me here!

You, being the multi-talented DIVINE CREATURE you are, you made your own dress and undies so he thought it was only right to under-dress.

As the night went on, he became more and more aware of your outfit.

He knew what Ted meant when he came over to compliment your outfit

He knew what Ludwig meant when he made a "soft, giant bf + confident, short gf" joke

He *absolutely* knew what Schlatt meant when he made a comment about knowing exactly what you and Hasan were gonna get up to later on.

And he'd be right! But oh, so wrong at the exact same time.

Ludwig made people get in on a bet about it! Guys *and* girls would place their money into a cup and would flirt with, wink at, touch, hug, dance with, talk to, laugh with, compliment you all in the collective effort to rile Hasan up enough to see what he'd do!

To be honest, you should be thankful! They're trynna get you dicked down!

So when Hasan went around to everyone and bid them each a goodnight, they all held knowing smirks on their faces.

Schlatt almost blew it all when he playfully smacked your ass as you and Hasan left. Ludwig called him out on it and expected Hasan to either get physical or shout at Schlatt, but he didn't! He just stared bee-line at your ass. But you didn't know that. You didn't need to know that.

You also didn't need to know that literally five minutes prior, he took a picture of your ass, BOLDFACED!!!

QT also almost blew it by texting you "Have a good night!" with one too many winky faces (One. She sent one.) but you chalked it up to her being tipsy and misclicking

When you got home, you stepped through the door first and placed your bag down on the kitchen table but you noticed Hasan wasn't behind you.

By now, he would've kicked his shoes off and taken his coat off but it didn't garner *this* amount of time to do so.

So, you went back to the door and found said man on his knees, looking- almost defeated?

"What's wrong, bubba?"

"If you say one more word to me that isn't while you're sat on my face, I think I might go on a murderous rampage."

When a smile cracked onto your face, he stood immediately and pushed you towards the stairs, pushing you up them as you giggled.

"Hold on! Give me a moment! I'm gonna trip!" you squealed, and he soon managed to get you all the way to the bedroom.

You began undoing one of the ribbons on your dress when a large hand gripped yours.

"No no no no," he muttered, tying it back up again, "the dress stays on."

And that's how you found yourself here!

It's been your third hour sat on his face.

You've cum at least four times, he's almost suffocated at least eight times, and you've tried to initiate sixty-nining at least twelve times.

He's already made it clear that you're not getting up anytime soon through his VICE grip he has on your thighs.

He's fucking messy too! You're dripping down his chin, streaking down his neck and he still wants more!

He can't stop

He can't help himself

He's insatiable

And he can't even say he doesn't know why.

Your legs are SHAKING the next day.

QT, Will, and Austin all give each other "knowing" looks when they see you on the Fear& set the next day.

But they could NEVER be so so wrong.

#hasanabi x reader #hasanabi smut #hasan piker smut #hasan piker x reader

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inkdrinkerworld · 7 months

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idk if you’ve ever seen my mad fat diary but finn reminds me so much of your james that it literally makes me SICK. if you’re interested, i implore you to think about james with a chubby and insecure reader where he basically has to spell it out that he likes them and then reaffirm it with his actions (brings you flowers, sweets, invites you to watch him play rugby, asks you to hang out with your friends). idk if you can work it in but there’s a line where the main character is like “you don’t have to kiss me because you feel sorry for me” and he responds like “i’m not kissing you because i feel sorry for you?? i’m kissing you because i want to” and that with james is so ajhhhhh

I haven’t seen it!!! Cw: insecure chubby!reader, negative self talk

James likes you. He’s liked you since you first transferred to his business class to make up credits for your semester.

He’s made it clear, in his mind, that he likes you by always saving you a seat next to him, and always having flowers on your desk every Monday.

You don’t seem to get it though.

You’re both in a ‘fight’ right now, James had asked you to come to his rugby game with his friends and you had asked him why he goes out of his way to be that nice to you.

“Because I like you,” he’d scratched his head when he said it. “I thought you realized that ages ago.”

You had shaken your head, “You don’t like me James, you think you do. I’m not your type.”

James had frowned after that, insisting you were wrong and you’d scoffed and said something about your being undesirable and James had left you standing in the hallway.

You haven’t answered his apologizing texts for leaving you in the hallway and not walking you back to your dorm.

Your brain hasn’t exactly caught up with the fact that James likes you. It feels unreal. James is fit, he’s got just about every girl on campus flocking to him. Him liking you feels like a cruel joke.

Still, you get off your bed and change into his rugby sweater and a pair of jeans and head to the pitch.

You reach there when they’re warming up and you can tell James is off. His runs aren’t as perfectly timed as they should be and his throws are short.

“James was worried you wouldn’t show.” Remus whispers as he and Sirius come to sit beside you.

You chew your lip and don’t tell them that you’d been thinking about staying home.

“He really does like you doll,” Sirius says and you roll your eyes.

“For now. It’s better for us if we just stay friends. He’ll find someone better to like soon enough.”

Remus tuts, “In James’ mind, there is no one better. He’ll wait for you forever, if that’s what it takes.”

Neither of them say anything after that and you’re left with your thoughts again.

You do like James. You’ve liked James before he started bringing you those flowers every Monday. You’ve liked him before he offered to walk you to your dorm one night and just always did it after that.

He’s easy to like, you come to realise, because he does everything with purpose but also like it’s second nature. Like being near you and making sure you get home safe is something he’s always done.

The game is scrappy and James’ team win by a messy touchdown. Even after the game he’s sulking so you walk down to the pitch to greet him.

“Hi Jamie,” you’re in front of him and even behind the helmet you can tell his eyes widen. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

James takes off his helmet and sets it on the turf. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to get upset, but you can’t speak about yourself like that to me.”

He closes some of the distance between you. “Did you really mean it? Do you really like me?”

James makes a pitying sound in the back of his throat as he hears how uncertain you sound. “Since you sat next to me wearing those silly socks with the bears on them.”

His hands are on your cheeks, cupping them gently. “You’re the most beautiful, kind, gentle, amazing, thoughtful person I’ve ever met. Of course I’d like you.” He confesses and you feel the pinpricks of tears in your eyes.

“I like you too James, but what if you change your mind? What if you find someone else to like this much?”

James scoffs. “There’s no one else. Only you.” His forehead presses against yours and his eyes close.

“You’re it for me,” he says and you gasp.

“James,” he cuts you off.

“I mean it.” He pulls away for a moment. “Can I kiss you now? You’re wearing that cheery lip balm that messes with me head.”

“You don’t have to kiss me because you feel sorry for me.“

James groans, long and drawn. “Baby, you gotta get that mess outta your head. I’m not kissing you because I feel sorry for you. I’ll never kiss you because I feel sorry for you. I’m kissing you because I like you, yeah?”

James waits for your soft, ‘yeah’ and then melds your lips together.

#jamespotter #james potter #beefy!james potter #beefy!james #james potter x reader #james potter x black!reader #james potter x chubby!reader #beefy!james x chubby!reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter one shot #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter fic

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indigoflorals · 1 year

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I just had a jj x reader (kinda rafe) idea pop in my head!

Reader and JJ are somewhere and rafe walks up all cocky and basically asks jj a question or says something that he would only know by getting close with reader. (ex: “hey jj, how you like that tattoo” , “has she done that trick on you yet?”) basically revealing that the reader and rafe has slept together at some point and no one knew.

I explained it all messy but I know you can write it amazingly!!

for your eyes only (18+)

Rafe Cameron x Reader (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Sum: Your boyfriend JJ isn’t the only guy to see your brand new nipple piercings

Warnings: DUB-CON, Oral sex, cheating, hair pulling, drug use, blood, piercings

Your grad party had mostly been a blur of vodka and loud music. Your parents had gone all out, making everything perfect for you.

They were not however, a fan of your boyfriend, JJ Maybank. He hadn’t attended the party. The one stipulation so that everything be paid for in full. You hadn’t cared, really, about the party. It was the money from wealthy friends and relatives on figure eight that intrigued you.

So when you found out your mom had invited Ward Cameron and his family, you had simply, neglected to tell JJ that Rafe would be at your party that night.

“Now tell me again,” Rafe smiled, showing off bright, white teeth, “how your parents convinced you to go along with that shit?”

Rafe had stayed after the party had ended as you two got caught up in the basement.

You leaned forward on the table, taking your credit card in your hand to chop the small white powder into thin lines. “Money. Everything boils down to money.”

Leaning down, you closed off one nostril and inhaled the white dust with the other. It stung as it entered your system, and shocked your brain lightly as it hit. You shook it off easily, relaxing back into the chair.

Rafe smirked at your clear experience with the drug. “Miss perfect not so perfect anymore, then?”

You shrugged, pulling your hoodie over your head to expose your skintight tank top. “I mean I guess you could say that. I’m dating a pogue.”

Rafe’s eyes scanned your now heavily exposed body, trailing over the curve of your breasts and stomach. Your mind clouded, you locked eyes with him as you leaned down, pushing the tops of your breasts together as you did.

A quiet groan reverberated in his throat at your actions. “Yeah well I’m sure he doesn’t fuck you right.”

“He fucks me great.” You hummed, plugging your nose to take another bump. You shook yourself lightly with chills after, and Rafe watched as your nipples perked underneath the thin material of your top, piercings visible.

You blushed, a small smile creeping to your lips as you raised your hands to cover your tits. “Sorry, s’cold.”

With that, he stood. You could see the outline of his cock in his shorts. Your heart raced at the sight. You wanted him so badly and yet you didn’t. Cheating on JJ was out of the question yet at the same time you yearned for Rafe’s cock.

He brought a hand to palm himself over his pants as he stepped towards you. You were still seated, looking up to meet his gaze as you were level with his crotch.

“I cant.” You croaked out, mouth suddenly very dry. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and feel it in your pussy.

He stood in front of you, raising a hand to rub at the back of your head, fisting your hair.

Rafe’s fingers massaged your scalp, and like reflex your mouth fell open for him. With his free hand, he placed two fingers inside your mouth.

He pushed his fingers to the back of your throat, keeping you on the verge of gagging. “Suck them for me. You know how.”

Your brain snapped into action, sucking and licking the rough pads of his digits. He watched your intently, still rubbing your head.

“That’s it,” He mumbled, forcing his fingers farther into your throat, “Good girl.”

In an instant he pulled his fingers from your mouth, earning a ‘pop’ and a string of saliva.

You closed your mouth, clenching your jaw to keep yourself from moaning at the feeling of your thighs rubbing together. The friction rubbed against your clit.

He squeezed your scalp, pulling the hair roughly to get you to open your mouth again. “I promise you this is better than some pogue dick, baby.”

Removing the hand from your scalp, he leaned down, pulling the bottom of your top up to expose your breasts and nipple piercings.

“How pretty,” He smiled, thumbing at a nipple, “New?”

You frown, swatting his hand away, “Just shut up and let me suck your cock.”

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, and mild confusion. Why had you decided to sleep on the basement futon? And why was Rafe Cameron on the couch?

You jumped to your feet, throwing the blankets off and readjusting your top to cover yourself “You need to get the fuck out, now.” You hissed, shaking him.

Rafe groaned, clearly hungover, and rolled over the face you. “Fuck what time is it?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter!” You whisper yelled, “My boyfriend picks me up at noon for work. You need to be gone.”

With that, you had his attention. Rafe sat up, rubbing his eyes and wiped the drool from his mouth. “Shit I totally forgot you had a boyfriend. Maybank, huh?”

“Yes,” You growled, putting your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to force him up, “Now go!”

“Fine.” Rafe stood, brushing himself off and grabbing his phone. He attempted to turn it on only to see it was dead. “Fuck. You’re really gonna stay with him?”

You placed your hands on his back, not replying to his question. With one hard shove he started walking.

After Rafe was gone you got ready for work. JJ picked you up as normal and you both headed to the country club.

You were closing bartender, and the night had gone mostly smoothly until your boyfriend came up to rant.

“You know,” The blond handed you back a drink glass, “I hate serving when Rafe and his friends are here.”

Your heart sank to your feet, and you squeezed the glass so hard it broke in your hands. Blood ran from your wounds onto the glass pieces. “Shit.”

“Woah!” JJ walked behind the bar, putting his hands on your hips to step you away from the glass on the floor. “Alright baby let’s go get you cleaned up.”

As you walked beside your boyfriend, you saw Rafe out of the corner of your eye, smiling.

“Hey Maybank!” He called, shaking his glass, “More water?”

JJ lifted your hand to show the blood, “Little busy right now, Rafe.”

You breathed a sigh of relief at his silence, and followed JJ to the first aid kid. He bandaged your hands gently, cleaning every wound.

