#idk if it counts as cross dressing if it’s just a guy wearing a dress.

[virgothozul]

🌻🌟ahah 😳

[starlitsawamura]

◟♡ ˒ NICOTINE ! synopsis : one night you and your college roommate, mina, go out to a club and meet up with some of her highschool friends. one happens to be the hottest mf you’ve ever laid eyes on. inspired by this fan art.

pairing : fem!reader x tattoo artist!katsuki bakugo. content warnings : consumption of alcohol & nicotine, an annoying man (what’s new?). reader is called: sugar and sweetheart. eighteen plus only. word count : 1.6k

author’s note : it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written and idk how good this is. but i was vibing with it, so i hope you enjoy!

The club Mina had chosen for the night was loud, crowded, and hot. Dozens of beautiful women in skin-tight dresses, you included. The two of you had successfully made it into the club, but getting a drink was proving to be harder. If the bartenders weren’t already busy making drinks, they were tending to people who had walked up before you.

Mina had her back to the bar, elbows up on it to balance herself. She’d mentioned to you that she had invited a couple of friends from when she’d been in high school. This would be the first time meeting friends from Mina’s past because you hadn’t met Mina herself until college.

“Girl I gotta piss, will you order for us?” You tilt your head towards Mina.

She nodded, turning to face the bar as you gave a curt wave on your way toward the bathrooms.

You had to squeeze through the crowd, being hyper-vigilant about touching only forearms if you had to and being careful not to be touched.

You could feel the bass reverberate through your bones, making your heart pulsate in your chest. It even made the tips of your fingers numb. You had to shake them before gripping the cold metal handle of the door.

“Hey sugar,” a guy crosses your path, putting his hand over yours.

Immediate nauseated reaction to him getting in your way.

“Unless you want me to vomit all over you, you’re gonna get out of my way.” Your voice was laced with irritation.

He chuckled awkwardly, presumably from what you said to him. But he still didn’t move.

“Now that’s no way to talk to a nice guy.”

“I call bullshit.”

His face contorted, already ugly, yet somehow became even uglier. “Listen you bitc—”

“That’s enough.”

His voice made the air on your arms stand up. It seeped into your veins, your brain slowly growing drunk off the cadence and timber it had.

The man in your way quickly dropped his hand and moved away from you, bowing his head as he made his swift exit.

Part of you was scared to turn around and see who it was that saved your ass just now, even if you’d adamantly disagree that you needed saving. You gripped the handle harder and looked over your shoulder.

He was tall, with spiky blonde hair. His eyes were blood red, looking right through your invisible barrier. His gaze made your heart drop right to your fucking pussy. He was wearing a dark red button-up shirt with the top four buttons undone, and several inked designs on display. His ears were adorned with many piercings, along with his two lip rings.

You had never in your life laid eyes on a man so attractive. The way he was standing with his hands in his pockets, towering over you. It was as if he held the presence of a deity.

You cleared your throat, bowing your head a little bit. “Uhm thanks.”

“No problem.”

You just stood there, staring at each other for a few seconds, before the corner of his lips turned up into a smirk.

“Weren’t you preoccupied?” He mused.

Your face grew hot, pursing your lips as you quickly pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom.

You thanked every god that it was empty and then cursed every god for letting you make a fool out of yourself. You were still having the hardest time coming to terms with the man you just laid eyes on. You silently screamed into your palms as you leaned against the door. You let out a quiet, yet dramatic sob.

You quickly did your business, washing your hands and pressing the leftover droplets of water on your forehead and cheeks. You needed a reset after that.

On your way out, you caught sight of Mina. Standing a few paces from the bathroom, talking to the man who had come to your rescue. Your drinks were in her hands, so you knew you had to go over there no matter what.

But he wasn’t by himself, aside from Mina, there were two other guys beside him. One with red hair and another with yellow.

Mina caught sight of you, handing you your drink when you got close enough.

“This is the friend I told you guys about. We’re roommates right now. I adore her.” She enthusiastically introduced you to all of them.

“Hey, I’m y/n.” You held your empty hand out towards the blonde.

His hand was big, and could easily wrap around your throat, or grab a handful of ass. But you tried your best to not let that train of thought drive fully at the station.

He was smirking again. “Katsuki. It’s nice to know your name, sweetheart.”

“Likewise,” you squeezed his hand and then kept eye contact with him as you slowly pulled your hand from his.

You watched the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple, his eyes staying on yours while you both took a sip of your drinks.

The air crackled like a live wire between you and Katsuki. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the little smile on Mina’s face as she pretended not to notice said vibe. But that just made it clear to you that she’d had this game plan in mind from the very beginning.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go outside and get some fresh air because it is hot as fuck in here.” You hurried out a side door to an enclosed smoking area the second it left your mouth.

You take your drink with you, gulping some down once the cool night breeze kisses your bare skin. There’s no one outside with you so you take the chance to close your eyes and breathe. The way Katsuki’s eyes bore into yours, burning a path straight to your heart, making it hammer against your ribcage—had you almost gasping for air. You came out to get fucked up and have fun and then have no recollection of any of it the following morning. But now you wanted to stay sober and flirt with a man who could definitely throw you around.

You heard the door open and close and then there was a body beside you, also leaning against the cool exterior of the club.

There was a click and flicker of a flame, Katsuki lighting a cigarette. You listened to him take a drag and then opened your eyes.

“Mina said she was gonna come check on you but I offered instead.” He held out his cigarette to you but you shook your head.

You pushed off the side of the building and moved to the metal railing across from him, using one hand to balance as you leaned against it. In dimly lit space, his jewelry still glimmered, reflecting the light from his cigarette. Anytime he’d wet his lips, you caught a peek of his tongue piercing and that left plenty to the imagination.

“Well thank you for checking on me.”

Katsuki nodded, taking all of you in on his own. You were exquisite, ravishing even, in the small dress you had on. He could tell you were catching the vibe and it only made him want more. He wanted to devour you—as many times as you’d let him.

He didn’t even finish his cigarette before he was flicking it to the ground and stamping it out. He moved closer, taking your drink from you and placing it on an empty table. Both hands placed on the railing on either side of you, he leaned in, head tilted down to maintain eye contact. The heat that rolled off him was seeping into your skin, making your veins burn. His nose brushed yours and you could feel each other’s breath.

You brought a hand up to his chest, mindlessly tracing the smooth black lines peeking out from under his shirt.

Katsuki brought a hand up to your neck, tilting your jaw up with his thumb. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded with a breathless, yes, fisting your hands in his shirt to pull him closer.

His lips were soft against yours and his fingers got tangled in your hair. He was hungry and you were the only thing that could satiate him, of that he was positive. Your body fit flawlessly against his. Something about you had him so intrigued and he wasn’t sure if it was the attitude and confidence he’d seen when you interacted with the idiot from before, or if it was the taste of cherry liquor on your tongue. Or how hungry you were for him as well.

Katsuki wanted to take you home, his or yours, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be in bed with you and he’d take anything you were willing to give him.

You had to gasp for air between kisses, positive that your lips would be swollen or even bruised after this encounter. But you didn’t care because were drinking him in like it was your dying wish and he was letting you. He pulled you in, impossibly close, peppering kisses across your jawline and down your neck. He couldn’t help it, plus he got to commit all your little noises to memory. They egged him on to nibble at the hot skin of your neck, before moving back up to your eagerly awaiting mouth.

Katsuki kissed you so hard it knocked the wind out of you, and himself too.

He took a step back, hand covering his face to hide the growing redness on his cheeks.

“Sorry, I got a little intense there.”

You took a moment to catch your breath, also quite flustered, “I liked it.”

Katsuki dropped his hand and looked back at you. “I’d like to take you home with me, if you’re down of course.”

You knew he would absolutely ruin you and you were absolutely down.

© starlitsawamura ! do not repost outside of tumblr. do not steal or translate my work. for the love of all things unholy, do not share my work on tiktok or wattpad.

[aprilthearcher]

this hope is treacherous [roman roy x fem!reader]

word count: 600 - 700

warnings: ooc roman, perhaps, idk but i wanted (needed) something fluffy after studying for so long. cursing? not edited. english is my first language. i cannot get over this look !!!!!! also not my picture.

masterlist

“Would you ever want a big wedding like this?” 

Such an intimate question coming from him surprises her. She peers at him through her black sunglasses. He has his hands on his pockets, a relaxed stance at first glance; his shoulders moved forwards, curving his back, his head faces the landscape opposite her, as if he was ashamed of the words escaping his mouth. It’s a nervous stance, she deduces after a second, sharper look. Her heart cannot help but to jump faster every time she looks at his pink shirt. 

“I - I mean if you even want to get married,” he continues. “Or are you one of those women who shit on marriage just for the fun of it?”

(Y/N) takes a couple of seconds to respond, wanting to see if he’ll turn his head and face her. He does, then moves his head again to look at the people his mother invited to her wedding with some prick he’s sure is only after the remnants of the money she got from the divorce with his father. He moves his head to, finally, settle his eyes on her. He’d preferred the sunglasses off her face. He’s afraid to dig deeper on the why. He can see she’s getting tired of holding the umbrella one of the organisers gave her — so she could block the Tuscan sun from her head and most of her back — from the way she keeps changing it from one hand to the other. 

“Why are you staring, you weirdo? I asked you a question, it’s only right for you to answer me, you know.” Roman says before taking his hands out of his pockets. He’s about to grab the handle of the umbrella, but changes his mind at the last second; instead, he crosses his arms over his chest to try to cover up the raising of his arms. He realises her dress is the same tone of deep blue that the pants he’s wearing. Roman clears his throat, he feels like he’s about to choke. 

“No way, I mean with all this fucking people? And their ridiculous hats and these ridiculous umbrellas?” (Y/N) gives an answer to the question that’s been pondering over Roman’s mind since that day he got told about his mother’s wedding. Roman found himself thinking — or dreaming, he’s not quite sure — of her later that night. His heart had jumped as the image of seeing (Y/N) in a white dress (was she walking towards him?) and a flower arrangement held by both of her hands appeared vividly on his mind. Roman blamed it on the stress of choosing the future president of the country. 

“So you don’t want to get married.” Why was he asking so much about this? He guessed that by getting his answer, he could finally forget about the vision of her in a white, wedding dress. Now it was even worse. He felt somewhat disappointed. 

“Oh no, I do, but just with not this many people. I'd like something small, in a place where it's sunny but not this fucking sunny. I don't know, I probably wouldn't invite anyone really. just, just yo.. just the lucky guy and I, I guess,” she shrugged her shoulders, averting her eyes from his after almost saying ‘you’. God, she was an idiot. 

“Lucky guy indeed,” Roman whistled before grabbing a glass from one of the waiters’ trays.

They stood in silence watching the guests around them, looking at the other from the corner of their eyes. Roman grabbed the handle of the umbrella from her, making sure it still covered her from the sun, after he heard her mumbling about how it was numbing her arm. She smiled, a contained smile that threatened to become a full grin if she didn’t press her lips tightly. He saw it, but decided not to say anything. A small smirk took control of his face, one that was not mocking, neither sarcastic, but almost adolescent. She saw it when he was looking at his shiny shoes. She didn’t say anything. 