“You gotta be more careful, baby.” He lifted your bandaged hand to kiss it, “What would I do without you?”

You have a weak smile, turning on your heal to head back for the bar. JJ followed behind.

As you passed Rafe’s table, you held your breath.

“Maybank,”

You paused.

“How do you like the new piercings?”

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drenched-in-sunlight · 8 months

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hello hi!!! grfhvhghr i am in love with your artwork so much you cant believe-- i wanna ask if you have any tips on how you lineart and colourpick?? no pressure to answer tho, have a great day/night!! again, love your art <33

hi!! thank you for your kind words!! since i got asked about these a lot, im answering this for all the other ask asking about lineart and colour tips too! You can see some previous post here.

also i could only give out tips that work for my drawing style - which is heavy lineart / colours pop up the line (believe it or not it's American comic book style. ppl cant understand why my art doesnt really look like usual anime/ Asian webtoon style, even though it is still clearly anime / Asian webtoon style, but when i told them it's because im drawing these by studying American comics, no one believes it either lmao.

i do study but i do my own things too, so most of my art inspo is really unexpected to ppl, but they r really where i learn things from, cuz i dont even go to art school TT_TT).

Changing the brush size will help you achieve thick/thin lines better without having to put pressure on your wrists. Keep your hold relaxed and let bigger brush size give you the thick strokes.

I like messy sketch, to me the sketch is just an outline shape to fill details in when i do the line, it also gives more freedom to wriggle as i draw! cuz i dont really plan out everything from the start, just wing it as i go, so a lot of my work is actually very spontaneous.

that leads to this point: when you do the lineart you should start deciding which colour style you want from it to adjust the details amount. the ink shadow blocks in my art aren't there randomly, i adjust them to best complement the shape language and colours.

for piece where i want the line/shadow to...idk hit (?), the colours are almost flat with textured brush adding depth to them, so the inking is the shading, thus there are more details in the lineart / ink blocks.

for the video above and piece like this where i want the colours to be clear and pop out, the use of ink blocks are minimized and i do the shading during colouring process. but! the ink blocks can still make some places pop very nicely! just use in moderation!

when doing the base it's good to keep the colour on the left side of the colour wheel (low saturation), but as you do shading and lighting, try to spread out evenly so it won't look washed out.

toggle around with hue and saturation slider as you go! the key is always adjusting! you're making hundreds of decisions at once, being conscious of your choice in why a line or a colour should be in a certain way will help improve your process a lot! (i think you can tell which art i turned off my brain and just draw for stress relief ........ which is also a valid way to draw and sometimes the result might surprise you! but for more serious stuffs i try to be aware of most of the move i make. it's problem solving, yeah?)

i find that one way to keep your art from appearing too...yellow in the end (which is sth that haunted my ass for a long while) is always aim for cold tone, so if you accidentally make it warm either way in the end it won't be too warm (and yellow :cry:)

well that's all the stuffs i can think on top of my head. sorry i can't give more advice on colour picking cuz it's sth i don't really know how to give advice on???? i think my colours now are still pretty lame haha........ if there are still any questions i'd gladly answer within my ability, though im very slow to answer ask ( i do read and be happy at all of them tho!)

#art tip #ask #anon #albi’s art #ALSO I AM SERIOUS ABOUT THE BRUSH SIZE THING SAVE YOUR WRISTS NOW. TODAY. DONT LET IT HURT THEN TRY TO FIX IT LATER #aughhhhhhhhh *rub my wrists*

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miracledarling · 1 year

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how i clear "doubts"

before continuing, remember that u make ur own rules and i share what works for me. its all based on ur assumptions so do what works for u ❤️‍🩹

[ very messy unorganized post, bear with me ]

so as someone who doesn't believe things that easily, and a lot of times thinks logically, i found ways to help myself manifest and deal with negative thoughts.

first off, remember that these thoughts have no power. ZERO. they're just random thoughts so i wouldn't even call the doubts. just random thoughts that are less true than hot pink turtles crawling around ur bathroom ceiling(unless thats actually something true for u sorry lol). but what i'm saying is, don't give the thoughts power. this will help u stop wavering and persist without feeling as stressful. dont identify with these dumb untrue thoughts alright?

oh no !! i got a dOuBt. what do i do? 🥺

i take some deep breaths first. i acknowledge that i dont have to think PoSiTiVeLy all the time. this aint law of attraction. its not about forcing positively and be happy for high vibrations or whatever bullshit. nope. it's about assumptions right? its law of assumption.

with that in mind, i realize oh, so whatever i assume will come true.

so first, i assume those dumb thoughts aint matter anymore. they are just a bunch of bullshit that is not true. i tell myself that only my good thoughts would matter anyway, so give me all the doubts u want and i dont give a fuck.

its like when an annoying kid goes and bugs u. if u respond back they keep bugging u but if u ignore, they get bored and are like oh well whatever. so ur logical brain will be like: well the thoughts im telling her seem to be false. i guess im wrong im gonna stop annoying her.

and whenever u get those thoughts, its gonna be harder to give in and waver. its easier to persist now.

but...what if u cant believe it? if ur logical brain says: "well hell no. i dont believe u got big lips. i dont have proof, its against what i know."

instead of getting all worried like "oh no i wouldnt believe, will it not manifest?" i calm down and say "yeah just dumb thoughts again. they have no power so i dont care." I also say: "well believe it or not, my lips are big af. i know i might not believe it now, but there's nothing to deny that my lips are clearly big. so it doesnt matter what im believing. i have what i want regardless" this statement implies that whatever im believing or thinking, i still have my results. its done.

the statement i often now repeat when i get doubtful is: "well believe it or not, i clearly have [insert desire] and it's sooo obvious" or something along those lines

or "believe it or not its a fact that i have [desire] and i cant even prove it wrong."

i tell it to myself until i calm down to prevent myself from wavering.

my logical brain gives up and has no choice bc even if it wont believe me, it cant do anything about it because im speaking facts and the fact is that i got my desires

the bottom line: doing all of this ultimately does one important thing-it creates an assumption. specifically, i create an assumption that my "doubts" dont matter. and even if i think they matter they wont. even if im in complete disbelief that i dont have what i want, i still have what i want. there is zero other choice except to have what i want. no need for evidence or perfect thoughts.

i also acknowledge the fact that i wont fully believe or think in the perfect way and it's completely fine. because of the assumption i have created, even if i think shitty thoughts, i will still manifest what i want.

another thing about assumptions: they dont need evidence. like you can assume u have a white tshirt in ur closet even tho u didnt look in there.

for this case, this assumption i made eliminates every other option except to have my desire. no matter how much the logical mind tries, because i created this assumption, i can think whatever i want, have the most doubts and logic ever, and still manifest.

so keep persisting and you'll manifest ur desires without even realizing 💙

#law of assumption #loa #loassumption #manifesting #manifesation #self concept #neville goddard #affirmations #void state #affirm and persist #10k affirmations #doubts #manifesting tips #affirmyourreality #loa blog #loablr

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berryzxx · 2 months

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Your the only one for me (part 2)

Summary: You find something suspicious on Grayson's phone and confront him about it. During your argument you get seriously injured. Is it all a misunderstanding or is he just using you?

Grayson Hawthorne x reader

Part 1

I opened my eyes, the slight pressure that was closing them before finally gone although my head still hurt. The lights were dimmed, a soft yellow lamp illuminating the room. It was a hospital room I deducted even though it was quiet a cosy one without the white sterile walls and uncomfortable beds. I tried to move my hair to the side and out of my face when I realised my right arm was in a white cast. Oh my god. How had I broken my arm?

As soon as my brain started functioning properly I realised my back was begging to be cracked after who knows how long I had laid there. I shifted myself up slightly and tried to crack my back. I twisted left and right but nothing much happened except my body starting to ache even more. I cleared my throat hoping someone would hear and come in.

I moved slightly higher on the bed so I was sitting up and coughed a little so someone would hear me. Still no one.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I asked. It sounded a little weird talking to any empty room but I wanted answers. And probably a familiar face. I waited for another second and when i opened my mouth again the door opened, Grayson walking in, his hair messy for the first time in ages and wearing a simple white shirt and joggers.

"Your awake. I thought I was hearing things when I heard your voice..." He moved closer to me and sat at the edge of my bed hesitantly.

I gave him a small smile and wondered why he wasn't already laying down next to me "I'm injured. Come and provide some comfort to me at least" I said gesturing to my broken arm. He didn't move for a moment as if waiting for me to change my words. I didn't obviously. He moved so he was now laying next to me as I rested my head on his chest, his hand running through my hair.

"How do you feel? Are you hungry? Do you need some water?" His voice was full of concern. I shook my head "No. How did I break my arm?" I asked, wanting answers.

His hand froze slightly but then he carried on moving it through my hair, relaxing me even more. "You don't remember?" He asked quietly as if it were important I should.

I shrugged slightly "I just remember falling. Did I trip?" My memory was slightly hazy and I only remembered bits and pieces.

Grayson let out a sigh and sat up, moving away from me "You didn't trip"

I raised an eyebrow, slightly confused "So what happened then?"

His grey eyes roved over me, his eyes searching my face for something. "You fell...because of me"

I frowned, even more confused and slightly shocked "what?". He slowly nodded his head as if it pained him to do so "We were arguing and I...I tried to stop you but you fell. If it weren't for me you wouldn't have been hurt"

I continued looking at him. My memory slowly starting to come back to me. I don't know why but tears had started pricking at my eyes. Maybe it was because I couldn't see Grayson looking so upset and heartbroken.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I'm sorry you were hurt because of me. I don't deserve you" I shook my head as soon as he said the last line "I decide what I deserve"

I swallowed back the tears "What were we arguing about?" I waited, holding my breath. Hoping it was all a misunderstanding.

"About a message between me and a girl at the photography exhibit. You...jumped to conclusions but it's nothing like what you think it is" He had to force the words out, his hands running through his hair as if what he were about to say would ruin things between us. Maybe it would.

"Show me the message"

He faltered slightly "Darling I-"

"Show me" I didn't remember what it was about but I needed to know what this damned message was. He took out his phone and showed me the message

I had so much fun yesterday. We should definitely do it again.😏

Memories came flooding back to me. Of when I had read the message. When I had stormed off, tears cascading down. And when I had packed my things only to fall and break my arm. I looked at the message clenching and unclenching my jaw. Tears making my vision blurry.

"Don't cry. I'm not worth it" Grayson said quietly, not daring to move closer to me.

"Is this true? Did you....have you cheated on me?" I spat the words out my mouth full of the taste of betrayal and disgust.

He quickly shook his head "Why would I? I don't know why she sent it. I would never break your trust like that y/n" He moved closer, desperation evident in his eyes. His hand reached for mine "I would never cheat on you my love." I wanted to believe him. I really did. But I had, had my heart broken in the past and I didn't want it to happen this time either.

"Block her" I gave him the phone and he did. He shook his head a tear falling down. It made my heart break into pieces. "Don't cry. I'm not worth it" I repeated his words, as if maybe everything would be alright. I don't think it would.

"Your worth a thousand of me y/n. Your worth more than anything. I would fucking burn everything in this world for you" His eyes held mine, his hand clasping mine tightly.

"I love you Gray. I really do...but I. I need a break. I need to think things through" It took all my will power to get all that out and i don't think it was worth it because the pain on his face was heart breaking.

"Are you breaking up with me?" His voice was hoarse and he had dropped my hand. I slowly nodded my head "I need to think through things. This doesn't mean we can't get back together"

He shook his head as if in denial "How will I live without you?"

"I'm sorry"

He took a deep breath. And then another. He stood up and tried to give me a smile but it didn't reach his eyes "Take your time to...process. Just know that I'll never stop loving you. Your the only one for me..." He looked at me, taking in my appearance one last time before leaving the room. I finally let it all out once the door slammed shut, sobs wracking my body as the one person I loved truly left me. And it was all my fault.

SOPHIE'S POV

I looked down at my phone and scrolled through my messages when I noticed Grayson hadn't replied to mine. I clicked on it and cursed under my breath. Shit. I had sent the wrong emoji. Instead of a smiley face I had sent an extremely sexually insinuating one. It said that he had read the message so there was no point deleting it. Instead I typed out another message

Sorry, that was the wrong emoji. Didn't mean to creep you out. Would love to discuss some more photography lessons for the future

The message had sent but an automated reply was sent back instead. It read that I had been blocked. Oh. He wouldn't receive my message then. I just hoped nothing had happened because of my typo.

note: Um YEAH. sorry about that yall. I love Grayson but ummm I had to 😭 i hate the miscommunication trope but here I AM WRITING IT. Hope yall survived

tags: @starxshining @reminiscentreader @thelov3lybookworm

#berryfics #no happy ending #grayson x y/n #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne fluff #the inheritance games #grayson x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader angst #grayson the loml

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strawbbella · 1 year

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Helloo~ I was bored in class one day so I thought "why not do an art study of the artists I like" except it incredibly scuffed and I really just looked at a bunch of art on their page and i tried my best to replicate one of em

So these are the 2 'studies' i did that day

1st:

My ver:

(Art by @izuke-the-zombie )

ref pic:

What I noticed first while sketching is ofc the super gorgeous cute style. Though not long into the sketching phase noticed her lines are quite sharp and pronouced, for most of her works she keeps her sketch lines making it seem more mmm hazy is the right word? Or effortless, but with every sharp line a rounded(?) line contrasts it, giving it that signature fluffiness. I absolutely adore how well this all mixes together, i dunno just sonethin bout her lines bro

I love the expression, really gives off absolutely love sick, I didn't capture the eyes quite well (I blame my chonk pen because all good artists blames their materials/j) Macaque looks more scared than breath taken and I put the eyes too far apart. I basically deprived the eyes of its soul lmao note for next time I do a study.

Ok this part has not much to do with the ref pic but her art in general and that includes her writing. I adore the cute HCs and little stories/AUs she would post, just so much creativity and its always so comforting to read as theyre so wholesome and cute. Im so sure one of my first posts here were a drawing of one of her HCs LIKE SRSLY SO CREATIVE. I was also surprised as I saw in some artworks she's able to draw structures and environments that draws your into the scene, its fits the universe so well, just adding to that little wonderment of awe. Shes amazing at coloring too, real soft, but still makes the characters pop, i'd say more but my brain is short-circuiting from all this analyzing. Shes just all round incredibly talented and creative honestly. Her style is exactly what i wanted to have as a kid and what im striving to have now. So cuteee

So far 11/10 art style, love the chibiness, cuteness, expressions, the pure and pastel feel and colors, and details. Just love her in general<3 check out her page lol

2nd:

My ver:

(Art by @clatteringbats )

ref pic:

Ok so immediately off the bat I knew I was gonna have some trouble here since I've been drawing chibis from the very start.

Just from observing her art I alr saw it has a lot of movement in em, lots of dynamic poses, and LOTS of embraces, really just pouring with that fluff/angst energy. At first I tried the anime body guidelines and boom instant error. Though not all that noticable the heads have sum chonk in em, especially the cheeks, giving that cute factor despite not being a chibi style. Im all for it. The lines are very soft, not a lot of sharp edges and if there are theyre placed in a very subtle way. The expressions are wonderful: from a subtle hopeless smile from an overwhelming roar of grief and anger, she's mastered the the art of slight details that give these effects their magic. Her lines are sketchy but not messy (does that make sense) they clump together neatly, giving the illustration clarity.

AND OMG HAVE YOU SEEN HER ANIMATICS? THE MOVEMENT, THE PACING, THE SMOOTHNESS, THE INTERACTIONS, THE EMOTIONS, THE EVERYTHING. THEYRE SO AAAA ITS LIKE A PROFESSIONAL STORYBOARD FOR A TV SHOW.

The way she uses color too— just o h m y g o d .

Her colors are so bright and clear, so nicely blended together, so bold, but not in the way that burns your eyes, she keeps them neutral in a way, that envokes that sense of harmony; like a sunset. (I legit have one of her colored artworks as my wallpaper) I have lots more to observe, but so far this is all I have to say. The skill of overflowing

Anways, back to the task at hand. I made the heads bigger than i shoulda , cause well chibi artist ehe. Again, I blame my chonk pencil. I didn't get the embrace quite right, but Ion think I could level with the queen of LITERALLY DRAWING TEARJERKING HUGS LIKE? I tried with the hands, I swear. I knew they were a little small but only now am I realizing its that way cause I made the heads too big. I wanna try drawing more in her style as its really just full of movement and flowiness, I wanna try mastering the way she draws perspectives too. I noticed for perspective shots theres this grid for the sky and ground (which is genius) will try that out when I actually pick up digital art again.

Check out her page, theres lots to see shes amazing 11/10 artstyle<3

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lahazywriter · 9 months

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Meet and Greet (Reboot Wally x reader)

Inspired heavily by the TikTok made by @bloodrediscream. Love your work!!!

The convention center was vibrant as ever. People in costumes, food stalls, art booths and even meet and greets. My eyes got lost in all the banners advertising the meet ups for different celebrities, artists, and creators, while my smile grew wider as I recognized a few names that I didn't see last time I checked the schedules. I felt an aggressive pull on my hand dragging me back to reality. My smile faded as I saw the annoyed look on his face.

If he's going to have an attitude all day why did he join me. I fought back the urge to roll my eyes and continued forward. "This is amazing! So many of my favorite creators are here!" I looked up at my boyfriend hoping to rub off some of my excitement on him.

He just looked down at me and shrugged, his face remaining annoyed. I released a heavy sigh and pulled my hand away from his. "I think I'm going to explore on my own. We can meet back up in a couple hours," I held up my phone while walking away. "Just text me, when you're ready."

I spent the next hour perusing the aisles of all the different booths. There were so many ideas in one spot it would take me the entire week to go through everything. Even with that much time I still have doubts that I'd get through all of it. I felt a vibration in my pocket and took out my phone. I had 3 missed calls and 17 messages. I didn't hold back the eye roll and set my phone to 'Do Not Disturb' after sending a message of where I was.

The crowd for this Meet and Greet was insane. There were girls screaming, some crying, all were hourding the lines to the booth. My curiosity got the best of me as I joined the line wanting to see what all this commotion was about.

To my surprise the line was moving smoothly. It didn't take long until I could read the banner that said Welcome Home, each letter having it's own color. The name sounded familiar, I remember reading about a reboot of it happening a little while back. I recalled babysitting for my boyfriend's siblings and how they'd beg for me to put this show on. I racked my brain to remember any specific episode but nothing was coming to mind.

"NEXT" the loud voice shook me to my core. My thought bubble was abruptly popped as I stumbled to move forward. I looked at the security guard as he ushered me to go past the velvet rope he had undone. I felt panic erupt inside me. When did I get to the front? Who am I even meeting? I don't have anything for them to sign.

I tried to calm myself down with deep breathes as I moved closer to the table. My calming methods were immediately ruined as I looked at the man at the booth. I felt blush warm up my cheeks. He was devishly handsome, I couldn't blame the girls I saw earlier. He had messy blue hair, that had been done up in an old hair style. His rsmile was sweet but his eyes…those are a different story. For some reason I felt as if he was looking directly through me, reading my thoughts, trying to uncover my soul. It sent a cold shiver down my spine.

I laughed off my nervousness and tried to avoid his eyes. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Hello neighbor! Thank you for coming to the meet and greet! Do you have something for me to sign?" He sounded tired. His delivery was perfect almost as if he just started the day and his energy was at it's peak, but I could feel the exhaustion behind it.

"You look tired."

"Excuse me?"

My eyes widen at my mistake, I felt my face flush and grow warm. I wanted to rip out my voice box and stomp on it so I could never speak again. Instead the word vomit began.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking and a thought slipped through. You look wonderful, not exhausted. Very handsome. Just great, perfection even. Oh you have pictures, can I have one?" I picked one of the photos off the table, and handed it to him. He signed it quickly before giving me a smile bright enough to grow flowers. "I hope your day is going well…Wally."

He chuckled before responding. "Of course it is, I get to meet all my wonderful supporters and fans." He held out his hand for me to shake and I did so.

"Well, to be honest. I've never actually watched your show."

"Oh?" Wally stopped moving his hand and looked at me with confusion. I felt my hands start to get clammy. I tried to gently pull my hand away but Wally held it firmly.

"B-but I am definitely a fan and will be binge watching it as soon as I get home. Thank you for time!" I finished shaking his hand and waved before leaving the booth. I wanted to die from embarrassment. Why did I even go up there? I've never even sat down and watched his show in it's entiretity. I ran a hand through my hair to calm my never ending thoughts. I looked at the picture of himself that he signed.

"Show me your smile" - Wally Darling

His signature was perfection, I wouldn't believe he didn't just copy and paste it 1000 times over if I didn't see him sign it right in front of me. Did I smile at all when I went up there or did I just stand there like a fool? Wait. Why did I care? I have a boyfriend. Oh shit I have a boyfriend. I pulled out my phone, over 30 missed calls. I immediately called him back. He picked up on the first ring, and started yelling at me through the speakers, why didn't I answer him, why was I ignoring him, blah blah blah. I held my heavy sigh back and told him where I was. He responded by hanging up the phone. I looked at the ended call for moment before putting it back in my pocket, I guess that means he was coming to me.

There was more fangirling happening, as a bunch of girls started forming a circle around who I can only assume to be Wally. I looked over there and he appeared to be singing and dancing to Shakira. I almost burst out into laughter, at how good it was. Guess there's a pretty good reason why he's on television. It was a cute sight. I sighed and looked at my autographed photo again. Wally Darling. Show you my smile? I looked up from my picture to see where he had gone, and found him in the middle of a crowd. I looked at the picture again before looking back up. To my surprise, he was already looking at me. His eyes were half lidded and as piercing as ever. The cold shiver came back as he looked at me. At least I thought he was. Without realising I followed the command on my autograph and gave him a smile, or his general direction at least.

I shook my head at my delusions and began to walk away to find my boyfriend. At least I can say I met THE Wally Darling. I see my boyfriend hanging around the booth selling drinks when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around and see Mr. Darling himself standing before me. I gave him a wave and a confused look.

"Uh hi? Did your meet and greet end?"

"No, but I forgot to add something to your autograph. Couldn't let you get away without it."

"Oh. I didn't realise." I handed him back the photo trying not to linger on the idea of our fingers brushing against each other. I watch as he quickly scribbles something in one of the corners. He doesn't hand the photo back and instead he gives me a sly grin.

"So are you single? Did you come here by yourself?" He looks at me with those same piercing eyes. I wanted to say yes really badly. Which is awful. I mentally slapped myself to restart my thinking process. It took me a moment to answer but by the time I could string together a sentence, my boyfriend had already found me. He put a hand on my shoulder and tried to look as intimidating as possible. I rolled my eyes and shrugged his hand off my shoulder. I looked at Wally with an apologetic smile.

"No, I'm not."

Wally didn't respond, his gaze was on my boyfriend. It felt sinister like he was trying to kill him with a look. I mentally laughed at the idea. I'm just overthinking things. I nudged my boyfriend in the side, so he would stop this dick sizing contest. Wally finally tore his gaze from my boyfriend and looked at me with a smile. He handed me my photo, it had one of the corners folded in. He gave me a quick wink before turning on his heel and heading back to his booth. I turned around and noticed my boyfriend had went back to the drinking booth. I started to walk over to him, and unfolded the corner of my autograph. My internal thermometer broke as I saw the 10 digit number followed by xo. I folded the entire photo and put it into my pocket.

"That was some meet and greet."

#welcome home #wally darling #reboot wally #i did this instead of sleeping #x reader #female reader

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godlessandwrecked · 2 years

Text

good bad luck | p. parker

the black cat — a master burglar who has come swinging into peter’s life like a fist, to snap him out of it with witty comments and breath-taking punches. even when he thinks he hates her, he absolutely adores her, and unfortunately for him, he’s failed to realize he’s falling until he’s inches off the ground…

PAIRING: peter parker (mcu) x blackcat! fem reader

WORD COUNT: 6k

CONTENTS: post nwh, peter’s pov, pining and blushy messy peter, some suggestive stuff but mostly sfw, a lot of cute banter and a heist? also, i mention the cat has white hair like once, but she’s completely self-insertable, just like the rest of my fics!

A/N: tried to be as loyal to the black cat as I could because I adore her in the comics, but I totally made her my own here for the sake of having a version that would make sense with a younger Peter :) first time writing for Tom’s Peter and I’m: scared. ok enjoy <3

Peter’s number one, most hated, vilest enemy he’s fighting nowadays is… biochemistry. And he’s losing, by a lot. Not because he doesn't possess the capabilities to defeat said enemy, but because New York City doesn’t give him a damn rest, and he’s exhausted.

In the few months he’s been in college, to no one’s surprise, he’s already managed to be late on a pile of assignments. He doesn’t have the time to work on them, and even when he does and sits down to get on with it, it’s like his brain won’t stop running.