[444rockstargf]

Hey, "high with Clyde" anon here (and high again, funnily enough). Smut you say? I've had a thought circulating in my mind recently. Going shopping for new clothes with Jack Thurlow and trying stuff on for him to rate while he sits all pretty on that couch they have there (y'know, that one that they have specifically for guys doing the exact same thing?) while you model for him. And for whatever reason - maybe his responses have been rather lacklustre and you want his....ahem, "enthusiasm", or maybe just cuz you're devious like that - you decide you wanna rile him up a little bit. So! At the next store, you grab like, the sluttiest outfits available unbeknownst to him, and then model them all for him, feeling all smug that he's practically drooling at you

And when he finally reaches his breaking point, the next thing you know, you got your feet behind your ears and his hand over your mouth so you don't get caught. 🤤 Idk, do with that what you might. ^^

you've done it again, anon 🙌🏽

"i get dressed to ride for you, baby." | jack thurlow

burning desire. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35 @areuirish

female!reader x jack

word count: 1.8k

contents: public sex, unprotected p in v, missionary position, creampie

“you’ve got 5 minutes to try everything on, you hear me?” jack called out as he sat on the small leather couch outside of your dressing room, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms and slumped into the seat knowing full well you were going to take your precious time trying on every single outfit. so much for a "fun" shopping trip.

inside the small room, you had an assortment of clothes in front of you, ranging from long flowy gowns to dark blue baggy jeans and designer sweaters. a top-tier selection of clothes but none of which were to jack’s taste. but you decided to test your luck anyway.

minutes later, you stepped out and stood right in front of him, wearing your first dress. “how’s this one, jack?” his eyes were downcast, looking at something on his phone. you tapped him on the shoulder, only earning half of his attention. “hm? it looks nice, dolly.” you pouted, moving your hand to his chin to make him look at you. “but you didn’t even look at it.” he moved your hand away, looking you up and down with an unamused gaze. “i said it looks fine. now are you finally done so we can get out of here?” 

you rolled your eyes, walking back into the dressing room and slipping off the dress. you picked up a skintight black dress that was so long it dragged on the floor. surely this one would grab his attention, you thought to yourself as you paired it with a white, button-up sweater. you put on a pair of light-brown heels that were hidden by the fabric, stepping out once again and patting his cheek. 

“what about this? is this one better?” you gave him a little spin, giving him a full 360 degrees of your body in the tight dress. he gave a little smirk in response. “yeah if you wanna look like a nun, i guess. is this the last outfit? i don’t think i can listen to the music in here any longer.” you huffed, discouraged at how nonchalant he was. “yes, im done.” you muttered, walking back into the dressing room to get back into your normal clothes.

you walked out of the dressing room empty-handed, leaving everything behind since none seemed to give you the reaction you expected from him. he took your hand, dragging you out of the store and back into the main mall. “good riddance,” he muttered under his breath. “can we go home now, angel?” your eyes scanned the assortment of stores surrounding you until they landed on one that would surely sell clothes that would blow his socks off.

you shook your head. “not yet, i just wanna go to one more store. please, just one more place?” you begged, staring up at him as he groaned. “only one more. you head on inside, i’m going to grab a coffee. i’ll meet you in the dressing room.” with that, he released your hand and let you go your own way. 

you dashed into the store, immediately pleased by the outfits in the display window. you wasted no time picking up everything you saw, picturing the look on his face when he’d see the clothes on you. you walked into the dressing room, starting to change into one of the outfits as you heard his voice.

“you in here, doll?” he said as he sipped on his hot drink, waiting for a response. “i’m here, jack. just gimme a sec, okay?” he nodded, immediately realizing that you couldn’t see his answer. he sat down on the seat in front of your dressing room, sighing as he scrolled on his phone. “this damn girl…” he whispered to himself. then he was interrupted by the noise of you walking out, standing right in front of him.

you didn’t have to tap him to get his attention this time. his eyes were caught by the shiny black thigh-high leather boots you had on. then his eyes traveled up, first landing on your dangerously short pleated skirt and low-cut tube top that showed just enough cleavage to make his breath hitch (this is the outfit). you placed your hand on your hips, looking down at him as he swallowed hard, immediately putting his phone down and gripping the seat.

“now i’ve got your attention.” you remarked smugly. “you like this one, jack?” you took the words out of his mouth, his cheeks covered in a bright pink stain as his mouth gaped open. he cleared his throat, nodding nervously as a stupid little smile tugged at his lips. “y-yeah, this one’s nice, baby. give me a little spin, will ya?” your face lit up and you twirled, making the skirt lift up just a little as your heels clicked on the ground.

jack squirmed, shifting his position so he was sitting with his legs crossed, suppressing a painfully obvious boner. you grinned triumphantly, happy that you could break his cold, hard exterior. you walked back into the room, making that sad that you were going away but excited to see that next set of clothes you’d have on.

minutes passed and jack found himself impatiently tapping his foot as his mind ran wild with thoughts of you wearing such intimate clothes just for him. his hard cock was straining against the rough denim of his jeans, making him groan quietly as he placed a hand on top of his bulge to calm the throbbing sensation.

his foot began to bounce on the ground with anticipation, and soon enough he couldn’t take it anymore. he sprung up from his seat, pushing the curtain of your dressing room to the side and popping his head in. “are you done in here?” you jumped slightly, startled. but jack’s eyes became as wide as saucers as drool began to drip down his lips. 

you stood in front of the mirror, wearing a small tennis skirt with a plaid pattern on it, paired with a white silky shirt that was more revealing than your bra. and your cute little feet in those white knee-high socks didn’t help the matter either (the outfit). “jack! i’m not done in here yet!” 

he walked into the room, approaching you with a lust-filled haze as you backed into the wall behind you. he closed the curtain of the room, pinning you to the wall and pressing his body into yours, his boner pressing into your stomach. you gasped, the heat of blood starting to pool in your core as he grabbed your face and pulled you into a very sloppy kiss.

“goddamnit, woman… you just know exactly how to drive me crazy, don’t you?” he grabbed your ass, lifting you off the ground and making you wrap your legs around his waist, your clothed, throbbing clit now in contact with his pulsating bulge. you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you again, this time using his tongue to tease yours with his gentle flicks.

your hips began to grind on his, desperate for even the smallest amount of pleasure to still your nerves. jack groaned deeply, whipping out his cock and pumping it quickly. you glanced down, seeing that his girth had nearly doubled in size because of how swollen it had gotten. he rubbed his leaky tip on your silky panties, feeling your wetness through the thin fabric.

you let out a shaky moan, grabbing onto his muscled biceps as he set you down on the wooden bench that was meant for clothing. he pushed everything else off, leaving room for only you as he pushed your legs behind your head, the wet spot on your panties much more conspicuous in this position.

jack bit his lip as he grinned from ear to ear. “that’s my little model…” he trailed a teasing finger down your cleavage until he got all the way down to your dripping wet cunt. he replaced his finger with his cock, getting off from the feeling of your wet folds hungrily attempting to swallow him.

“guess we should get these out of the way, huh?” he slipped his cock underneath the thin string that covered your pussy, breaking it away with a light tug. your breath became shaky as the cold air hit your grooling cunt. jack spat on his thumb, rubbing messy circles onto your clit as he lined himself up with your hole.

the tip slipped in effortlessly, along with the first few inches. you moaned quietly, making jack clamp his hand over your mouth. “it would be a shame if we got caught in here, wouldn’t it?” with a low groan, he pushed in the remaining inches of his rod, making your eyes well. with his jeans down to his ankles, his hips began slapping into yours.

your eyes rolled to your back on your head as the perfect curve of his dick made him reach nothing but your cervix. you felt your drool bubbling all over his hand as deep, heavy breaths escaped from his parted lips. his large cock abused and stretched out your tiny hole, much to his pleasure.

his fingernails dug into the back of your thighs as his balls slapped your asshole with every deep thrust. your hands found his wrist and forearm, gripping the skin tightly as a white-hot knot began to tie in your stomach. jack’s orderly thrusts quickly lost their composure as your muffled moans made his core boil.

strings on precum connected him to you each time he pulled out. he flipped his hair out of his face, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed back curses that threatened to break free. “s-shit… that’s it, baby… takin’ my cock so well…” 

your back arched as you ground your hips against his, desperately chasing the orgasm that was just in your reach. your gushy folds hungrily ate up his cock, making him toss his head back. “use my dick, angel…just like that.” you brought your fingers to your clit, sobbing into his hand as you felt yourself cumming all over him. he grabbed your hips, fucking you at lightning speed as his balls sagged with cum. in a matter of seconds, he was filling up your tight, swollen pussy with loads upon loads of his hot seed.

he pulled out of you, watching as his cum cascaded out of your hole like a milky waterfall. you panted breathlessly, slowly regaining your composure as jack tucked his cock back into his pants before getting you all cleaned up as well.

you put on your clothes, looking at the mess you two had just made in a public residence. but before you knew it, jack was out of the dressing room, carrying all of the clothes you tried on. you walked behind him quickly. “where are you going?” jack smiled back at you. “to the cashier. i look forward to my little model putting on a show for me every night.” he dumped the pile of clothes onto the counter, the cum-stained skirt above everything else like a cherry on top.

author's note: thank you "high" anon for the request! istg I rlly didn't mean for it to get so long

[kiddbegins]

He Won't Stop Staring - Will Halstead | 18+

prompt: “Why are you so worked up?" "Because they wouldn't stop fucking staring at you like they wanted to eat you." not requested

word count: idk

warnings: female reader, smut - [literally everything - oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, brief fingering..]

A/n: …. Yeah idk I think I got possessed or something

Masterlist

Will was what you could call the jealous type. Just a smidge. And by a smidge, it was a lot. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he saw someone making goo-goo eyes at you he felt his heart race in his chest and something take over before he butted in and swooped you away.

He didn’t make a habit of it. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you, no it was other guys he didn’t trust. Especially not the guy sitting at the bar that was making clear sex eyes at you even though he was sitting right there.

You paid no attention to it, knowing that what you were wearing was hot and that if it got Will turned on then it was sure to pull other people’s heads, men and women alike. “Will, eyes are over here baby,” You coo softly, a light laugh.

Usually you’d be saying that if his eyes were lingering on the cleavage of your shirt or dress, not when he was shooting daggers across the room at some guy that hadn’t even spoken a word to either of you. “C’mon, why are you so worked up?”

His eyes trailed up your hand as you put it over his, following up your bare arm until his eyes found your face. “Because, he won’t stop staring at you like he wants to eat you.” He didn’t hide the annoyance in his voice, the squeeze of his hand the only thing keeping him from going up to the guy and giving him his two cents.

With a sigh you lean forward, looking up at him, “Yeah well he doesn’t get the opportunity to do that now does he?” You raised an eyebrow at him, nodding your head to the exit. You guys had already paid for everything, just nursing the end of the last couple drinks that you’d ordered.