It should be easy for him—he’s good at it and he’s passionate about it, after all—but he can’t focus on the task at hand. His brain keeps shifting back to the city, to the rooftops, to the people who need his help, to her, and suddenly his cheeks start heating up and he’s back to thinking of how good it would feel to swing around the city, with the sun behind him and the wind whizzing by, clearing his mind of everything.

Peter huffs, clicking the delete key on his run-down laptop until the two lines he’s managed to write in the last half an hour disappear from the document, leaving it blank once more. His suit stares back at him from the other side of the room, laying on a chair, the goggles on his mask ogling at him, as if begging him to please put it on and take it out for a stroll.

For a few seconds he thinks he’s actually going to give in, but then he shakes his head, reprimanding himself and murmuring a No. No, Peter. No. He can’t keep avoiding his responsibilities, he needs to get the assignment done. College is far too expensive for him to throw it all away just to swing around like a monkey. He’ll have plenty of time to do that later.

He accommodates back on his chair, cracks his knuckles, and is about to begin typing away when–

Tap tap tap.

His head shoots to his right, facing the window where the sound has come from, to be met with nothing but that—the window. Chastising himself for getting distracted once more, he returns to his work, thinking it must have been the wind, or a knocking next-door.

But as soon as he looks away, there it is again, tap tap tap on the glass.

He turns on his chair once more, expecting nothing again, but gives a little jump at what he sees, surprisingly startled.

A head hangs upside down from the top of his window, wide eyes staring at him through even bigger spectacles, hair the color of snow flowing in the breeze.

He furrows, “Again?”

She waves happily, still upside down, and points at the lock on the window, asking him to let her in. She could bust it open easily—she is the best cat burglar ever, after all—but she doesn’t want to get him in trouble with his landlord. Not again.

“What are you doing?” he asks, slightly annoyed as she jumps over the windowsill and into his one-room apartment.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” she asks with that playfulness that comes naturally to her, even in the worst of situations.

“I told you not to come around here, Cat. Someone could see you.”

“So what? No one’s gonna think you,” a sharp fingernail pokes at his chest, “Of all people, are Spider-Man.”

“Wow, thank you. A lot. That’s really kind.”

“I’m joking, Spider. Who’s gonna see me hanging out of your window on a 4th story, anyway?”

“My neighbors? I don’t know. Don’t do it again.”

“Relax, Spider-Boy. I won’t,” she rolls her eyes, and he knows reprimanding her is of no use. She’ll do it again whenever she pleases.

Peter’s eyes follow her as she moves around his apartment comfortably, opening up cabinets in search of food, running her fingers over the notes on biophysical chemistry on his kitchen counter, straightening up items here and there. He watches with narrow eyes as she finds a pack of cookies and pops one into her mouth, sitting down on his bed.

How has this become his life? Two months ago they were kicking each other’s asses out in the cold, and now she’s laying on his pillow. He’s not sure if he likes it or it unnerves him, how naturally it comes to her to invade his personal space.

“What are you up to? Wanna go out for a stroll?” she asks, still chewing.

“No. I’m doing school work.”

“Okay.”

They sit in silence while he waits for her to get the hint and leave, but she doesn’t, just stares at him. So he stares back, blinking awkwardly, arms crossed, and then cocks his head toward the window.

“Oh, you want me to leave?” she realizes.

“Well, yeah, I have things to do.”

“I’ll be really quiet,” she shakes her head, a grin on her face. “You won’t even notice I’m here.”

Sure.

He’s probably going to regret this, but how can he tell her no? She’s not going to leave either way, and the more he presses, the more she’ll do the exact opposite. He knows her well by now.

For a few minutes, as he stares at the blinking cursor on his screen, he actually believes he’s going to get some work done, but he can hear the tapping of her fingers on the leather of her suit, the steady up and down of her breathing, and if he concentrates hard enough, even the fluttering of her lashes. It’s driving him nuts.

His brain is foggy, and he’s itching for that freedom only the free-falling can provide him with. And he’s thinking of last week, when they played tag over Queens, swinging and chasing each other around narrow alleys and crowded streets. It’s just what he needs, exactly what the doctor ordered.

Peter gets up from his chair abruptly, closing his laptop and already reaching for his suit, “Okay, let’s go.”

And they’re stumbling back onto a rooftop, giggling and out of breath. This in particular is the one they favor, one that overlooks Central Park, and a little further away, the Empire State, peeking its pointy head over the less impressive skyscrapers.

They sit at the edge, legs dangling off the ledge, watching as the sun sets and hides behind the buildings in the distance, recalling the amazing stunt she’d pulled by swinging off his web and landing flawlessly on her feet.

It’s funny how things work. She found out about his identity completely by accident two months ago, catching him half naked in an alley, all bloody, with his suit torn and no mask on. “I knew you were cute, Spider,” was all she said as she offered him a hand to help him back home, and ever since then, they’d grown closer.

Now that she’s on his side–at least, most of the time–he finds himself enjoying his patrolling nights. Their nights together. Sometimes he even catches himself looking forward to the sun setting, running back home from class, dying to get into his suit just to do this. And he likes doing it with her. He’d spent so much time alone, he’d forgotten how good it felt to just be around somebody, no matter how bothersome they are.

It really does mess with his head, because technically, he’s not supposed to like her. She’s been trouble from the start, and she’s made things more complicated for him countless times, but he has so much fun with her. And sure, if he doesn’t think about the morality of her profession, she’s the best partner he could ask for.

“These are really good,” he points out, scrolling through the pictures she’d taken of him mid-air on his second-hand camera.

He’s been selling pictures of Spider-Man to The Bugle for a couple months now. It’s a job he’d rather not do—after all, they do literally hate his guts over there—but it’s one he has to do if he wants to keep a roof over his head. At least, now he doesn’t have to tape his camera to a wall to take his pictures. She does the job for him.

“I have many talents.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he says absentmindedly.

Her brow shoots up, “Can you, now?”

His slow brain doesn’t realize she’s messing with him until a few seconds later, when he sees through the teasing smirk on her face and her comment downs on him. “I mean, thank you.”

“You’re so easy,” she laughs in a bright smile that reminds Peter a little too much of pure sunshine, pointing out his reddening cheeks. “Anyway, wanna make out?”

“Wh- what?” he chokes out. Did he hear correctly?

“I said: do you wanna get takeout?”

“I don’t think that’s what you said.”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

He’s sure his face is bright red at this point. Now he’s really wishing he hadn’t taken his mask off. She’s messing with him again, and he’s fallen for it, again. How embarrassing. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Do you have a thing for me blushing or…?”

“You are just so damn cute, Spider,” she bumps his shoulder, leaning into him slightly.

She blinks slowly, her lashes fluttering softly, and Peter starts shaking.

Maybe not literally, but on the inside, it feels like every cell on his body is vibrating, shaking away, like turbulence on an airplane, and he feels like he’s about to crash. It’s too late to worry about a bad landing, because he’s already trying to shove his wildly beating heart back into his ribcage before it spills out through his mouth.

Fortunately for him, just as he feels himself shifting forward the slightest bit, before he dares do something stupid, she stands up in a gush of energy and leaps onto the ledge of the roof.

She walks along the dangerously narrow path, putting one foot in front of the other with cat-like grace, her arms spread out. He knows her balance is quite literally perfect, knows she would never fall, and if she did, she would land on her feet, and yet, he can’t help it, it comes out of his mouth, easy as breathing, “Be careful.”

She turns around to face him, a smile on her face that is as sweet as is dangerous; a double edged sword. “Would you catch me? If I fell?”

“Always.”

And he means it, of course he does. She’s the closest thing he’s had to a friend the past few months, the only person who has been around, getting to know Spider-Man, and now Peter Parker alike.

After losing everything he’d ever had, he felt lost, angry and lonely. And that’s when she came around, swinging into his life like a fist, to slap him back into the world of the living and fill him with something other than grief.

Those first few months, when he chased her around the city, hoping to catch her with her hands on the smoking gun, he felt alive again. And then everything changed between them, and she went from foe to friend.

Now he can’t think about patrolling without thinking of her. He can’t picture the night without an image of her popping into his head, with her bratty attitude and wolfish grin, about to make a comment that will turn his ears pink. But he enjoys it, how she fills up the silence, how warm he feels next to her. Sometimes that warmth is anger and annoyance, sometimes it’s other things. Things he doesn’t dare admit, at least not yet.

She doesn’t say anything at his answer, even though he’s well aware that it sounds more like a confession than an offhand comment. If it has affected her in any way that isn’t prideful, she doesn’t let it show, just smiles triumphantly.

She’s got him wrapped around her finger, and she knows it. And maybe he’s in deeper than he thought he was. Maybe.

•••

A week of absolutely no distractions and assignment after assignment has given Peter a lot of time to think about various things. He’s come to a few realizations:

He should probably not take off his mask when he’s around the Cat, just so he won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him blush anymore.

College really is just not worth it.

He can’t live off of cheese strings and coffee.

College is not worth it again.

There’s a criminal organization in New York he needs to take down sooner than later.

Maybe he should’ve gone grocery shopping first, but he’s already barging into their shared rooftop, letting go of the web that swung him there to walk up to the Cat, already waiting for him and picking at her long nails.

“We’re gonna steal something!”

“Hello to you, too. Did you say “We”?” she grins, instantly intrigued. “That’s very immoral of you, Spidey.”

Normally, yes, he would find it immoral, but this is an exception. He’s been thinking about it for over a month now, and every time he runs it over in his head, it becomes more and more clear that he needs her expert hand if he wants it to be successful.

“It’s for the greater good.”

“Okay. What are we stealing?

“Just some records. Numbers. Proof.”

“Records,” her brow shoots up. “From whom?”

Peter kisses his cheek, dreading this moment, and whispers the answer through his teeth, almost inaudibly as he scratches at the nape of his neck. She gets a little closer to him, her inquisitive look piercing right through him, “Huh? You’re gonna have to speak a little louder. I don’t have your abilities, Spidey.”

“The Maggia.”

Her eyes widen. “The Maggia? Yeah, no, thank you,” she turns away from him and starts to walk in the opposite direction. “Already did that once and it was…not good.”

Maybe he doesn’t need need her help, but she is really good at what she does, and besides, he wants her by his side. Of course, he’s not about to tell her that, no need to feed her ego.

“Please,” he pouts under the mask, holding her back by her wrist so she doesn’t walk away from him. Begging doesn’t work with her, not at all, but he can try. “I can’t do it without you.”

Her stance softens at that, so she sighs, annoyed, “You know I’m all about being reckless, but not without a good reason. So what’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of knowing you’re going to help a lot of people by overthrowing organized crime?”

“Ugh,” her nose scrunches up in disgust.

“Why do you always need to get something out of it? We have a deal, don’t we? You help me sometimes, and I overlook your ‘visits’ to the Guggenheim,” he says, making air-quotes.

“Why do you care about that, anyway? I’m like Robin Hood.”

“You’re the British Museum at best.” She gasps, looking extremely offended for a few seconds, her hand over her heart, so he clarifies, “You don’t take from the rich to give to the poor.”

“Yes, I do. The rich being,” she makes a vague gesture with her hand, as if batting away some fly. “And the poor being me, of course.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Whatever you say.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head, catching her before she tries to divert the conversation. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

Her eyes roll, “Well, if I must…”

Barely a few hours later, once the sun has set, the crescent moon providing them with enough coverage in the shadows, they’re already on the go, towards the outskirts of the city.

It only takes them a few minutes to get to their destination, and once they do, they wait, watching the entrance of the property from their hiding place in the heights, observing in silence and coming up with their plan of action.

“Rooftop, you think? The skylight?” asks Peter.

“Yeah, that’ll be the quickest and safest way. You web me down, I’ll get whatever I can find. Nobody will even notice we were here. Easy as that.”

“Are you sure? I should go in with you.”

“No. They probably have security systems you won’t be able to recognize or avoid. I’ll go in. You keep watch.”

“I really think I should go in with you. What if–”

“Spider,” she interrupts him, getting closer to him until they’re face to face, inches away. “Let me do my thing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Peter is not particularly fond of this plan, but she’s the expert at this sort of thing, so he follows after her, silently swinging past the guards patrolling the perimeter and landing on the rooftop unnoticed. Once they reach the skylight at the center of it, she pulls a pin out of her suit and starts fumbling with the lock with expert hands.

Nearly two seconds later, it pops open, “Ta-da!”

“Wow. You are really good at that.”

“The best,” she announces happily. “Alright, pull me down.”

They manage to create some sort of make-shift harness out of his webs, wrapping them around her waist tightly so he’ll be able to hold her easily and bring her in and out of the facility with no problem. Once they’re done, she jumps down into the building with no hesitation, and he steadies himself, bending his knees and planting his feet firmly on the floor to hold her up.

And damn her, because even now, as he slowly lowers her down the skylight, she looks beautiful, with the moon shining down on her, her body contorting on the web to keep herself steady, her doe eyes looking up at him, instructing him to go a little slower now, more to the right then.

The Cat has many good qualities and abilities, but Peter found out very quickly that the weapon she wields the best is her beauty—a perfectly angled knife that slashes through him, punctures his lungs and leaves him gasping for air. It’s the one thing he hasn’t learnt how to dodge yet.

“Spider?” she asks suddenly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and resumes his job in aiding her to rappel down. “Got distracted.”

“Why? Do you like what you see? Is that what it is?” she purrs, obviously trying to make him tick. He’s not falling for it this time.

“Sure. Indiana Jones could never,” he jokes, and unfortunately it’s true. He might have the style, but he doesn’t have the elegance nor the effortlessness of the Black Cat. “What do you see?”

“Give me a second. It’s too dark.”

“You can’t be too far off the ground, can you?” It’s just a warehouse. “Can you?” he asks again, but there’s no answer, so he tries once more, “Cat?”

No answer still. Was this part of the plan? Wasn’t he supposed to get confirmation that she’d made it in? Sure, they didn’t talk about that, but isn’t it a normal thing to check on? Now he can’t recall what they’d discussed and his palms are starting to get sweatier and sweatier by the minute.

She told him to wait and keep watch, but he can’t just sit back. He has no business getting so worried, so quickly, but he’s not the most patient person, and he doesn’t like a single one of the hundred different scenarios that are rushing through his mind right now.

So he jumps into the building, with no thought in him but his partner getting hurt or taken or worse. And two seconds later as he lands on a dark hallway, just like she said he would, he triggers some sort of alarm, and the whole building goes on full blast, blaring a high pitched noise, bright red flashing lights and all.

“Shit,” he murmurs under his breath.

Peter doesn’t know what to do except run, instead of back through the skylight, right down the hallway, in search of The Cat. Just when he rounds out the corner, running frantically like a maniac, he slams hard against something, sending him almost straight to the floor.

“Peter?”

“Oh, thank God, you’re okay,” he places his arms on her shoulders to ground himself, relieved once he sees her, safe and sound.

“What did you do?” she asks, annoyed, over the deafening sound of the alarm.

“You weren’t answering! So I came in.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Red light illuminates her face, matching her annoyance. “I was doing my job. You clearly didn’t do yours very well.”

“Uh, excuse me, lady, for worrying about you.”

“Get us out of here, Spider. Out, out,” she taps his shoulders.

They run back down the hallway, to make their way out of the skylight once more, and he’s wrapping his arm around her waist to swing them both out and away when-

A bullet whizzes past them, making them jump.

“Holy fu-”

“You!” Two burly men in suits are sprinting down the corridor towards them, guns pointed, fingers on the trigger and ready to shoot again.

Peter tugs at her hand to get her out of there, but she steps in front of him instead, on the line of fire.

“Watch out! Faulty construction!” she yells out in a mocking tone, and somehow, the whole ceiling panel ahead of them breaks away and tumbles down onto the men, knocking them down and burying them under plaster. “Oops!”

Peter’s eyes widen, weirdly impressed. Those bad luck powers truly are something.

And as soon as he’s about to praise her and her little stunt, a whole group of mobsters round the corner, marching at them with all kinds of weapons ready to fire. They’re way too many to fight on their own, so like real heros do in times of trouble, they make a run for it.

“Hold on tight!” His arm wraps around her waist as her legs wrap around his, and Peter leaps out of the skylight, carrying them both out into the night.

A bullet whizzes by way too close to them, cutting through the air and making his hair stand on end as he shoots out a web to propel them towards the edge of the building. He jumps off the railing, the arm around her tightening its grip, and for a couple of seconds where time stands completely still, they’re free falling, and falling, and falling, until Peter shoots out another web, preventing them from slamming onto the pavement.

He swings them back to his apartment, his mood souring further the closer they get, guilt starting to creep in as the adrenaline washes away. Perching her gently on the window ledge, he allows her to crack it open and let them in easily, too defeated to even try to argue about it.

He rips his mask off as soon as he steps in, throwing it across the room carelessly. “Damn it,” he barks frustratedly, kicking the floor. “I messed it up, didn’t I? I almost got us killed.”

“You did,” she nods her head, adjusting the fur on her collar. “But it was fun. A little run in with the mob is always good. Could’ve gone worse.”

“Fun? They were firing multiple guns at us. That wasn’t fun, that was insane!”

“Spider-”

“That was all my fault! I almost- How could I be so stupid?”

“I can assure you, you can get stupider. it wasn’t that big of a deal,” she tries to cut in again, but Peter keeps on frantically pacing, his breathing getting agitated, his face blotchy.

“I didn’t listen. I should’ve listened to you.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Oh my god! I put you in danger! I fucked up and I put you in danger and it was all for nothing-”

“Peter!”

Now, that shuts him right up.

“I swear to God, you better shut up right now.”

But he’s so caught off guard that he wouldn’t be able to speak even if he tried.

Peter.

She has never called him that. Never by his name. Always Spider, sometimes Spidey, other times any weird name that crosses her mind. Never Peter. And he doesn’t understand why he’s so shocked by it, but he guesses it’s because it’s been a while since he’s heard his name coming out of the mouth of a friend.

And the realization is soul-crushing.

He’s too preoccupied with that to process anything else she’s saying or to notice how she’s ruffling through her pockets in search of something.

“Hey!” she snaps her fingers to get his attention. “Who said it was for nothing, huh?” she purrs, a smirk on her face, and in her hand, between her index and thumb, a shiny, silver pendrive, glinting in the dim light, like the final quest reward in some videogame.

He takes it from her and studies it in his hand, fascinated with the little token and even more fascinated by her and her abilities and how she somehow keeps surprising him again and again. “Cat, I could kiss you right now.”

“All in its right time,” she laughs, sitting beside him on the end of his bed, her hand on his shoulder. “I told you I had your back if you had mine, didn’t I? When I found out,” she points at his face. “I meant it. Don’t beat yourself up. We did this together. I know you don’t like me most of the time, but-”

“Don’t say that. I do. Like you. All of the time.”

How could he not? Even back when he thought he hated her, he adored her. Cherished every second they spent together, throwing punches and kicking each other in the shins, throwing witty and snarky comments back and forth like daggers.

Bold and brass, she’d shaken him awake from a deep slumber. Not gently like the warmth of the early morning sun on your closed eyelids would, heating up your chilling bones; but more like the punching shock and the grimace that follows after sucking on a lemon. Or getting kicked in the mouth, those terrible seconds when you notice that rusty taste on your tongue and you check in fear if you’ve still got all of your teeth.

That's how she makes him feel, which is not a pretty picture, but somehow explains it perfectly.

“That’s very sweet of you, lover,” she says with a fond smile. “I like you too, even when you’re scolding me for being a master at my craft and looking good while doing it.”

“Ha-ha,” he fake-laughs despondently. His hand finds hers on her knee, and he interlocks their fingers, squeezing reassuringly. “Is that really what you think? That I don’t like you?”

“Not really. I’ve seen your cheeks turn bright red enough times to know it’s not exactly anger. But…”

“What is it?”

“I dunno. I feel like there is a side of me you can’t get behind, and that really bothers me,” she says honestly, in a tone he’s not used to hearing from her. “This is not a game to me. You know that, right? I know I say I’m having fun all the time, but really, I do have my reasons for doing this. I’d much rather be in college, like you are.”

The breaking and entering, the robberies, the fights, the getting acquainted with the wrong people. Of course he knows there’s a reason behind all of it. She’s young and on her own. He doesn’t know what brought her to this point, but he understood from the beginning that she’s just looking out for herself.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “If I ever made you feel bad about that. I know you’re just doing what you need to do. We all are.” They just have different ways to it. But he can’t judge her for that.

“It’s okay,” and her smile is back. Sunny and undefeated. “You couldn’t bring me down if you tried. I’ll beat your ass.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he laughs with her, and it flows easy and free, his chest feeling lighter, his hand still on hers.

But then the laughter dies down, and the silence settles in, and they stare at each other with nothing to say for once. They’re sitting way too close together. The faint fragrance of her perfume–something sweet and floral he hasn't had the chance to indulge in until now–fills up his nostrils, making his head spin.

Tentatively, he reaches up, his gloved hand meeting the side of her face, and he expects her to pull away, make some comment about him keeping his hands to himself. But surprisingly, she gets even closer, nuzzles into his touch, and he’s suddenly wishing he wasn’t wearing his suit, just to feel her warm cheek under his fingers.

“Can I?” he simply whispers.

Their eyes meet, and she nods coyly, giving him the green light to move forward. His fingers clasp around her goggles, perfectly fitted to her face, and he pulls them off, slowly.

She once said she wore them only for theatrics, not to actually hide who she was, because she was too pretty for that, and besides, no one would ever catch her. Peter wasn't too sure about that, but he agreed on the former.

He’s never seen her without them, and even if they don’t do much in covering her face, it feels weirdly intimate. Like some sort of metaphorical mask; a veil that’s being lifted to reveal truths, ones that he suspects have been ready to be uttered for a while now.

And it’s like he’s seeing her for the first time all over again.

He remembers the shock, the awe, the intrigue. It still feels fresh in his mind, imprinted there, the way it does when someone makes one hell of a first impression. He recalls every single move she’d made during that first fight, every punch she’d thrown, every kick he’d received.

And yet, all of it dissolves into nothing but feelings and sensations, faint memories, because the girl in front of him–the girl he’s seeing–is not The Black Cat, infamous master burglar. He’s seeing her, just the girl, more akin to him than he’ll ever know.

The girl, who fills his nights with giggles and joy, amidst the blood and the bruises and the darkness.

Sure, she enjoys teasing him, toying with him, pressing all the wrong and right buttons. Her presence is intoxicating in all senses of the word. Most of the time, he finds her extremely annoying, especially when she goes a little rogue, but he wouldn’t trade her company for anything. She fills up all the empty spaces in his life left by the people who are gone, and the ones that no longer know him. But she does–know him. He’s gotten the chance to start over, with her, a blank slate.

He’s afraid he’s given her too much of an in into his life, and having someone know about his identity again is terrifying, it strangely feels like he’s doing it all over again. He just hopes history doesn’t repeat itself, and although he’s learned to not take anything for certain, the one thing he knows is that he wants her here, by his side. He wants her.

He can pinpoint that feeling now, clear as day. It’s that very last second playing roulette, when you see it’s about to land on red after you’ve bet all of your money on it.

He might have just gotten lucky.

Before he knows it, he’s leaning in, and after a beat of a heart, his lips are on hers.

She doesn’t pull away, just leans into it, letting him take the reins of the kiss, his hand cupping her cheek, her hand wrapping around his wrist. She presses on a little closer, her other hand falling onto his thigh that’s brushing against hers on the bed, tainting the kiss with a fervor unfamiliar to him. He welcomes it gladly, allowing her to climb onto his lap, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pressing her body against his as she lays him on his bed.

Her kiss is tender, and strangely sweet considering she’s sitting on top of him, but not gentle–more so, demanding. He’s tempted to move his hands on her waist a little lower, explore every inch of that damned leather suit, but he doesn’t dare move them, just keeps kissing her. It’s only when her hands start snaking down his body and her lips move down his jaw and neck to plant open-mouthed kisses there that he snaps out of it

“Wait, wait,” he pulls away, holding her face in his hands. He can’t believe he’s saying no to a girl already in his bed–even if it’s the stuff of his wildest fantasies and a younger version of him would smack him on the back of his neck–but he wants to do this the right way. He owes her that. “I really like you.”

“I can tell,” she assures him with half a smirk, her eyes drifting down between their bodies.

But he doesn’t blush this time, not even under her scorching gaze. “And I really, really want to keep kissing you.”

“Okay,”

“But I really, really care about you, so let’s not jinx it?”

“You really just don’t like fun, huh?” she sighs.

He laughs, sitting up to rest his forehead against hers, his nose gently grazing hers, his hands flat on her back. “I wanna be with you, Cat,” he whispers.

She just studies him silently, pondering his words, her mind surely working through a hundred different scenarios and outcomes. “You’re too good for me, Peter.”

By the way she’s looking at him, he can almost hear her next words in the silence. I’m not a hero. I’m not some broken toy you can fix. I’m a thief, proudly so. And I’ll always be one. You can’t change that.

And that’s the thing: he doesn't want her to change. He’ll take the good with the bad, the shiny and the rusted. He likes her as she is. Even if she does not understand boundaries, even if she’ll go to the ends of the world just to see him blush at one of her dirty comments.