Through clenched teeth he sighed, “No he does not,” In seconds he was out of his seat, his hand tightly in yours as he pulled you out of the restaurant. His lips were on yours by the time you hit the side of the car, moving together the way they always did.

“Wait til we get back to your place,” You gently pushed him back, his eyes falling down over you as he pressed one last kiss to your jaw before rounding the car and getting in the passenger seat.

Will tried his hardest to keep his hands to himself during the drive, putting his hand possessively onto your thigh and keeping it there. The urge to move it higher was strong but he didn’t want to start something that he couldn’t finish until the two of you were upstairs.

The second you heard the door lock you tossed your shoes and bag to the side, just in time for Will to grab your waist and lift you up. Your back pinned to the wall as he pressed into a steamy kiss. He couldn’t help it.

Everything that kept him sane and cool had gone out the window and pure primal instinct took over as he sucked hickies onto any spot he could get his mouth on. “You…” He trailed off, sliding a hand along your thigh, pushing the dress you were wearing up. “Are mine.”

He held onto your hips as he pressed his hips into yours, groaning against your skin. “All mine.” Will’s words faded into the back of your mind as he rolled his hips against yours again, the slight friction only making your legs tighten around him.

“Will please-“ You breathed out, head loling back as his hot kisses crossed your throat, his nose trailing up as he pulled back to look at you.

There was pure lust in his eyes, he couldn’t even see anything through it. He was straining against his pants, hearing your soft gasps sending all of the blood going south, the friction helping immensely.

You put a hand on his cheek, kissing him roughly, “I’m yours. All yours.” At your words he pulled away from the wall, pulling you to the couch, in too much of a hurry to carry this on down the hall.

As soon as your back hit the fabric of the couch, Will was stepping back, his jeans and boxers coming off in one fell sweep as he leaned over you, letting you have the opportunity to pull his shirt off of him.

Once it was off you leaned forward, kissing his chest, before sliding down lower, hands sliding over his hips. “You’re the only one I want.” You mumble, looking up at him through your lashes, his breath hitching the second your hand wraps around him.

You’d sucked him off before but now it felt so, so personal. Like you had something to prove but not to him but for him. That you loved him more than anyone you’d ever known.

One long lick up his length sent chills down his spine, his body instinctively twitching forward. “God…” He breathed out, his eyes falling on you as you gave soft little kitten licks to the tip, smearing the precum around with your spit.

It didn’t take much for him to come undone, the warmth of your mouth as you slowly took him on had him mewling, his hand instantly sliding into your hair, grasping tightly. “You feel so good baby..” He let out a low moan, doing everything in his power to keep himself from fucking into your mouth.

Slowly you slid down to the hilt, your tongue circling as you pulled back up, lowering back down repeatedly. He tugged at your hair, knees almost buckling as you held onto his thighs for balance and leverage as you bobbed your head faster, craving to bring him just to the edge.

“Fuck, you keep going like that I’m gonna cum right now,” He clenched his jaw, feeling himself pulling closer and closer.

You pulled off, looking up at him, “Uh-uh, I want you in me when you do that,” You said low, your voice like honey as he reached down, pulling the panties off of you easily, your dress still sitting up at your hips

No matter how many times he saw you, Will still looked at you with big love filled eyes, even when he was seconds away from fucking your brains out.

“I swear you’re like an angel,” He muttered, leaning his knees against the couch as he lined himself up with you, reaching to grab your hand. “You ready?”

As soon as you nodded he pushed in, feeling you squeeze his hand as your legs parted more and more the farther in he got. As soon as he bottomed out he let go of your hand, bringing his to the side of your face. “Look at you all pretty and laid out for me.” He leaned forward, kissing you before rolling his hips up, smirking at the moan that slipped your mouth.

You reached to try and cover your mouth but Will instantly reached up, shaking his head, “No, I want to hear every little sound my girl makes.” He practically demanded, rocking his hips faster, pulling another moan from you.

“Will-“ His name fell off your tongue easier than anything you’ve ever said before. Your hands went to his shoulders, grasping on tightly, sure enough leaving imprints of your nails in his skin. “God you feel amazing,” Your head leaned back, trying to press any closer to him.

He gripped at your hips, tight enough there would be bruises in the morning, as he fucked into you faster, the moans and whimpers pushing him as far as he wanted. “You’re so beautiful.” His lips attached to your neck as you tried to hold him a scream.

With each movement he was pushing you closer and closer, the inevitable orgasm building up in your stomach, “Shit Will, I’m gonna-“ He shook his head slightly, his movements slowing down.

“Only when I let you.”

Your eyes met his as he pulled a hand, his thumb just ghosting over your clit, the feeling almost enough to send you over the edge.

As your hips bucked you looked up at him, “Will please, I need you,” You begged, holding the eye contact as he circled around you, in time with each movement.

He raised an eyebrow, setting you up to fail as he relentlessly attacked your clit, watching you squirm, bite your lip. Your cheek. Everything to keep your pleasure to yourself. But you couldn’t.

Your mind went black as you clenched so tightly around him, you were surprised he didn’t follow right away but instead his thrust picked up, fucking you through it.

The room spun as he continued to touch you, watching your eyes roll back, your back lift, thighs fighting to not press together.

“Will, please-“

“Oh I’m sorry, is this not what you wanted? To cum so bad?” He looked down at you, not stopping as you left scratches down his back.

He shifted the two of you, his hand going back to rub your swollen clit once you were situated , his dick further inside of you, the change of angle and pace giving nothing but another wave of pleasure to your body.

Your eyes screwed shut, not minding at all that he was using you the way he wanted, only caring that he was pushing your legs so far apart that you knew you’d be sore in the morning.

It only took a couple minutes before the familiar feeling built up in your body as strings of his name fell off your lips. “Go ahead baby, you’re doing so good. My girl taking me so well,” He leaned down, cooing into your ear.

The shiver of his breath went right to the spot between your legs, sending you right over the edge a second time, Will kissing at your neck as he gripped the back of the couch.

He was close himself, the feeling of you around him, the wetness and the sound of your mewls and moans bringing him closer and closer. He pulled back to look down at you, fucking you through your second orgasm as he felt himself getting sloppy.

You looked up at him, letting out a light breath, “Please cum in me,” You asked softly, those four words tying the knot that sent him overboard. with one final thrust he collapsed forward, a loud string of swears slipping from his mouth as he released inside of you.

His hips bucked against yours a couple more times, earning a whine from him before he pulled out, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you.” He said so firmly, with such passion that your heart felt like it grew a thousand times.

“I love you too,” You said back, leaning the rest of the way into the kiss. He grabbed each side of your face, both of your chests heaving and slick with sweat as he reached back to undo the back of your dress.

A light smirk on his face he looked up at you, “I have one last idea if you’re down for it my love,” He cooed, his hands dancing along your back.

Even with the lack of breath you nodded, still craving his touch. “Please,” You muttered, Will instantly leaning to pull the dress clean off of you, lifting it over your head.

“Alright, you remember what to do if it’s too much yeah?” He pressed a firm kiss to the front of your throat, leaving a mark before dipping lower across your collarbone.

Faintly you nodded, breathing out a sigh, “Tap your shoulder twice.” You answered, feeling his hand slide up your thigh. A million and one thoughts were running through your mind, every single one being replaced as Will pressed a finger into you.

A sharp gasp left your lips, back arching into his lips as your hips twitched towards him, still sensitive as he twisted his finger inside of you. “Good girl,” He hummed, sucking clear marks down your chest until his face was aligned with his hand.

His breath hit your skin, him looking up at you as he left more kisses on your inner thigh, inching closer to your pussy. “God Will…” You whined out.

The sound of his name once again leaving your lips had him sliding a second finger in, pumping in and out strategically. Of course he knew how to use his hands, he was a doctor. Past plastic surgeon. He could lead you to another orgasm with his eyes closed.

Will’s tongue swiped along your clit, circling it slowly as he watched you fall apart under his touch. Your hips twitched up, his other hand coming up to push them down, holding you against the cushions as he replaced his fingers with his mouth, devouring every single bit of you.

The mixture of you and him inside you was heaven, his mouth moving quickly. He put your legs over his shoulders, looping his arm around them, using his first two fingers to rub against your clit as his tongue worked across you.

“Fuck, fucking-“ You practically screamed out, your hands falling into his hair, holding tightly. “Will-“ No other words came to mind as you were filled with his touch.

It didn’t take long for your legs to shake, heels crossing. As your third orgasm ripped through you as you wet his face, trying not to grind down on his tongue, his nose bumping your sweet spot as he looked up at you, not stopping until you told him to.

If he could stay between your legs for the rest of his life he would, it was probably his favorite part of the night. Tasting you, being able to bring you into the trembling state with just his tongue.

It was blissful. As he worked you over, openly ready to build you up for a forth time you reached out, tapping his shoulder as your heart hammered in your chest.

He was off of you in seconds, instead leaning up to put a hand on your cheek, “Are you okay?” He asked softly, looking down at your flushed and fucked out face.

Slowly you nodded, “Mhm, jus’ need a minute,” You breathed out, your legs and hips sore. Will stroked a thumb across your cheek before shifting onto the couch.

“How about we call it a night? Come here,” He lightly grabbed your hand, guiding you over to him to lay against his chest. “Rest a little and we can get up to take a shower in a couple minutes,” His hand raked through your hair comfortingly, his eyes never leaving you.

You smiled and nodded, “Okay,” You slightly lifted to look at him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

:)

[chronically-ghosted]

delicious

rating: T (for cursing and drug use)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 2160

summary: in order to make a fundraising event bearable, you and Dieter take edibles. When the event runs long, your only chance to make it out alive is to find something to eat. 

warnings: drug use (it’s just edibles c’mon you narc), eating, the munchies, messy kissing, dieter bravo being a giant goofball and i hate him, this fic is so self-indulgent i'm embarrassed FOR you, FLUFF

a/n: this one kicked my butt, idk why. But @ravensmadreads says its good so here you go. For my 100 followers event (this is the last one! wow!): @sp00kymulderr asked: Taylor!! Congrats on 100, you’re my favourite blog honestly I check your posts every day just to read your tags lmao. For the celebration can I request some of our sweet boy Dieter with the prompt “We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.” it’s absolutely perfect

🤍Masterlist

After thirty minutes, your eyes are starting to cross. Your high-ribbed dress pinches the soft skin under your tits and the boob tape is starting to chafe your nipples. The ruby red heels have officially given you blisters but the worst – the absolute worst of it – you’re fucking starving.

And the Layaway Barbie at the podium marches on, her big eyes wet and her mouth begging, as she proves to a roomful of donors why they should spend another million in . . . tree-frog rehabilitation. Dieter had been drawn to the little green guys with red eyes on the front of the invitation and as the guest of honor for his “philanthropic” work when he was “dating” a Doctor Without (personal) Borders six years ago, how could he not go?

Let’s take an edible before we go, he said. 

Whatever the vibe, it’ll be better if we’re on edibles, honey. 

That is the last time you let him convince you of anything while he’s not wearing pants and his hand is down yours. 