Most of the time, she represents everything he’s trying to fight, but it’s like every single time he thinks he can’t see past it, she surprises him with some small, little confession in the midst of some casual conversation that hits too close to home. He can’t help but feel like there is more to her. There is something hidden under the leather and the pout and the pretty face and the witty, flirty comebacks, and he’s more than willing to uncover it all, if she’ll let him.

“What if it doesn’t work?” she asks, their bodies still tangled together on his bed. “What if it ends up horribly and I’m just someone else you have to lose?”

Peter places the softest of kisses on her forehead.

She looks so sad, and he gets it; he really does after losing everybody. This lifestyle is not easy, and it’s hard to let people in. Fear eats away at you slowly, until you’re left with nothing, all jagged and sharp edges, with a “Danger. Do not touch.” sign printed on your chest.

But it’s been a year already, a very long year, and he’s already gotten a taste of what a second chance might look like. If he thinks back on everyone who has ever loved him, he knows he can’t let her go. He wants to try his luck.

After all, she came in right when he needed her the most, and if that’s not good luck, he doesn't know what is. It’s a lonely life, the one they’ve chosen, but it’s theirs, and they have each other now. She’s got his back, and he’s got hers.

“I’ll always be there to catch you, remember?”

Both her hands come up to his face, and a second later, she’s kissing him again, with the same passion from that first kiss, but still gently, confirming everything Peter needed to know. That she might be the one–the one who sticks around, who understands him.

She pulls away, with a smile threatening to break free on her face, and whispers against his lips, “You’ll have to let me go about my business, though. You know that.”

His whole face lights up wtih a silly, shit-eating grin. “Don’t I already do that?”

“Alright,” she hums in agreement, tilting her head like a kitten with glossy eyes. “Can we keep kissing now, or…?”

“Yes.”

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acapelladitty · 6 months

Text

Anamnesis (fic)

Pairing: Edward Nygma/Jonathan Crane

Summary - Trapped in an abandoned house with his partner, Edward is quick to find out that not everything is truly as it seems.

This fic is part of a stunning collab with the wonderful and thrilling artistic talents of both @enigmamuse and @plushievash as part of a fun Halloween exchange. Their amazing artwork can be found using this link 🎃

The scent of damp tickled Edward’s nose as he sought refuge in the smallest of the upstairs bedrooms, one which neither he nor Jonathan seen fit to visit before due to the scale of the weathered damage in the old walls. Having stepped into the bedroom, the ghostly sheets which covered every inch of the meagre possessions drew a sharp shudder from Edward’s lips as his left palm pressed into his right shoulder harshly.

“Does it hurt?” Jonathan asked. Pulling his mask free of his face and tucking it below his armpit, Jonathan dipped his head slightly to investigate the source of Edward’s wound. The metal had torn through the suit like butter, leaving a messy hole in its wake.

Edward pulled his palm away, the skin disturbingly wet and coated with crimson. “Yeah, but it’s not too deep. A few inches possibly but I still have full mobility. I’m more concerned by the rust that coated it and what, exactly, knocked me onto it.”

“You should be thankful,” Jonathan muttered as he stood with a collected calmness which made Edward’s panicked state even more clear, “that it was only the shoulder which you clipped. Had you fallen more awkwardly, we would not be having this conversation. A fall can be a terrible thing.”

Remaining stubbornly silent as the fear which simmered in his chest recalled the unnatural strength of the shove which had sent him sprawling to the floor, the only noise to escape Edward’s lips was a pained grunt as Jonathan tore free a length of his shirt used the length of fabric to wrap his shoulder as best he could. His hands were firm and clinical, taking care not to aggravate the wound while also sparing very little care to ensure that he avoided the worst of the pain.

It was a touch Edward was familiar with, very similar to the type of affection which Jonathan often deigned to give him, and Edward felt oddly dizzy as he pressed the back of his head against the wall.

“Do we have a plan for escape?” Edward asked.

“The doors and windows are all rotted, incapable of being opened without a key. You may have to search for something heavy to smash through one of the weaker doors.”

Having sought refuge in an old farmhouse after a plan gone horrendously wrong, the pair had passed out on the moth-eaten furniture which sat in the living room. Awaking in the dead of night, Edward had been the first to notice the changes to the house – panic making his voice loud enough to draw Jonathan from his restless sleep.

An agreement to split and search every inch of the house had started out well, but things were brought to a screeching halt when something attacked Edward in the living room, pushing him to the floor and causing a discarded metal frame to pierce the front of his shoulder. His yell had echoed throughout the house and Jonathan had appeared immediately to investigate.

“Smash through?” Edward scoffed. “With my shoulder in tatters and your meagre strength? We might as well take two of the kitchen knives and end it all now. Would be preferable to being attacked by that thing again.”

Thing.

Edward himself wasn’t even sure what it had been.

“Are you worried something terrible will befall you, Edward? Some terrible accident? Something to splatter those vast brains across the floor?” Jonathan’s lips settled into a fine line, his tone playful in a way which made Edward’s spine stiffen. It passed quickly though, as Jonathan was quick to gain his composure. “But now is not the time for petty squabbling, Edward. All debts are paid in the end.”

The words were simple yet something in them chilled Edward’s blood and he narrowed his eyes at Jonathan – who only watched him back with a blank expression.

A crash, the cadence like something dense being knocked to the floor and shattering into parts, made Edward startle in place as he pressed against the wall of the small bedroom - the noise sounding as though it came from the attic, high above.

“Do you think we’re alone here?” Edward whispered, using a great amount of control to keep his voice even and without tremble.

“No.” Jonathan answered. “Something is coming, and you will need to face it at some point, I fear.”

Edward paused, anxiety striking at his chest like a glancing blow. “You?”

“We.” Jonathan corrected with a mirthless smile, one which exposed the slightest hint of teeth. “It was my mistake.”

“Then we should check the next bedroom.” Edward insisted, ignoring the tickle of guilt which snared itself around his neck. An odd feeling which made his footing feel light as he shifted forward. “There is nothing here we can use to so much as create a dent in the walls.”

Baring his teeth, Edward opened the bedroom door slowly to prevent the creak of the rusted hinges. The floor beneath their feet was old and in the early stages of rotting; every floorboard feeling less stable than the last as he crept to the nearby room with all the tension of a church mouse who sought to escape a particularly furious cat.

In the corner of the hallway lay a spider web and Edward watched with bright eyes as the sizeable creature skittered across the wall to safety – all the while seeming to watch the pair with unseen eyes. Opening his mouth to comment on it, Edward’s words caught in his throat as a harsh thump sounded out from the space behind his back.

Whirling in place, Edward turned to see an empty hallway.

A look of uncertainty flittered through Edward’s panicked expression – his boyish features twisted into something that did not sit well on his face – as he paused long enough to stare between Jonathan’s vacated space and the stiff door of the next bedroom.

The darkness of the hallway took Edward’s breath away as his eyes widened in the gloom, determined to seek out anything which he could focus on as his panicked fingers scraped at the wall space beside the door – desperately attempting to locate the light switch.

Finding none, he instead focused on the flashlight in his hand; breathing a sigh of relief as the light flickered to life, a single beam of light offering some scant illumination to the decaying space.

Heart thudding in his chest, Edward watched with horrified eyes as the flashlight in his hand stuttered after a moment and went out. His throat tight, he shook the plastic hard and almost sobbed out his relief when it shot back to life. However, his peace was short lived as a sharp crack of screaming floorboard sounded in the darkness of the corridor behind him and he whirled around in an instant.

Edward, his hand as heavy as steel and yet unable to stop shaking, brought the flashlight up to the gloom and the frantic rhythm of his pulse stopped for a moment as the light illuminated the deep void of blackened eyes to reveal the beast which had attacked him earlier and continued to stalk him through the old house.

The tendrils of fear which crept around his heart chilled him from the inside out as wide eyes watched the beast approach.

Its face was inhumane, bearing a terrible hint of familiarity within the look of pure hunger which radiated from its dark eye - the black void of iris only punctuated by a slight orange tinge where the dim light caught it. The other eye was missing, replaced by a ragged hole. Skin, translucent and grotesque, sat around it and it lay over flesh so pitted that certain areas appeared littered with holes, giving a peek of the raw, pulsing flesh below.

A mockery of hair sat atop the beast’s skull. The straw-like material thin and a shade of deep brown which made something within Edward's stomach turn as he gazed at it.

It almost looked the same shade as-

No.

It was impossible.

Denial stabbed at Edward’s heart, but his gaze could only remain frozen on the ragged hair for so long as the humanoid beast opened its maw to expose what lay beneath.

A single row of sharp teeth, like a collection of short swords, jutted free of the creatures’ gums and their off-white colour was contrasted by the vivid red which stained the tapered end of each tooth – the evidence of a recent violence which made Edward’s stomach lurch. Just above, a hole sat where the nose should have been and only the slightest hint of cartilage remained.

Its movements were a twisted mess. The heft of the creature moving jerkily; almost like a human dangled on the end of a marionettes string as each limb appeared to fall limp in the moments where it was not required for immediate use as its extremities crawled along the floor.

Something in the uncanny flexibility made Edward's stomach turn and bile rise at the base of his throat. It was a living corpse - puppeteered by a darkness which made the air dank and stale, every breath making his lungs recoil. It pulled itself along the floor, shambling without thought as each limb moved of its own accord towards its prey.

Jonathan's movements had always been jerky and unpredictable. A talent which accented his thin frame and kept his victims in a decent state of anxiety as he used his uncanny frame to his advantage.

But this.

This was a mockery - something profane - and every nerve in Edward's body screamed just how wrong it all was.

"Edward."

A single word and yet the terror which shot through Edward's chest was almost enough to pause his heart. The voice did not seem to come from the lips of the creature, but rather from within in; somewhere deep inside its rotten chest where no air could naturally flow.

His eyes dragging themselves up from the stomach, Edward gripped the flashlight so tightly that the faintest crack of the plastic trembled through his fingers.

“Jo-Johnathan?”

Holding his attention, the skin of the Jonathan-shaped creature seemed to shift and roll, eventually splitting open at the scalp to reveal a dark cavern where the skull should reside. Cracked open and revealed, the revulsion in Edward's stomach reached a new peak as the scent of blood pressed at his nostrils.

“You did this.” The beast accused, continuing its painfully slow movement through the corridor. “You did this to me.”

“What?” Unable to stop the tremble of his hand, Edward watched the beam of light shiver against the rotted skin.

“You left me. Like this.” The beast tilted its head, showcasing the tear in its skull with a grim determination. “You saw me fall…heard me scream…and left. Ran…coward. You ran here…to hide.”

Every short, broken sentence was a death rattle; the words grotesque but alluring in a way which Jonathan was very skilled at. A spider attempting to lure in a very sophisticated fly.

The echoes of a scream, something filled with genuine terror, ripped through Edward’s mind. A scream of surprise. A sharp crack of metal. A horrified yell ended by a definitive thump which Edward had not investigated.

A sound of a plan gone horribly wrong.

A sound of a lover, lost to the smashed skull from which his life cracked free.

The stench of death - reeking from the breath of the beast - washed over his face and, unable to stop the fuzziness which pressed at his senses, Edward felt his knees give way as his vision dimmed and his mind rejected the fragmented memories and collapsed into blissful unconsciousness.

#scriddler #riddler #scarecrow #edward nygma #Jonathan crane #riddler x scarecrow #edward nigma #gotham rogues #batman villains #riddlecrow

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p0ssywhippedcream · 10 months

Text

Piper has liked you since she saw you. You were spilling a drink in a red cup, dancing with only your hips and toes and laughing real loud at something your friend said. You nodded to the music, taking soft sips of your drink and looking absolutely ethereal in the vibrant light of the party.

Annabeth stood next to her with a teasing smirk on her face and leaned in to yell, “That’s Y/n! Daughter of P/n, she’s super sweet. You should go for it!”

Piper blushed and hid her embarrassment in her drink, “I don’t know, is she new?”

“Yeah! Got to camp a couple weeks ago..” As Annabeth is filling Piper in on you, you of course take that moment to make eye contact with her across the room. You flash her a big smile and a small wave, air-cheersing her and loosing a little more of your soda.

Piper mimics you, careful to keep her drink in her cup as she gives you a less-toothy grin.

You turn back to your friends and Piper’s small amount of confidence depletes, already scared she’s lost her chance until you’re spinning back her way and walking at her.

Annabeth excuses herself with a comment about Aphrodite’s interference and Piper nods goodbye absentmindedly. Your hair practically glows in the blue light, your part is messy with strands flying every which way as you bounce over to her. Your shirt is a little askew, revealing a peek of your shoulder and sliding down more as you throw your hand out.

“Hi!” You shake her hand so enthusiastically she doubts you notice the nervous tremors. “I’m Y/n, you’re Piper, right?”

“Yeah!” She has to holler to be heard over the country song you slightly shimmy to, “Daughter of Aphrodite.”

“Oh wow, you must be really good at flirting then! Could I get a test drive?” Your grin is contagious but your laugh is even better, the whole room is put to shame with the lively giggles you offer.

“I’m afraid I didn’t inherit her smooth-talking.” You tilt your head, leaning in closer to hear her better. Piper’s heart is beating so hard, she swears it’s louder than the bass.

“No charmspeak?”

“No, I got that but I would never use it on you.”

“Yeah? You wanna make sure my interest is genuine, huh?”

You stole the words right out of her brain so she just nods with a loose jaw.

“Well, how about you take me somewhere quieter so you can really figure it out?”

You slip your hand into hers, the lines of your palm slotting against hers just right. She begins to pull you through the crowd, stopping a couple times to greet someone or to wait for an opening. When she finally gets you out of the cabin, she leads you away from the noise and towards the lake.

You plop down in the sand, subsequently pulling her down with you from where you’re connected. She’s a little sweaty but your hand has a firm grip so she couldn’t get away even if she wanted to, and she really doesn’t.

“So, tell me, Piper,” Then you look at her with your shinning eyes and curious smile and she almost chokes, “Who are you?”

She clears her throat and tries to remember anything about herself, all information flying out the window when she makes eye contact with you again.

“I mean, besides my future girlfriend.” Scratch that, she does choke.

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glitchtricks94 · 2 years

Text

Picked Your Poison

Vil Schoenheit x Tomboy!Reader

Welcome to my first fic here. I don't have access to playing the games and I'm still working through watching the translations. Please be gentle and let me know your thoughts, and if you have any tips, they'd be greatly appreciated, with that, I hope you enjoy and I'll hopefully see you sometime next millennia, take care of yourselves, peeps. -GlitchTricks *Gender Neutral Pronouns used!* *JP Terms used! (Madol, dorm leaders, etc...)* Word count: 5.1k Vil was at the end of his rope. He was losing his mind from your antics, your messiness and just...everything that makes you, you. It drove him insane as he plotted out the points where he felt everything he had regarding you as a simple potato with next to no worth to him began to steadily crumble to dust.

First, you assaulted his sleep. Many nights went by that the ever so famous actor/model where he poured over his thoughts of you. Vil would lie awake under his various covers, staring up at the canopy curtains that hung over him with a scrunched up expression, perfect, plush lips pressed into a fine line, his jaw clenched tightly alongside his hands. The blonde had gone to bed at curfew, 10 p.m. as per usual. Yet now the clock had just ticked over to midnight, Vil still lying awake. His mind was refusing to quell itself into the soothing emptiness he was normally able to achieve via some simple meditation. Any thoughts he'd cleared out had been replaced by the annoyingly endearing Ramshackle prefect; the sweet smiles, the obnoxious laughter, the pure strength when they played sports with the other students, all of it drove him wild in what he considered to be the worst ways possible. Vil sat up, letting out a groan at what he was perceiving to yet another sleepless night, seeing as how you've waged war on his brain, yet again. The blonde pondered getting some sleep aid medications, but ultimately decided against it. He couldn't risk putting anything he hadn't researched thoroughly enough to ensure the upkeep of his beauty. It might ruin everything he's worked for! And just who did you think you were, stealing his beauty sleep from him, you...you...you pathetically cute potato! Vil gripped at his hair and slammed his back down on his mattress, a groan slipping past his lips. "Stupid potato. They aren't even that special, why are they invading my mind?" Vil mumbled to himself, turning and staring at his disheveled form; tousled hair, bright lavender eyes filled with frustration, and perfect, snow white skin practically glowing in the soft moonlight that infiltrated the room, soft yellows and pinks coloring parts of his wall. He thought he looked terrible at the moment until the tiny voice that had resided in the back of his head spoke up, yet again, much to his dismay. "They'd say you look stunning like always though, wouldn't they?" "Yes...yes, they would tell me such kind words..." He whispered to himself, breaking the staring contest he held with his reflection, slowly starting to relax as he dove deep into his thoughts once more. Vil spent another night falling into sweet fantasies of holding you close to him as he did his makeup for another day at Night Raven College, your honey sweet voice whispering sweet nothing of love and soft compliments of adoration to him, a ghost of a smile appearing on the blonde's lips. He finally felt himself falling into a sweet decent into sleep, just as the clock changed to 4 a.m. The male had to wake up in less than two hours to go on his usual morning run before indulging in a healthy smoothie and having a cheat day waffle with cinnamon and strawberries. Oh, what hell he has had the past week with you crashing into his sleep schedule...

Second, you ended up ruining his skin care efforts. A loud scream permeated the glorious halls of Pomefiore. Vil had awoken and checked himself in the mirror, finding a small set of three pimples sitting on her perfectly sculpted cheek, the dorm leader looking mortified. Grabbing his concealer, Vil swiftly went to work covering up the bright red dots that ruined his complexion, the filthy blemishes now hidden under a small pile of makeup. The man was livid. All of these sleepless nights have finally caught up to him and ruined his complexion! How dare you ruin his skin by invading his mind every night! Vil felt as though he had every right to punish you for your crimes against his beauty routine. The blonde glared at his reflection with his teeth bared as Rook rushed into the room, his normally perfectly combed hair a rat's nest and his poisoned apple themed pajamas sitting on his broad frame. "Roi de Poison, whatever is the matter?! it must be monumental to cause you to strain your vocal cords in such a cry!" The eccentric hunter exclaimed, looking at Vil with worry. "The prefect has ruined my skin! They've been keeping me up night after night, flooding my brain with useless thoughts of them and now my skin care routines need to be doubled, no, tripled to make up for the disgusting acne they caused!" Vil exclaimed angrily, turning to Rook with a fire in his eyes. "Go get cleaned up this instant! We have planning to do." Rook's signature, stoic smile came to his face as he clasped his hand over his heart, overwhelmingly charmed by this side of the beautiful being that was Vil Schoenheit; the fire in his eyes and dark furious expression on his face, the way his lips curled up to reveal his teeth; si belle! "As you wish, Roi de Poison, I shall aid you in concocting the perfect plan to use against the prefect of Ramshackle!" Rook said, looking at Vil with pure admiration. "Surely they must pay for destroying such beauty, although, you still look simply magnifique with your silky locks, perfect eyes, enchanting frame-" "Rook, shut up, and get dressed for the day this instant! I am not in the mood for flattery! I want that prefect's heart on a silver platter." Vil snarled, Rook simply chuckling with glee as he conceded and slipped away to attend to his own appearance. Vil turned back to the mirror, glaring at the spots that were so perfectly hidden on his cheek, vowing to make you pay for such disgrace.

Third, you somehow ruined his plans and caught another potato's eye. Vil's little plan had gone awry, the small potion he had mixed with some apple juice he had given to you had been drank by a Savanaclaw student you had gotten close with during the times you'd try and join in on Magift practice with Ruggie. The strange, rather revolting potato of a student instantly got a breakout on his face and groaned in annoyance. The dorm leader felt his heart squeeze with frustration and a cruel jealousy encapsuled his mind as he saw you ever so kindly comfort your friend, who looked at you like you were an angel sent from the stars. How dare that disgusting individual eye up something that was clearly supposed to be his! "Hey, man, don't worry, it's just a little acne. I managed to get a hold of some stuff to help get rid of that." Your sweet, kindly voice cooed. "Besides, ain't a little acne normal?" "Yeah, I guess so, still super annoying though..." The student replied, brown hair slightly swaying as he turned to look at you, brown eyes glistening in relief before you both snapped to attention at Leona's shout. "That's it, break it up, no mushy shit allowed here." Leona yelled, tossing a broom at that acne ridden potato. "Kastor, you and the prefect are gonna be riding the broom together, don't fuck this up." "Y-Yes, Dorm Leader!" Kastor nervously spoke, catching the broom that the lion threw. Vil couldn't believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing as he watched on with an expression of horror. As much as he adored the sounds of your laughter, the yells of victory you shared with Epel, that radiant smile on your face, he couldn't stand seeing you cozy up to Kastor Wayne of all people. It made his polished skin crawl with jealousy and disgust. You were laughing and giggling at jokes he made during the break, his shyer, quieter demeanor seemingly endearing you to his filthy charms. Isn't he aware of how unworthy he is of your time? How Vil himself would be a better companion and potential lover to you than that pathetic potato ever could?! He couldn't take anymore of this. He was furious about this and stomped out of the stadium where the Magift club always practiced, deciding that the club activities for Film Appreciation will be centered around how to take down an enemy, as well as the techniques actors and directors used to achieve the effects. He'd be imagining that he was slaying and cursing Kastor during the examples of this.

Vil sighed as he remembered those disgusting, longing looks that Wayne had sent you, the cunning expression on his face as he tried to be personable with your friends, specifically Epel. The country born child, however, had no interest and even openly saw Kastor trying to flirt with you. Ace started to act like your brother and barked about how if Kastor wanted to date you, he'd have to go through him first and get his approval, the little racoon thing you roomed with jumping in and agreeing. Vil couldn't hide his smirk when he witnessed that lunchtime debacle, seeing that ruffian get shut down hard when he was trying to squeeze in on your territory. Even now, a triumphant smile graced Vil's lips at the sweet memory of Wayne's proper humiliation. Serve's him just right for trying to mess with his potato. Vil froze with his train of thought, snapping back to reality as he stared at his reflection, his deep royal purple eyeliner perfectly done up in a thick cat eye style. When did he start thinking of you as his? Vil didn't know how to feel about this, his glossy lips pursing together as he gripped his vanity. Reflecting on his actions, he realized he was also putting more effort into his appearance, and not because you gave him a small breakout a little while ago, but because you seemed to poke your head in Pomefiore often. You always brushed off any questions from Rook about it, saying you were studying with Epel before darting away from Vil's trusted vice dorm leader, hiding away from those emerald eyes the hunter had. Rook never took offense, but rather, he confided to both Vil and Epel that he found such anticks by you terribly endearing. "The Trickster's cute expressions are an absolute delight, they run away like a little mouse after speaking with me! Hmhmhm~!" That is usually what Rook exclaims while sipping tea in the lounge of Pomefiore. The dorm leader was starting to get lost in his thoughts again when he heard a knock on his door, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising as he turned his attention to the entrance to his room. "Who is it?" He called out, breath hitching when he heard your voice. "Hey, Vil, it's me! Can I talk to you for a minute?" You called out, your chirpy tone permeating Vil's ears and making him internally panic. It was times like this that he blessed the day he decided to become an actor.

"Give me a moment, little spudling, I'm in the middle of fixing my hair!" Vil called back, the prefect letting out a sound of understanding.

It wasn't quite a lie, Vil did still have to get his hair just so with his crown resting elegantly on his head, pride in his appearance rolling off him in waves. "I'll see you in the longue, alright?"

"Sure thing, your highness!" You replied, giggling to yourself at the nickname you picked out for him. Vil smiled softly hearing your joyous voice calling out to him in such a manner, it was like music to his ears. He actually quite liked that particular nickname too; you bestowed it upon him after mentioning he looked like royalty. "Since you always look like royalty in your uniform, I guess I should refer to you as such, yeah?" Your sweet, little voice giggled, a wide smirk on your face as you took in Vil's expression of surprise before he let out a chuckle, the blonde setting his teacup on its saucer as he sat back against the plush couch of the Pomefiore lounge. "Yes, I suppose you should, little potato."

Vil smiled again at the memory, fixing up his silky locks to their usual style, his hair shimmering softly in the light as he framed his features before carefully placing his crown on his head. He looked over his appearance in the mirror before nodding his head in satisfaction.

"Perfect." He whispered to himself before he left his room, head held high as he strode down the hall, heels clacking against the polished floors.

Vil couldn't deny the excitement that roared through his veins as he drew closer to the lounge, soft laughter soon filling his ears as he entered, catching sight of you and Epel playing around. The smaller boy was laughing and fighting against you as you held him in a soft headlock, messing up his hair with your fist, noogying your fellow first year affectionately.

Well, wasn't this infuriating? Vil had personally helped Epel style those messy locks of his into something somewhat pretty, even if his appearance was more cute and doll-like, much to Vil's annoyance: and now, here you were, prefect. Messing up all that hard work yet again!