Your stomach grumbles and you fight back a whine. You make a noise like that and someone will definitely know you’re on drugs. The portly man next you has been staring at you with poorly hidden disgust all night as it is. But for now, his eyes focus in on Layaway Barbie, his loose jowls around his permanently down-turned mouth reminding you of a cartoon character. But which one?

Your eyes narrow at him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and it comes to you.

“Droopy!” you yelp and immediately clap your hand over your mouth. Your table mates eye you as if you are some society dredge they did not wish to involve themselves with. 

You turn as best you can in your seat, ready to either be scolded by Dieter or have him laugh with you, but he does neither.

In fact, cross-armed, low in his seat, he lets out a low snore. 

It’ll be fun, he said. 

“Dieter!” You hiss. Nothing. His face is relaxed, lips parting as he falls deeper asleep. Irate you didn’t think of it first, you smack him across the knee. “Dieter!”

He jerks, eyelids cracking open briefly, and suddenly he drops his chin again.

“Thank you for your blessing and influence, oh Lord. Am— oh, hey, baby, what’s up?” 

“Don’t ‘hey, baby, what’s up’ me. You were asleep and you just faked praying.” 

“Better than faking other things,” he yawns loudly, blinks a bit, and realizes the “inspiring” speech (and presentation) is still going on. “Oh, fuck, we’re gonna die here.” 

“Can you please keep it down?” The woman to Dieter’s right snaps. “You are making a mockery of a serious and pressing issue facing our society.”

Dieter blinks at her, his arms still across his chest. You can hear the bitch climb up his throat before he even opens his mouth.

“Well, you’re making a mockery of that dress and you don’t see me complaining–,”

You snag him by the hand and pull him away from the table before the woman has the good sense to throw her drink into his face. 

He stumbles behind you as you push on the metal bar, the latch clicking, and you both tumble out into the empty hotel hallway. When the event started, everyone had been herded in from the other doors, where the lobby was. This looks like the kind of hallway drunk co-eds wander down while trying to find the bathroom after prom. 

Which – ironically –

His big paw clutches your waist as he falls, or rather, stumbles into a tacky maroon and gold wall. In the fumbling under his legs as they overtake you, and keeping the rim of your heels from biting into your already puckered flesh, he manages to pin you beneath him. The instant the smell of his cologne washes over you, the instinct to claw his stupid eyes out evaporates. You sigh, both of his hands cupping your neck. 

“Mhmm, there she is,” he murmurs, sing-song, kissing your nose. “Little hellcat turns baby kitten when she gets what she needs.” 

“You are the biggest idiot I know,” you purr into his ear as his hands slide through the layers of your skirt to your ass. 

“Yes, but I’m your idiot.” The cry you let out when he pinches your ass cheek beneath your dress is all the answer he needs. 

Hands full of your thighs, he rubs you up the wall but there’s too many layers, too much gossamer to get him where you need him. His breath comes in short pants as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your shoulder, your clavicle, your cheek. 

There it comes again. Hunger. Driven on by –

You bite him.

“Ow!” 

He pulls back and your mouth drops open in horror – you didn’t mean to bite him that hard and –

Your stomach lets out the most petulant growl. 

Hand on his neck like it’s bleeding, Dieter follows your gaze to your stomach as if it had called his name.

And then you both break out into side-splitting laughter. 

He eases you down, giggling, his nose pressed to your temple. Were you at home, the sex would have probably continued, but the atmosphere would be different – playful, teasing – he once did a Kermit the Frog impression while balls-deep inside of you and you laughed so hard you instantly came all over him. 

“Baby,” he sighs through his teeth and kisses your hairline. “I know. I’m so fucking hungry.” He snaps his teeth by your ear and you push him back by his chest. Two goddam years of dating this moron and he still makes you blush like you’re fifteen and necking with a band geek. 

His fingers wrap around your wrist to hold your hand above his heart, kissing your knuckles. He sucks your thumb once before you yelp, and he pushes your fist into his hair as you try to squirm away. He smirks into your neck.

“Dieter!”

“I’m hungry!”

“You’re the one who suggested we take edibles before coming to this thing.” 

“Mhmm, let’s go home and do more drugs.”

“But you owe me dinner. Five Guys?”

“Baby, I have to eat something first to have enough stamina for that.”

“Oh my god, you –,”

He bites you on your earlobe again, grinning as he comes behind you to nudge you down the hall. “I know what you meant. I’m down for burgers, but I want, like, five.”

“Me too. Carry me? My feet hurt.”

“Of course, mah kwehn,” he nods as he scoops you up across his broad shoulders, momentarily taking on the affectation of Jon Snow and his loyalty to the dragon queen. 

You’re working to kick your heels off as he marches the two of you down the hallway and you’ve nearly gotten your second heel off (the first in your lap) when he suddenly stops. 

“Oi, Thomas, we’re not at the train station yet,” you grumble as you reach for your heel, awkwardly tucked under you and his arm. “Keep it going. Choo choo, you know?” 

He still isn’t moving. You frown up at him, another transportation joke at the ready, but his wide-eyed stare gives you pause. 

“What are you looking at?” You turn in his arms, hunger now officially twisting your stomach painfully. “Why’d you–,”

Your mouth falls open. 

Beyond two double doors at the end of the hall sits a silver cart, loaded with tiny chocolate desserts. 

You swallow the spit flooding your mouth. This time, his stomach grumbles as if to add to the argument. 

“Dieter, put me down.” He all but drops you. 

“Dieter, we can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“We shouldn’t.” 

“Why?”

“You’re only saying that because we’re both high as fuck right now and I’d eat bathroom soap if I could.” 

That seems to rattle him out of his starvation-induced stupor. He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Please, when have I ever not eaten something I wasn’t supposed to?” 

You blink up at him, now several inches shorter without your heels. “What? None of that made sense.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going for it.” 

He strides past a very wide hallway branching back towards the lobby of the hotel, no doubt where several waiters intended to roll dessert out to the waiting reception. They’d be back at any second, but either due to being higher than a kite, his own innate lack of shame, or a combination of the two, Dieter is across the hallway in seconds and he snatches up two of the little chocolate spheres and shoves them both into his mouth at the same time.

“Holy shit, they’re cream puffs.” 

Your hunger nearly doubles you over. “C-cream puffs? Those are m-my–,”

“Your favorite. I know. Mhmm, fucking get over here.”

Trembling from a lack of food and nerves, you slink over to him, hand out-stretched. He’s already had four more by this point and he’s stacking more onto a single plate as your fingers squish around one right in front of you. You pinch and the gooey white cream eases out the side. You whimper. 

Dieter pauses, the tips of his fingers stained with dark chocolate and a dollop of cream on his cheek. 

“That’s the sound you make when I eat you out.” 

Rather than answer your boyfriend, you pop the cream puff into your mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pastry melts on your tongue.

“Oh fuuuck.” 

Dieter watches with growing concern as you scarf down pastry after pastry. “Okay, now I’m a little offended you’re so turned on by this.” 

“Shut up, and let me eat.” 

In minutes, the silver cart is empty. Chocolate smeared across a dozen haphazardly-arranged plates, dots of cream littering the spaces between plates and on the edge of the cart, it looks like a fucking war zone of confectionery. 

You find yourself breathing heavy, your face and arms covered in the guts of those poor, poor baked goods. Dieter isn’t faring much better, his jacket stained and beard sticky. Your hunger is sated, for now, but you think of burgers and fries and a vanilla milkshake and immediately turn to Dieter, who stares back at you with wide eyes.

“I want six burgers–,”

“We should probably leave before we start a scandal–,”

You stare at each other, soldiers shell-shocked, rehabilitated werewolves in horror of their bloodshed. Bloodlust.

The second you get home you’re gonna give him the kind of blow job that stops his heart.

Half-way laughing, half-way crying, you take him by the collar, further smearing chocolate over the starched white linen and his neck, and kiss him soundly on his conspicuous mouth. He giggles through the kiss and cups your cheeks, his massive hands sticky and warm. 

“We should go . . .” he murmurs again before pressing his lips to you again. Cream puffs or no, it all tastes better when you lick it off the corner of his mouth. 

“We’re gonna have to walk past the lobby,” you bemoan into his patchy beard. Dieter smirks and without warning, squeezes your right tit, leaving a very clear chocolatey handprint on your dress. 

“Dieter!”

“C’mon, baby, I wanna devour you. And I want all of them to know it.”

That was the thing about Dieter Bravo, he never did anything small. He never allowed you to feel small. He was obsessive about taking pictures of you, posting them everywhere, never ashamed of you and desperate to have the world see you the way he did. 

Like you were delicious. 

“I’ll buy you six burgers if you let us walk out like this.”

“Deal.” 

Grinning like only a man with nothing to hide can, he takes you by the hand and leads you back towards the very fancy dinner you’ve both no doubt been kicked out of. 

Something rises up in you the longer you stare at his broad back. 

“Dieter, wait.”

He pauses, turns, and crumbles slightly beneath the weight and intensity of your kiss.

“I love you,” you say before he can slip his tongue into your mouth. 

Dieter Bravo does nothing small, is nothing small. Except when it’s just you and him and the words you just uttered hang in the air between you. A small, hesitant smile expands across his lips, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing but it warms him nonetheless.

“I love you too.” 

He kisses your nose and you sigh into him. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him. But then you might just eat him alive.

“Burgers, Dieter.”

“Right, right. How many do you think we can buy at one time?” 

You both ignore the paparazzi and their cameras as you walk hand in hand, your heels in your other hand, with Dieter out the front door and into the limo, arguing about which fast food joint would let you get at least twenty burgers. 

Nothing about Dieter Bravo is small. Especially his appetite. 

[bubuslutty]

Day 5: progress report

this is part 5, all parts

pairing: angel/demon!fem reader x 141

word count: 2.4k

tags: supernatural elements, no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warnings: body horror (no gore or overly graphic descriptions)

summary: Angel has to give a report of her progress, we finally meet 2 more characters + a bit of Wish Angels lore

a/n: sometimes im sooo shit at naming chapters 😭 but anyway, do you guys have any name ideas for the office man cuz at the moment he's nameless, like does it bother you he's nameless? or should I give him a name? eh idk. Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed this chapter/serie, means lots 💖

⚠️ I can't seem to be able to tag some of you, please scroll down and check the spelling of your username if I accidentally misspelled it, if I didn't, have a look at your settings or let me know if you changed your username.

At first, it was Angel standing in the middle of her room, the blinds drawn shut, the windows closed and the door locked. Then there was burning wind, unbearable heat and swirling lights coming out of nowhere. She parted her lips, her canines growing sharp and two sharp horns growing out of her skull, ripping her scalp like wet paper and immediately sewing itself like nothing happened.

Her furniture was shaking, the ground vibrating and her walls cracked open. Angel didn’t seem phased, nor was Kuromi, who was curled up on the bed, lazily blinking and watching her owner change form in real-time.

Then it was a long black and sharp tail that grew, making her gasp and arch her back. Angel blinked, her eyes getting wet in corners and then after a while, her black pupils spilt over her irises and her eyes turned violet over white. Smoke spilled over her pink lips, escaping her throat and clouding her sight. Then with a thundering crack, she hunched over and pitch black wings broke out of her back, taller and wider than her body.

Her ceiling broke in the middle, her roof collapsing on itself and making a hole above her, where she could see swirling dark colours and flickering lights.

“I’ll be back by dinner.” Angel said over her shoulder, looking at her cat before she spread her wings and jumped, leaving through the giant hole in her ceiling, and as soon as left, it closed up in a blink and the room was washed by natural darkness again, no shaking, no weird lights, no wind or heat, just her room with her cat napping on her bed.

.

.

.

When Angel reappeared again, she found herself in a dark alleyway, in front of a closed door with a single man standing in front of it, arms crossed and sporting a poker face. Angel pulled her short dress down and walked towards the man.

“Wish division number?” He asked.

“5852.” Angel answered and he gave her a nod, stepping to the side as the door opened by itself, letting the demon in.

Angel entered what seemed to be a club in a basement, it was dark and hard to see beyond what the colourful flickering lights allowed you to see. It looked like just any other club, booming music, drunk and dancing bodies. But the closer you looked, the longer you looked, you start to notice that a woman is staring straight at you from the end of the room. There was a man that no matter which angle he turned, it was impossible to see his face, and he wasn’t even wearing a hat. Some people seemed to be taller, bigger, than an average human, some limbs seemed to be longer, other shorter, some looked like they had a third, fourth, sixth eye and some didn’t look like average humans but unrecognisable creatures.

The sight didn’t phase Angel at all and she walked straight to the bar, ignoring someone who flew past her. Angel settled herself on a stool, her tail wrapping itself around a leg, the bartender immediately noticed her presence and walked over, a grin on his lips.

“Well, look who decided to show up after what? Three months?” The man said, and so far, he was the only one who looked the most human out of everyone.

“I missed you too.” Angel grinned, resting her chin on her palm.

“The usual?” He said, already taking out a new glass.

“The usual.” Angel confirmed with a smile, looking around the place.

“So… Why’re you here?” He asked, mixing her drink.

“For work, I have to give an in-person report of my progress.” Angel said, watching the man work.

“I heard that your assignment has 8 humans on it, what’s that all about?” He asked, glancing up at her with a small smirk.

Angel rolled her eyes, “Who told you about that?”

“News travels fast around here.” He hummed, handing her the drink with a wink.

“Yeah, I have to earn the favour of 8 humans.” She said before taking a sip of her dark glowing drink, humming at the taste.

“You have to fuck 8 humans, is what you mean.” He corrected her, aggressively wiping the counter.

“Whatever, same thing.” Angel shrugged, unbothered.

“You always get these types of Wish Assignments, it’s always you.” He pointed out, pursing his lips and frowning.

“You’re jealous?” Angel raised a brow, lips on her glass and took a sip, without breaking eye contact with the man.

“Me? No way. I don’t want to be the victim of your powers, that shit’s freaky, and not in the good way.” He said, shuddering.

Angel frowned, “You believe I use my powers to directly seduce humans?”

“Obviously, that’s how it works.” The man laughed.

“I don’t directly use my powers on humans. Never did and never will.” She said and the man snapped his mouth shut.

“I thought it was just rumours, but you really don’t- Angel, what the fuck.” The man said, trying to grasp how she manages to fulfil so many wishes without using her powers to seduce men and women to do whatever she needs them to do.

“Not all Wish Angels are obligated to use their powers to directly influence humans, it’s not in the rules, even though most Wish Angels prefer to use their powers, but I don’t, it’s a matter of personal choice.” Angel explained, her voice cool.

The man gaped at her, not believing what he just heard. Angel silently watched him and sipped at her drink.

“So, they really just…You always complete your assignments without using your powers on them?...” He mumbled.

Angel grinned, her sharp canines glinting under the lights, “Yeah, remember when I told you I was really good at my job?”

The bartender almost swallowed his tongue and started coughing, his face burning in embarrassment and arousal.

Angel noticed someone familiar in the corner of her eye and turned her stool around, waving a man over, "Hey! Over here!"

It was the same man that Angel went to when she first received her assignment, his hair sticking in all directions and an irritated look on his face before settling down on a stool next to her.

“Give me whatever’s strongest, please.” He told the bartender, and ran his hand through his hair, sighing.

“Why don’t you act normal for once and email me instead of summoning me in this…this place?” He glared at Angel, turning his body around in his stool to face her.

Angel grinned, "I just wanted to take you out from that shitty office you spend weeks in."

The man stared at Angel and sighed, turning his body away from her and instead staring forward, at the bartender working on his drink.

"How's that assignment going so far?" He asked Angel.

"In general or should I go through each human I've interacted with?" Angel asked, mirth swimming behind her haunting violet eyes.

The man hissed, "You've been a Wish Angel for 200 years, what do you think?"

Angel giggled, "I was just teasing you, relax." She nudged him in the shoulder with one of her wings, making him grab his head in both hands.

"I'll start with John Price. So far, he's been pretty respectful and polite, nothing much has happened between us, give it time and he'll open up." Angel started.

"So he hasn't shown any signs of attraction?" The man asked, raising a brow.

"He did, very subtle and small signs though, but he's still reserved, unlike his boys." Angel added.

"Who broke first?" He asked after thanking the bartender and taking a sip of his clear blue drink.

"Johnny MacTavish." Angel smiled.

"What happened?" The man hummed.

"Flirting, he's obviously interested. I can sense wariness from him, though."

"He doesn't trust you?"

"Maybe, I have a feeling he's trying to see me, and what kind of… person I am, he doesn't want to be taken advantage of, either."

The man sighed when he gulped all of the drink down and raised a finger to get a refill, "He'll crack soon enough."

Angel hummed, "Gaz is also interested, he'll crack soon enough, I imagine he would wait and see if anyone would make a move on me and figure out what type of situation they're in."

The man glanced at Angel, "And what then? What would you do if they pull away because you've already got one of them?"

"Don't worry about that, I know exactly what to do." Angel smirked and the man blinked at her, his eyes falling on her lips and quickly looking away from her face.

"Ghost is also pretty closed off at the moment, nothing has happened yet but he'll get there. He's okay with having me around so that's a win." Angel said.

"That makes four of them, what about the other four?" He asked, intrigued to know if she had a plan for when the other four would join the picture.

"Well, I already know that two out of the four humans I haven’t met yet know that I exist, so there’s that.” Angel revealed with a grin, and lifted her empty glass to request a refill.

The man raised his brows in interest, “Really?”

“Yeah, things are starting to get more and more interesting.” Angel said, feeling excitement pulse under her skin, and her tail started swinging from side to side.

The man didn’t miss the movement of her tail and sighed, “Is that all you have for me today?”

“Yep.” Angel nodded, popping the P.

The man gulped the rest of his drink and stood up, “If that’s all, I’m going back to the office.”

“The office? Really? Why don’t you hang back and have some fun, hm? Loosen up? Dance a bit?” She suggested, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing, tilting her head to the side.

“No, thanks. I’ve got work to do, and so do you.” He shook his head and pulled his jacket down to smooth out any wrinkles.

“Alright, I’m going back.” Angel said, standing up and stretching her wings with a groan, eyes clenched shut.

“And Angel?” The man said, making her eyes snap open.

“Yes?”

“Take care.”

“I will.”

.

.

.

Earlier, during the barbeque

The potato salad was delicious, Angel realised as she ate more and more spoonfuls. It wasn’t anything special, but it was delicious. Johnny knows how to cook, that man knows how to use his spices and herbs very well.

“Angel, don’t just eat vegetables, have some meat.” Price laughed when he noticed her standing by the table, a spoon in hand and eating away at the potato salad like a raccoon. She was still wearing her bikini and a pair of slippers, her green bucket hat still on her head, keeping her hair away from her eyes and mouth.

Angel was snapped out of her trance by John’s deep laugh and blushed in embarrassment, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise for enjoying food, come here and bring your plate.” Price said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at her.

Angel wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grabbed her plate, walking over to the grill and hummed when she could smell the scent of well seasoned meat. “What do you want?”

“Uhm, I think I want the chicken skewers, please?” She asked, eyes glued to the grill. Price watched the woman with a small smile, amusement swimming in his eyes and placed two chicken skewers in her plate, “Enjoy, and don’t hesitate to come over and ask for more, alright?”

“Thank you, John.” Angel smiled up at the man and went to sit at the table in the middle of the garden, filled with drinks, cups, sauces and other salty snacks.

“Can I sit here?” Angel stood next to Ghost, pointing at the empty seat next to him. The man nodded, mouth busy chewing away at a chicken thigh, mask hunched up on the bridge of his nose.

Angel happily sat down and ignored the nasty scar at the corner of Ghost’s mouth and the scars on the skin of his neck and the others high on his arms, and how he was the only one wearing a t-shirt, well Price was wearing an apron because there’s no way he will be standing in front of the grill shirtless, but Soap and Gaz were shirtless, only wearing shorts with slippers and a hat for the sun.

The woman was happily chewing when Soap came back from the toilet, happily making his way to Price and getting his plate filled, “How’s the potato salad?”

“Soooo gooooooddd!” Angel said, giving him a thumbs up and he grinned, his grin brighter than the fucking sun blazing in the sky.

“Gaz did you season the chicken skewers?” Angel asked the man sitting in front of her.

“Yeah, is it good? Do you like it?” He asked, biting his lower lip and looking up at her through his eyelashes.

“Absolutey divine.” Angel said, placing a hand on her chest and fake fainting on her chair, moaning at the taste.

“Cap, leave that grill alone and come sit down with us.” Gaz said, waving the man over.

“I’m calling Ale and Rudy.” Soap suddenly said, grabbing his phone.

“Don’t bother them now when they’re working.” Price scolded the man, as Angel watched them with interest.

Soap kept staring at his phone until he started grinning, “ALEJANDRO!”

“It’s 7.30 in the morning, pendejo.” A deep voice came out of the phone, making everyone laugh around the table.

“Alejandro…” Another deeper voice, softer, said making the first voice cough.

“How’s England treating you? It looks like you’ve been graced with some sun today!” Alejandro said, and Johnny flipped the camera, pointing it towards the grill.

“We’re having a barbeque, today!” Soap said.

“Enjoy it, you deserve it, hermano.” The other voice said.

“Thank you, Rudy!” Gaz said.

“Come visit us someday when you get the chance, okay?” Soap told the man.

“We’ll try, Johnny.” Alejandro said, making Soap nod, “We’ll let you go now, guys say bye.”

Soap pointed the camera towards all of the men as they all waved at the camera and wished the men a great day.

“Wait, is that the one you were telling us about?” Alejandro said, making everyone freeze, including Angel, her mouth open and a chip between her fingers.

“She’s very pretty...” Rodolfo added.

“Shut up, she can hear you!” Soap hissed, almost dropping his phone.

“Bye, Soap’s neighbour!” Alejandro said loudly and laughed before Soap hung up, turning 3 different shades of red.

Angel laughed, “Bye!”