The beautiful man couldn't hold such things against you though. That troublesome smile on your face where the apples of your cheeks rose to make those bright eyes crease with joy was a sight worth seeing. He'll let Epel off the hook this time since he was to thank for such a sight.

"Hey, c'mon, cut it out, prefect!" Epel complained through his laughter, his country accent and mannerisms slipping out. "You said Vil was meetin' ya here! Lemme go!"

"Nah, no way, Epel! You'll be fine, Vil usually takes awhile to perfect his looks, remember?" You replied playfully, laughing alongside the lavender locked boy.

"Well, I do try to take ample time to appear presentable at the highest regard." Vil spoke up, stepping deeper into the lounge and moving to stand before you and his underclassman, his hands on his hips. "However, it seems I cannot say the same for you, prefect, Felmier."

"D-Dorm leader! I-I can explain, truly, I-" Epel began to stammer, pulling out of your loosened grip with a frightened expression on his face, his tousled hair sticking up in all directions as he looked up at his dorm head. You looked up at Vil owlishly, your own hair messy as hell, as per usual. Well, perhaps not as messy as it normally was…You had managed to make it even more of a mess.

"Now, now, none of that, Epel. For once, you'll be getting off easy since I have business with the prefect. Go find Rook and have him fix your hair, then you are free to go until your lessons later this evening. Am I clear?" Vil said sternly, looking at Epel like how a mother would scold her children.

"Y-yes, Dorm leader! Thank you, dorm leader!" Epel cried, getting up and rushing out oy the room, harsh footsteps following after him. Vil tutted as he turned to look at you, his breath hitching silently as he took in how your eyes were looking at him, full of awe and wonder. "Prefect." Vil spoke, looking down at you. "Yes, your highness?" "Your hair is absolutely deplorable. Come, let's get you-" Vil paused, narrowing his eyes as he looked at your hair, his eyes widening. "Are those twigs in your hair?!" "Oh, yeah. I was climbing some trees earlier on a dare from Ace. Riddle was, uh, not too happy about me doin' that." You replied, grinning sheepishly at the Dorm Leader, who just sighed. "Must you always be this messy?" Vil asked, taking your wrist in his hand and dragging you back to his room where he could properly address the rat's nest on your head. Sitting you down at his vanity, Vil skillfully removed the tiny branches that were knotted into your hair, scolding you, however, it was all going in one ear and out the other for you. You were far too focused on Vil Schoenheit's glorious figure behind you, eyes trained on his beautiful form in the mirror as he tended to your tangled locks, nimble fingers brushing out knots before picking up some sort of hair product and a brush. You snapped out of any trance the Pomefiore student held over you when you felt the brush hit your hair, making a sharp yelp spring forth from your throat as the bristles got caught on a knot in the middle of Vil's stroke. "See! This is what I meant! Climbing through all those branches without tying your hair back will cause hideous knots to form!" Vil huffed in annoyance, his chastising tone rubbing you the wrong way. "Well, excuse me, princess!" You huffed, pouting slightly. "Last I checked, I don't always have twenty five different beauty products shoved up my ass at all times, so do forgive me for actually going off and having a bit of fun." "The audacity you carry, little potato." Vil huffed, trying to brush out the knots in your hair without yanking your hair like before, holding your matted locks in hand as he ran the brush through. "You're lucky I rather enjoy your company, I don't do this for just anyone." "Yeah, I know." You said, mood perking up at Vil's more gentle care began peaking out again. "Epel complains about how you pick on him." Vil scoffed, rolling his eyes as you let out a warm laugh, his own smile coming to his face as the beautiful dorm leader ran his fingers through your now silky smooth locks. Plucking a bottle off his vanity, he spritzed you with a rich, fruity smelling perfume; black cherries, raspberries, and caramel praline filled your senses and fluttered around you, clinging to your neck and shoulders. "There, now you look much better, my little potato." The blonde spoke, looking at you with pride. "Picture perfect, as per usual." You replied, winking at Vil's reflection, the actor's smile rising again as you injected that sweet, diamond in the rough personality into him once more. Honestly, at this point, Vil could be utterly addicted to you, if only you hadn't had so many undesirables thinking they could hold a candle to him. "But of course, spudling, you must look perfect if you are ever to be hanging on my arm." Vil said proudly, earning a surprised gaze from you. "Hanging on your arm? What do you mean by that?" "Oh, don't worry your little head over it, potato. Simply a phrase I use here and there." Vil hummed, waving off your concerns. Internally, however, he was screaming, crying and shaking in humiliation at uttering such a slip up. "Uhm...okay?" You spoke, giving the blonde a strange look. "So, anyways, I had a question for you." "Is that so? Well, I suppose I could spare you more of my time, though I do hope you'll make it quick." "Yeah, yeah, I know you're busy." You laughed before you felt your nerves kick in.

Was this really your best idea? No. Were at all confident? Fuck no. Were you still gonna go through with it? Duh, Ace bet you fifty madol, that's good money and you were poor. "I was actually wondering if you'd like to, maybe go on a date with me?"

Cue record scratch. Vil was looking at you like you had grown two heads on either shoulder; his pupils constricted, hand up at his chest like you just shot him, and an utter look of abhorrence written on his features. You weren't winning this bet, and you were currently cussing out Ace in a way that'd make sailors all over the globe blush at your word choices in your head. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" You reiterated, nervously looking to the side before you heard Vil let out a huff. Refocusing on him, you see the gloriously beautiful man frowning at you, his hands on his hips. "Really? That's how you decide to ask me out, prefect?" He asked indignantly. "Uh, yeah? How else are you supposed to ask the most attractive guy on campus out?" You replied, folding your arms over your chest, mirroring Vil's energy. He scoffed at your bratty behavior.

"Prefect, surely you understand the issue here?" "No. Please, enlighten this poor, unkempt potato, your majesty." "It wasn't that you asked me out, but how." Vil stated, acting as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You come in, only baring a hideously messy hairstyle and your charms, nothing to really entice; no flowers, no sweets, not even a love letter! Really, prefect, what were you expecting, putting so little effort into anything?" "I don't know! I was expecting you to laugh and brush it off like other people asking you out!" You exclaimed, now feeling thoroughly wrung out. That tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and all those shitty romcoms Cater and Malleus had gifted you actually sound pretty good right now: all you wanted to do was hide and not come out. "Oh please, I usually verbally lacerate those potatoes, you're quite lucky I'm even considering taking you up on such an offer." Vil huffed, looking down at you with his head held high. "Wait, did you just-" "I'll gladly go out with you, darling, however, I shall be treating you since I know that furry little racoon you live with eats through your funds. I'll be choosing where we go to eat, our outfits and the like." Vil explained, folding his arms and closing his eyes. If you squinted, you could see the lightest of pinks appearing on his cheeks. "I'll simply message you all the details, my dear, you need not worry over such matters. Am I clear?" "You're actually gonna go out with me?!" You exclaimed, looking at Vil with wide eyes, your jaw slack, Vil opening his eyes and pressing two fingers under your chin to close your mouth. "But, of course, darling. This is a gem of an opportunity, and with a few touch ups, you'll be as beautiful as a lotus blossom." Vil said, his voice holding a certain warmth you don't ever recall him using with you. "Although, it will be a few weeks until we can actually go out, but I'll make sure to dedicate the entire night to you when the time comes." "I...uh...w-wow, I didn't- Gosh, this was just- You don't really-" "Hush, spudling. I'll take care of everything, you go on back to your little friends now if that's all you needed of me." Vil cooed, trailing his fingers along your hairline and tucking a stray lock behind your ear. You didn't know how to respond, any of your usual remarks having died on your tongue as you nodded dumbly, allowing Vil to guide you out of Pomefiore with a soft hand on the small of your back. By the time you came back from your little daydream land, you were sat in Ace and Deuce's shared room with the rest of your friends, Grim purring on your lap while you ran your fingers along the grain of his fur.

"So, prefect, where's the fifty ya owe me now?" Ace asked teasingly, earning a punch in the shoulder from Deuce. "Don't say things like that Ace, the prefect's been silent since they got back! They could be dealing with heartbreak!" The dark haired first year said angrily, trying to defend your honor, the sweetheart. "I'm not sure that's the face of someone who's heartbroken, guys." Epel chimed in, looking at your flushed complexion. "Wait...so...I'm not dreaming right now?" You finally spoke, looking around at your fellow first years. "No? What gave you that indication, prefect?" Jack asked, his ears flicking as he tilted his head in confusion at you. "I actually got a date with Vil. He said he'd take care of the setting up everything and then text me the details." "What?! Bullshit, no way he'd do that, you know how far up his own ass he is!" Ace exclaimed. "Language, human! Such vulgarities are-" "Shut up, Sebek, bitch is spillin' tea!" Epel barked, his country accent slipping out as he looked at you, cutting the Diasomnia student off. You sighed, and patted Sebek on the shoulder as you got to your feet, Grim cradled in your arm. "It's fine, Sebek, didn't expect the idiots to believe me, anyways." "I believe it, Vil's nuts over you." Epel said, Jack humming in agreement. "He often stares at you when we're at lunch, I've caught him scowling too." Jack hummed, folding his arms. "He seemed rather happy when Ace and Grim ran off Kastor." "I was ready to pummel that guy, he practically drooled over the prefect..." Deuce sighed, shaking his head. "Wayne's chill, but super not my type." You said, wrinkling your nose. "Yeah, ya like pretty boys." Ace snicked, earning an backhanded slap from Sebek. "Silence. Why do any of you care about the prefects romantic life?" The half fae asked. "Because life's boring and tea is tea." Epel replied, earning an eyeroll from everyone. "Alright, ladies, that's enough gossip, y'all lost your tea privileges. Except for Sebek and Jack, they were good to me." You spoke, earning shocked and betrayed expression from Ace, Deuce and Epel. "What the fuck, we share a club, dude!" Epel whined. "I'm not an official member, lack of magic, so I can't quite play Magift like you guys. Besides, I visit everyone else." "They're actually quite good with the hurdles and long jumps in track and field." Deuce said, perking up slightly. "And they're half decent at basketball, great distraction for Floyd." Ace snickered, earning a glare. "And you whine about me not showing up enough." You sighed, starting towards the door. "Well, Grim and I have to be on our way, gotta study, or in Grim's case, stuff his face with tuna." "Hey, I don't always eat!" Your monster friend barked. "You're literally the reason why we're almost always broke, you're lucky that I know how to cook and grow shit to eat." You huffed as you walk down the hallway of Heartslabyul. Ace turned to Epel, grinning. "So, you got any details?" The readhead asked, earning a groan from the country kid. "I ain't sayin' shit, I like being alive." "Aw, come on!" ==============================================

A few hours had passed since you had left your gossip hungry friends to starve. Head buried in your textbook, you raked your eyes over words your brain simply refused to absorb, the words seemingly blending together after two straight hours of studying with no breaks. A groan tumbled from your throat as you marked your page and closed the book, slamming your head on the desk, the seedling for another migraine being planted. Another groan of annoyance sounded as your phone chimed. Slapping your hand on the device, you checked the messages and allowed a tired smile to come to your face. Vil had apparently arranged for a simple, or what he had deemed as simple, spa date in the Afterglow Savannah. You didn't quite know how to feel about so much cash being dumped on you, but you supposed you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. You messaged a confirmation, and then got back to work, now simply left to wait for the date to come forth and shower you with the spoils of your gall. Vil, on the other hand, felt like he had landed the best role in his entire career! It wasn't exactly everyday that he got to impress his precious potato with his prowess as a potential lover, and ever since he saw Kastor trying to worm his way onto your heart, he's been hungry for an opportunity to present itself. How ironic that it'd be you gifting such a thing to his heart. All Vil had to do now is ensure that this date will destroy any possibilities for any competing suitor by decimating them purely through his own charms and romantic repertoire. Simple, non? Vil felt his confidence skyrocket when you asked him out, the blonde relishing in how your eyes were only on him during the moment, even if your method was a bit bland, but it didn't matter because it was still all you. He couldn't deny that you asking him on a date was what he had been dreaming of for more than the past two weeks, so this was simply golden. The only annoying thing was that Vil now had to deal with the giddiness that would be wracking his bones for the next three weeks, given all the photoshoots his agent had lined up for him. "Damn Bernard, why must he always make things so perfectly lined up in the worst ways possible?" Vil huffed to himself as he looked through his schedule, his eyes staring longingly at the date of yours and his romantic spa day. However, all of this only steeled his resolve. He was going to push through anything and everything to make you his, as was the natural tenacity of a Pomefiore dorm member. Vil Schoenheit had picked his poison, and he was going to down the vial and take whatever consequences that followed, for his heart demanded such a sacrifice for his star.

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