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear @silviafantin15 @marvel-ness @bobastayhigh

[ofbluesandyellows]

Black Cat's Curse - TASM! Fem! Reader

Summary: Peter Parker has been cursed, crossing paths with the oh so feared black cat isn't exactly in his itinerary, and no, we are not talking about or favorite lady, Felicia. On Halloween night his bad luck has prodded him to the solution he didn't know he was looking for.

Word count: 6,537

Warnings: cursing, witchcraft (lol idk)

a/n: Hi! I'm back with a lil Halloween story for you, this one fully came to me last week. It isn't anything crazy but I do hope you enjoy it. Happy Halloween y'all. I adopted a black cat recently so maybe that's where the inspo came from. Bye :)

“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” Spider-Man was about to drop to his knees, to beg. And he never begged for anything in his life, other than bringing Ben back to life.

“Ow Spider.” Her finger with a long perfectly manicured nail traced his spandex covered clavicle. “Yes, they call me Black Cat but it doesn’t mean I know how to undo your bad luck. That’s on you and the poor black kitty you crossed paths with.”

“But whenever I get unlucky it’s always because of you, how come this is different?”

“Hey, don’t come to me with that bullshit, that’s just how things are, you should’ve known better. You’re on your own Spider.”

Peter closed his eyes, not that Cat could see him but he needed a second not to throw a punch at her, he knew she’d dodged with ease but he didn’t want to risk it. Exhaling he was about to humiliate himself once more, turning around Cat was long gone.

“Mother fuck-“ a splash of what he knew was bird poo painted the red spandex of his forearm with sickly yellowy-white. “Seriously?” Arms up in the air, no one to reply back.

Peter Parker wasn’t a big fan of Halloween growing up, he always went for the uncool type of costumes, he clearly remembered asking aunt May to buy him a white wig so he could dress up as Albert Einstein when he was about eleven. Uncle Ben ended up buying him white color spray and a fake mustache so they could DIY the look. Knitted burgundy vest, faux wrinkles on his face and the already perfect bushy brows made Peter the happiest kid in the block.

He was beyond ecstatic with the way his costume turned out, adults praised him and aunt May for the effort when he went trick or treating but the real menace were kids’ nasty words and funny remarks about him. After that he either went with a boring costume, he preferred to fit in, or at least try rather than be laughed at. 

It was obvious that the teasing continued up until college, but college was bearable compared to what he had gone through since he became Spider-Man.

Peter hadn’t been in need of a costume for years now, that was the main reason why he liked Halloween now, he could walk around as a civilian in his actual suit, no one batted an eye in his direction during this day.

Flash Halloween party was crazy loud, Peter didn’t know these many people were friends with Flash.

“Hey Spider-Man!” His heart skipped a beat, but Flash was smiling at him. “Peter, you made it!” 

Peter took the mask off, he thought this would be funny, wearing his actual suit was comfortable but now he was regretting it, he had several mini heart attacks whenever called him by his alias. He felt sweat dripping from his back. Yeah he would need to wash the suit.

“Of course man! I promised, right?” he laughed trying to disguise the panic.

Flash was wearing a Beetle juice costume, a pretty epic one if Peter could have an opinion on it. 

“I see you went all in with the costume huh?” He snatched the mask off Peter’s hand. “Nah this isn’t as good as the original.” Flash laughed.

With cherry colored cheeks Peter chuckled. “Yeah, I bought it at Walmart. Everyone seems to love the guy so I just thought why not?” 

“I’ve seen worse Parker, like the guy dressed as Alex Turner? Pfff lazy.”

“Really? I haven’t seen him. Don’t tell me it’s Harry the one dressed like that.” Peter said amused.

“Almost, but no. Harry hasn’t shown up yet, bet he found some expensive costume made suit and will pull off a ‘I’m Leonardo DiCaprio in Wolf of Wall Street.””

Both boys rolled their eyes. “Wouldn’t be surprised.” 

Suddenly Peter felt cold dripping from his back. 

“Hey dickhead, watch where you are going.” Flash was the first to talk, pushing a drunk David Bowie out the way.

Peter was in shock, how come he didn’t notice, why were his senses not alerting him of the guy at his back.

The smell of sweet fruity punch and vodka lingered on his nose. 

“Shit Pete, do you want to change?” 

Peter shook his head, lipped smile on. “No, don’t worry I’m good. Just going to grab a beer.”

“Ok, if you need something just look for me, okay?” 

“Sure, thanks Flash. Cool party by the way.”

Flash grinned. “Thanks Parker! See ya around.”

The lights were kaleidoscopic, New Wave music playing, it was a lot and now his suit was wet and cold and there were pretty girls around, and he couldn’t concentrate in one thing. 

Fuck me.

Tuning around as he dodged a group of girls dressed as fairies he clocked eyes with a witch. She was sitting on the couch with other people, Peter wasn’t sure if she was with them or not but the staring sent shivers down his spine. 

She gave him a lipped smile, one he tried to emulate, not succeeding because she dropped her expression. The next thing he knew it was that she disappeared. 

He shook his body to try and get rid of the odd feeling. Finding a beer was easy, what wasn’t easy was held in the need to puke when the warm and obviously outdated beer’s taste hit his tongue. 

Peter sighed, he was tired of this, it hadn’t even been a week with this black cat curse and he was already done, no fight with Electro nor Vulture had done him this wrong. Sloped shoulders and a bitter taste he was ready to go home. 

Exiting the loud house in Brooklyn, Peter’s eyes found the sparkly ones of a witch. 

A new wave of shivers appeared as Season of the Witch played at his back. Spooky as shit.

“Okay, this is worrying me.” He mumbled.

The girl approached him in two long steps. 

“Hello,” you smiled, showing him your pearly white teeth. 

“Um hi?” 

“Sorry to bother you, I saw you in there and if you don’t mind me saying this… you look like shit.” The apple of your cheeks tinted pink. 

Peter scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I didn’t need to hear it because I do indeed feel like shit, so if you excuse me,”

He took a step to the right to make his escape, but you took the exact same side as he did.

Peter scowled.

“I—I don’t want to sound crazy but you do have like a bad aura around you, you know? Like a dark cloud following you, and… okay yeah I’m going to say this with the risk of sounding like an insane person but I promise you I am not—“

Taking a cautious step closer, you were too close for Peter’s liking. On your tiptoes you angled yourself to reach his ear.

“You are cursed.” 

Peter felt his body freeze, his eyes went wide just as goosebumps formed on his skin.

“You… how did you know?” Peter stumbled back a little. 

“As I said, I can see it.” You took a jump back. Your face went back to a soft smirk. “Need help with it?”

Peter looked around, the streets were busy still, it wasn’t even midnight yet.

“You know how to revert it?” 

“Sure thing. It’s a simple spell.” 

“Can you do it now, like chant it or whatever.” 

You scoffed. “Hell no! It’s a bit more complicated than that,” balancing on the balls of your heels you stared at him. Peter was mulling with the possibilities. You were weird as fuck. But he didn’t feel the Peter tingle as it was. He only felt wary. 

You had this cute smile and very bright eyes. If Black Cat couldn’t do anything to help him, why not take his chances and accept the help of an actual witch.

“Are you like a real witch?” He squinted. 

“Yeah.” 

“Fine. What do we need to do?” 

You grinned, joyous. 

“Follow me Peter Parker.” 

Shrugging, you said: “Flash told me.”

“You know Flash?” Well, that was news to him. He never expected him of all people to be close with a witch.

You seemed offended. “Um yes? We take bioengineering together.” 

Peter almost choked on his own saliva. “You go to Empire?”

“Yes, I’ve seen you around, you’re friends with that rich kid that always looks at the rest of us as if we were dirt under his shoe.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh when Peter scrunched his nose. “That sounds like Harry.” 

“Osborn is not always nice to everyone.” 

Peter knew that but Harry wasn’t a bad person he just hadn’t been given the attention he deserved.

“So bioengineering, huh? You’re pretty smart I assume.”

“It helps with the witchcraft thing, believe it or not.” 

Peter could see why. He grabbed his mask a little tighter.

“Oh.” 

Peter heard you say, a second later a car passed by full gas, the puddle of dirty water splashed wetting his legs. 

“You could’ve warned me, you know?” shaking his legs only made the water go down into his converses, wetting his socks. He needed to come up with a water repellent suit.

“Right, sorry. Never seen such a curse before. The grayish hue around you goes purple whenever something is about to happen. It’s kinda awesome.” You grinned.

Why was this woman always so cheery? Peter sighed and continued walking.

“Do you have a name or should I just call you Witch?” 

You chuckled. “I do have a name but Witch is way more fun. And it’s Halloween, it fits.” 

Peter grimaced. What a time to be cursed.

Both hopped on a bus after walking three blocks.

“Are you hungry Peter Parker?” 

His stomach felt like growling. “I could eat.”

“Nice, I’ll order some pizza. It should be there when we arrive.” 

Peter saw you texting. He noticed for once your whole attire. Pointy hat with purple ribbons and tulle decorating it. You had glitter smeared on your cheeks and eyelids. The dress was black tulle as well with a sparkling touch, he wasn’t sure what it was. The tights had black and purple stripes with a nice pair of black Dr Martens. It was like a modern version of the classic Witch costume he’d seen in movies. 

It suited you, what it didn’t match was your always happy features. Peter wondered if you were in fact a witch or just pretended to be one for the sake of the holiday.

“Do you like mushrooms?” You found him staring. Your cheeks went a tone deeper in red.

Peter panicked and looked out the window, far away from you. “They’re fine.”

“Good, I ordered half pepperoni and half mushrooms.” 

Humming, you, witchy girl unlocked, your phone and started to play…

“Sudoku? Really Witch?” Peter grinned, this was so odd to him.

“I like it, it keeps me on my toes.” you giggled.

Unintendedly, Peter kept an eye on the game, finger pointing to one square and mumbled “there has to be a nine.”

The grid sheet sparkled after you pressed the 9 in. “Nice one, Peter Parker.” 

“Just call me Peter.” 

Your eyes locked on his. “But Peter Parker sounds more interesting.” You nudged him, making him laugh. 

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks.”

•••

Peter sat in the living room. The apartment was simple, it didn’t even feel witchy at all. It smelled fresh and there was some kind of lavender sent around.

“What? Disappointed?” You laughed at his face.

“A little, yes.”

“It’s 2023 Peter Parker. I don’t have cauldrons and a crystal ball.” Your witch hat rested comically on the kitchen counter.

“So what kind of witch are you, then?” Peter spoke with a mouthful, the pizza was incredibly tasty.

“I’m not one kind, I just do what I want to do.” 

Peter nodded. 

“Careful with the—“ 

Peter’s slice of pizza fell on his converses. He thought he’d been clever by not using his spandex lined boots.

“Shit.”

“I tried to tell you.”

He peeled the slice from his black chucks. “Can I get another slice?” 

You pushed the box his way. 

“How did you get cursed?” You asked, nibbling on your lip, the pizza resting on a plate on your lap, untouched.

“Crossed the path of a black cat.” He grunted. “Sounds stupid but it’s what happened.”

“Been there. I’ll fix it, it shouldn’t be hard” 

Peter straightened. “How long is it going to take?” 

You stared at him. Peter could almost see the nuts turning in your brain.

“A few hours, I suppose.” 

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Maybe?”

Peter had multidimensional war flashbacks from Doctor Strange, and the other Peters. Yeah he wasn’t in. “Well, now that I’ve had time to think about it I remember why I don’t do witchcraft. You need to find another way. I’ve had my fair share of that and it was quite the hustle so no Miss Witch I think I’m good.” He gave you a lipped smile.

“Okay… um why don’t you tell me about it, I assure you this is completely different and safe.”

“I’m not legally allowed to talk about it, so…” He shrugged. “Also you said it can hurt. I’m not down for that."

“Ugh fine, Peter Parker, but if you go, the curse won’t go away, you’ll have to live with it.”

Peter looked down, considering all that had happened maybe you were right, it’s not like he hadn’t suffered enough to handle a little magic.

“Fine.”

You got up in a jump, disappearing inside a room. Peter heard rattling and the closing of drawers. He wasn’t sure what to expect so he tried to not think about it. 

After another two slices of what he considered a perfect pizza, Peter put the plate down on the coffee table. The table cracked in two as if some almighty froze had cut it in two with a really sharp invisible blade.

“How the fuck?” He squealed, holding both sides of his face with his hands. This was nonsense. He didn’t even put force. 

“What happened?” You appeared behind him. “Oh… well I needed a new coffee table anyway.” 

You went away humming again. 

“Insane… she is insane.” Mumbling Peter crossed his arms, trying to not touch or breathe too hard, anything could create a domino effect and make the building collapse or something worse. He could die if he forgot how to breathe!

He guessed that wasn’t possible but he was not going to risk it.

The skin on his back felt sticky but he didn’t dare to move. After a moment you cleared your throat to announce yourself.

“So Peter Parker, I’m going to ask you a few questions…. It's protocol only.” 

Sitting down at his feet, you flipped a few pages, grabbed a pink sparkly gel pen and wrote down in pretty cursive calligraphy. 

Peter Parker. 

Cursed by crossing paths with a black cat :(

“You do this often or-“ he asked.

“Nah, but it’s nice to document these things, who knows when I will need the information.” You beamed, clearly excited by the whole situation.

“Sure,”

“So, have you been cursed before?” blinking, you waited for a response.

Peter wasn’t sure if his Spider-Man issues were a curse, sometimes it felt like that to be honest.

“Not that I’ve been aware of.” He leaned back on the couch. 

“Have you killed people in the past?”

His face contorted, now that was a hard question.

“It’s… um not voluntarily… I mean no, of course no” he let out a pretty fake laugh. “But I saw my uncle die and my… my girlfriend too.” 

Your face dropped. “Sorry about that.”

He half shrugged, looking the other way, he was not going to cry in front of a witch, this was humiliation enough.

“Er, next question. Do you have allergies?” 

“No.”

“Experienced dizziness, or a rush of adrenaline in the past forty-eight hours?” 

Peter squinted, these were very specific questions. “ Yeah, but what does that have to do with the curse?”

You shrugged. “See if there are side effects.” 

“The adrenaline thing isn’t for the curse… I have a stressful job.”

“That responds the next question… so how long has it been since you got cursed?” your head rested on your palm, you reminded him of that one therapist aunt May forced him to go see a few years ago.

“Three days, maybe four.” 

“Hmmm, interesting.” 

“Why?”

“Hmm? Oh well, cats don’t just go out crossing people’s paths like that. Most times they have a reason. Have you wronged a cat in your life?” your knee going up and down nonstop, Peter noticed the nervous thick. He had several.

Felicia could count as a cat but she had wronged him more than he had her.

“No.” He scoffed. 

“Ok, didn’t want to offend you.”

Peter let out a breathy laugh, this was the craziest shit that he had experienced and he had gone through a lot of fucked up shit in his life.

“Please come with me.” 

You stood up with a graceful jump. Dress puffing with air. Peter stared at your hand extended to him. The moment he took it there was this tingly feeling that crossed his whole body. 

You grinned. He glared.

The room you got in was pitch black, a breeze came from somewhere, it smelled like incense. With the snap of your fingers a yellow hue covered the room which was not more than 80 square feet, seemed to be a closet.

Three candles were floating, Harry Potter style. His hand went over the flame no wire attached to them.

“Am I hallucinating already?” He said. Hand now going under the candle he was in awe.

“Nope, we haven’t started yet.” You chuckled. “And those are totally real. It’s a very easy spell.” You said proudly.

“Cool,”

“Sit on the floor.” You demanded, Peter obeyed.

With a bright pink dust, you painted a circle and a bunch of indecipherable symbols that Peter preferred not to know what they meant. Instead he focused on you; your smooth hands tracing patterns as if it was second nature. Your lips were tuned slightly upwards, it was obvious how this made you feel. Peter felt his own lips curving. 

Hmm… he frowned, that was not right. But his mind was taking over, your long lashes with specs of glitter resting on them. Hair, shiny and soft looking. Peter kind of wanted to brush it to the side with his fingers. Shaking his head he couldn’t be thinking such things, he didn’t even know your name. And you were a witch!

And you are a fucking Spider-Man, chill the fuck out Parker.

Great! He was going insane now.

Snapping your fingers, music started to sound. 

“Is that Fiona Apple?” Peter asked, throwing her a quick glance,

“Yes! She gives off the right vibe for this.” Your sly smirk made Peter’s stomach flip.

Oh no.

Squaring down, to be on eye level with him, he caught the very faint scent of cherry. 

“I’m going to give you tea, It’s going to make you a little dizzy and jittery.” Extending your palm, you showed him two little rocks. 

“What’s that for?” Peter took them either way. 

Your index finger pointed to a clear looking crystal. “That’s clear quartz, it clears the mind, attracts positivity and repels negativity. The orange one it’s citrine for positive mood, clarity and focus.” 

His chocolate eyes never left yours, for the first time the whole night your smile quivered. You needed to gain some distance. You stood up quickly.

“Whatever happens, don’t let them go. And you have to have them around until the next new moon. Understood?”

Peter sighed, whatever helps him get over this. “Got it.”

You opened a book with a crimson hard cover. A sage green cup rested on the wooden table in front of you. Your back facing Peter, he let the little crystals roll on his palm as he heard Fiona Apple’s voice mixing with the cooing spell you were casting. Words he had never heard got whispered inside the cup, the energy in the room changed in a second, the yellow hue became brighter. 

Peter’s body shivered when you went back kneeling before him.

“Drink this, you have to close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so, okay Peter Parker?”

Peter nodded, gulping as he took the cup. It was warm to the touch. The liquid inside looked like any other tea aunt May had made him before, a little cloudy but it had a nice smell.

“I added a little honey and it’s spearmint flavored.” You chirped. 

“How many times have you said you have done this?” Peter was really curious, it came pretty natural to you. 

“Oh this is the first time, but I’m sure it’ll go almost perfect.” 

“Jesus, that’s just what one would like to hear in these situations.”

“Come on Peter Parker, this is fun!” 

“Cheers, I guess.” 

Peter drank the whole thing in one go and the taste was surprisingly good.

He sat there waiting for something to feel different but nothing changed. 

“How you feeling?” You asked, looking him in the eye.

“Should I be feeling weird?” he replied, trying to pay attention to his body. Everything was the same. He opened his eyes.

“Shit, you are supposed to be experiencing something by now. And you drank the whole thing,” you stomped your foot on the floor. “I did everything the book said.” 

Quickly, you went back to the book to check the spell as if it was a recipe. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” Peter sighed. “Hey um, this is going to sound weird, but, would you like to… I don’t know, like go for coffee one of these days?” your eyes went wide, big as saucers hearing him ask. “Or not… I mean I was just suggesting.”

“Don’t move Peter Parker.” You squinted, Peter felt something on his arm. 

“You opened your eyes!” She squealed. 

A spider, the same spider that bit him years ago was walking up his arm, then there was another and another, all of them crawling upwards.

“Holy fucking shit.” Horror stained his voice. But Peter couldn’t move. He didn’t know if he was able to feel his body.

“You are Spider-Man for fucks sake keep it together” you cried. “Told you to keep them closed."

In a swift move you grabbed a few vials filled with dust in different colors. Peter was wide eyed, gawking, unmoving about to have a heart attack.

“I can’t move, help!” his voice high pitched. 

“Shut up Peter Parker, I’m trying to think!” 

A marble mortar plopped on the table, a mix of colors and sparks flashed across your face. 

“Sorry for what’s next but you can’t move and I’m not in position to kill our city’s hero.”

Grabbing the dust on the mortar, you put the bright blue dust on your lips as you fell on your knees in front of Peter. Careful not to ruin the pentagram.

Leaning forward you said,

“The spider you see is just in your mind, you are hallucinating for real this time, that’s why i told you to not open your eyes. Wish things were different but this is it, Peter Parker.”

“What?” 

“Good luck.”

You clashed your lips with his. In a second Peter felt his whole body tingle, like he was having a serious case of pins and needles. Involuntarily his palm went up to rest on your cheek. Warm and soft. Cherry scent, and blueberry taste. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you, the crazy girl he met a few hours ago at the halloween party.

A sharp turn. Just like when you twirl in one spot until you feel the whole room shake and you are in that state of happy dizziness. Peter felt like that and he kind of enjoyed it. 

When the motion stopped fully he opened his eyes. Blinking he reincorporated, he didn’t know he had been lying down this whole time. 

Spider-Man’s spandex suit still plastered on his torso just that the room was not the tiny room he had been in. 

“Peter?” 

“Aunt May?” 

“Breakfast is ready!” 

Peter rested on his elbows, he was in his room in Queens. He was in Brooklyn just a second ago. And, why was he even here? His apartment was in Manhattan. 

Shaking his head he peeled the tight suit off, his body complained, a common thing by now. Taking a quick shower he saw the water run down the drain, little hints of bright blue in them. He shook his head, migraine settling behind his eyes.

“I had no idea you were staying the weekend Peter, you always let me know.” May dried her hands in the kitchen cloth as she looked at him with fond eyes. “You scared the hell living out of me last night when I heard you in your room.”

Peter frowned, he didn’t remember how he got in, he wasn’t even sure what happened after he saw Flash at the party. Late that night he found two shiny bits of crystal on his bed. His mind screamed at him to keep them near.

Until the new moon, right?

Glimpses of what felt like dreams were trying to tell him something, most days Peter woke up with the feeling that he had forgotten something but he pushed it aside, there wasn’t much time to think of Peter problems when there were Spider-Man real problems. 

It took him six days to notice his bad luck had disappeared, he felt lighter than ever, he even got a rise at his job which was hard to believe. Cat hadn’t been involved in trouble and Peter didn’t need patching or stitches for the week, he was doing amazing.

One night during patrol. He was sitting on a building in Brooklyn, there had been a fire two blocks down, no one had been injured so Peter left the scene before the police arrived. Now his legs hung on the edge of the six story building. Phone in hand. Flash posted the party’s photos, he laughed at one where a group of guys dressed as the one and only Pitbull were carrying Flash as he threw pumpkins shaped confetti in the air. Flash knew how to have a good time, Pete gave him that. 

The next photo was one where he could see himself at the back, he barely noticed it was him, the spandex gave him away. But what caught his attention was the pointy hat, purple ribbons floating. His heart increased its pace. 

•••

Flash was doing some drills at Empire’s gym. Sweaty and all, he greeted Peter with a hug and a laugh.

“Pete, you left too early the other day!” 

Peter’s cheek went warm. “Sorry, yeah I wasn’t feeling well.”

“No problem. You want to play? For the good ol’ days.” Flash chuckled.

Peter remembered high school as if it was yesterday.

“I have class in like twenty minutes, but next time. I was just wondering if you knew the name of this girl I met at your party.”

Flash smirked, nudging Peter on the ribs. “I see why you weren’t feeling well huh? Parker.” 

Peter scratched his neck, this was so awkward, he didn’t even know the girl.

“What she looked like?” 

Peter’s image of you was very vague, he remembered the costume, but nothing else really.

“You have an idea how many girls dressed like that were at the party? I need more intel Parker.” 

Peter closed his eyes for a second. “She- um she said you were taking bioengineering together,” 

Flash huffed, making the basketball bounce. “I’m not taking bioengineering, Peter. Don’t think girls take that class anyway… trust me I’d remember.” He winked.

“Really? Because she was very sure of it.” He laughed, out of pure agony.

Have you been like a dream or something?

“I think someone made you look like a fool Pete. But there’s always more girls.”

“Right, no, you’re right. Um, I’m going to get going. See you later man.”

“Take care Parker!” 

Making his way back home, Peter kicked a can with all the force he managed, it landed inside a trash can. He blinked, shit that was quite lucky. He felt not so lucky when there was no space in the subway to even move your legs, at least it was warm in there, the November wind was getting tougher by the day. Headphones on, he put the music in shuffle. 

In starlit night I saw you

So cruel you kissed me

your lips a magic world

Leaning on the cold metallic tube in front of the doors, he sighed looking at his converse. He needed to give them a wash, those ketchup stains were not making it look any better. His fingers went to his eyes, scratching the corners of them, he could sleep right there if he was sure no one would steal his phone but instead he concentrated on his surroundings. Phone screens shining, Instagram posts passing rapidly, text messages getting deleted and retyped, sudoku grid…

Sudoku grid?

His stomach churned. He had these images like photos archived in his brain. He remembered the sudoku grid, the number 9 for some reason, mushrooms, pink dust, floating candles, a green mug, and a smile. That smile had haunted his dreams for days now.

The owner of the phone had a bright yellow coat. Peter froze just creepily staring at the person.

Next stop was a commotion, people going out, some more coming in. Peter lost yellow coat for a moment only to see it going out with the sea of people.

“Hey!" he shouted. Desperation in his voice. “Yellow coat!” 

Only feet away now, he saw the person go up the stairs. His heart hammering against his ribcage, what was this, why was he so anxious for the person to turn?

Crossing a busy street, he took his earphones off, seeing for one last time yellow coat get into a taxi, mixing in the traffic. 

Peter sometimes really thought he was the most intelligent person in the world. He decided to follow the taxi, this time in Spider-Man clothes. Web shooters full and ready, cold wind wasn’t even a bother, he had perfected the suit to be warmer on winter days. 

Swinging up to Brooklyn’s bridge had been easy, the problem being on which of all the taxis he saw was yellow coat in. 

Running and shooting webs caused lots of honking and almost made a man crash his car thanks to the little kid trying to come off the window to say hello to him.

“Sorry!” He apologized, as he flew by. 

Last taxi entering Brooklyn was his only chance, this better be it. As he plopped as softly as he could on the roof of the car, he bent over to take a peek on the backseat windows. 

He grinned under the mask. Knocking on the window he saw shiny hair flick, and sparkly eyes connected with his white buggy ones. Waving a hand at you, your eyes went wide. In a flash everything came back to him.

The curse, how you feed him and basically cured his bad luck with a blueberry flavored kiss.

Stealing his heart with that, it was absurd yet magical, Peter wasn’t surprised no more with what happened in his daily life.

“Roll the window down?” He made the motion for you to do so.

For a brief second Peter thought you were not doing it, but you did, wind made your hair dance and oh Peter’s heart shivered with joy.

“Witch!” He greeted, still looking at you upside down.

“Peter Pa- Spider-Man!” you smiled, in awe.

The taxi driver rolled his window down too. “Dickhead, get the fuck down of my car!” 

“Just drop me in the next block.” You said, throwing the man some money.

Peter jumped off the car just as the taxi slowed down. 

“Freaks!” The man shouted at them, his middle finger sticking out the window as his goodbye.

“Thank you kind sir!” Peter saluted him.

You snorted by his side. Pivoting on his heels, it took him a second to take it all in. 

“You disappeared,”

“I didn’t disappear, I helped you get home Peter Parker.” You grinned. Oh that smile, Peter wanted to squeeze your cheeks.

“Um, no, that’s not what happened. I was lying in your room, and then you kissed me and then I woke up at my aunt’s? For a moment I thought I was losing my mind.”

You were staring at him amused. “It was fun, right? I know I had a lot of fun that night.” 

“Don't be mean.” Peter’s hand flew to his chest, as if he had been hurt for real. “I even asked Flash about you, and you lied, you never went to Empire.” Hands flying in the air, as he spoke.

“First of all. I do go to Empire, Flash is just not a very observant person.”

“Right, so tell me why you did all this?”

"I had to fix it okay!” Your eyes locked on your shoes. 

“Spider-Man hi!!” A group of teenagers waved their hands at them on the other side of the street.

“Hello, guys!” He had to be kind to the fans, being the beloved neighborhood hero wasn’t an easy task after all. “Have a good day.”

“You are the shit bro!” One of them shouted back.

“Do you mind if we talk somewhere more private?” Peter said through gritted teeth.

You bit the inside of your cheek to not laugh. “Ok.”

Peter took the opportunity to grab you by the waist, in a fast and smooth motion he was flying through Brooklyn.

“This is not what I had in mind.” You squealed against his spandex covered neck, he felt your breath hot on his skin. 

“Oh you owe me, this is the least you can do for me Witch.” 

Peter wowed as they moved between buildings. Landing on the roof of an old cinema. The neon lights casting pretty shadows against your face and the suit’s texture became alive. He took the mask off to reveal the sweetest of smiles. Cheeks rosy.

“What can we do about this?” He asked, arms spread wide, he was falling for someone who he barely knew.

You hid your hands inside your coat, wind biting on your skin harshly. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Peter sighed. “How was it supposed to go? You said you had to fix it, what do you mean by that?”

Why were Peter’s eyes so pretty, his face was a mix of pain and hope, your stomach felt funny again. It had been like that since you first saw him. A month ago.

A blue moon was something you always enjoyed. Making moon water, charging crystals, manifesting and writing spells. 

But Orion, your black cat had been angsty for days now, he always was like that during full moons. He destroyed your quilt, the one to knit together with so much effort. So you let him out.

“Get out! If you could, I’d make you fix this to make me happy!” The window closed with a thud and poor Orion blended in with the night.

After trying to fix it but failing with the quilt you felt guilty. Orion was simply trying to let that energy out, and you took it against the poor thing. After much thinking you decided to go out looking for him. Orion’s name got pronounced several times until you saw him crossing the street a little ahead of you, it was three in the morning. Cars weren’t even passing, the world was still, sirens and honks chimed far away. 

Orion locked eyes with you for a moment. And you knew this was a bit of a dare to him, squatting down you tried to prod the cat to go to you, but Orion only sat in the middle of the sidewalk, liking his paw almost making fun of you. One step closer was what set him off running again. Just in time for Spider-Man to pass walking; half mask up munching on what seemed to be a burrito, mustard on the corner of his mouth, he came to a halt when the cat crossed his path. You saw Spider-Man gulp. 

A moment later his burrito fell flat on the pavement. You knew what this was about, you shut your eyes, cursing Orion under your breath, when you opened them Spider-Man was gone. 

“So you knew I was Spider-Man all along?” Peter scoffed. “You are full of secrets witch.”

“I knew I even said it to you when you were freaking out. Half of the spell had to do with me doing the ritual and half of it was you believing it would work, you still opened those damn pretty eyes.”

Peter kicked a tiny rock off the roof. “So you think I have pretty eyes?” he heard you laugh. 

“You do Peter Parker.”

He blushed deeper. “ So what I felt when you… kissed me was just part of the spell?” 

The disappointment in his voice made your heart jump. “It wasn’t about feelings, Peter Parker, it was just a spell to fix your bad luck. Whatever you felt, that’s on you.”

“Hmm,” he took a step closer, scratching his neck. “I was being serious when I asked you out for coffee.”

“I know.”

Peter smirked. “You like making me suffer, I see how it is.” He laughed, making a full twirl.

The grin on your lips couldn’t be held. “It’s funny to see you all embarrassed.” 

“Jesus… okay so, coffee this Saturday?” His ears were bright red.

“Sounds good to me.” 

“Great.” Another step closer. “Don’t bring your cat, I beg.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Good, because I’m feeling pretty lucky as it is.” His lips ghosted over yours.

On your tiptoes you connected your lips with his cold but soft ones. Both smiling and chuckling. 

“This is even better than the last one.”

“Yeah because you were freaking out about spiders, Spider-Man.” you mumbled, Peter brushed the hairs that floated in your face, he needed a clear path.

“I think I prefer it when you call me Peter Parker.”

Peter kissed the tip of your nose, and you finally let him know your name. He beamed as he repeated it.

“That sounds about right.”

A meow was heard and Peter groaned, forehead connection to yours.

“He won’t do it again. I promise, it was just a blue moon thing.”

You saw his eyes traveling all over your face. “I think I can get used to getting cursed.”

Orion meowed again, rubbing its little black fur against Peter’s leg. 

“Hey pal.” Peter said, patting the cat sweetly.

You snorted. “You’re weird Peter Parker.”

“Thank you.” 

Maybe after all Orion did something that made you happier than a badly knitted quilt.  

Peter found the whole term of black cat curse drastically different, they weren’t about bad luck after all. 

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 3! MATCH 2 OUT OF 4

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Queen Red Riding Hood:

She's a girlboss who is sometimes a little vain but still loves her friends and will do anything to save her kingdom. Also she was in love with a guy since she was like 8 and he continuously rejected her, and then she found out he was in love with her archenemy. So yeah, she needs this.

She's kinda spoiled and high maintenance but gets better. I just think she's a fun character

i loved the land of stories series as a kid and i especially loved red because shes sooo full of herself and wears beautiful dresses and expensive jewelry and stuff (she became a queen lol) but also she does come to genuinely care for people and her friends and has a good heart (even if she does brag about it) she’s a very funny character x)

She’s a great example of how sudden fame and wealth at a young age can go to your head, and she gets great character development about it. She has an entire giant chamber in her castle full of baskets (it’s unfortunately quite flammable). My most favorite detail about her is when she finds a wolf pup in the woods, she assumes it’s a dog and names him Clawdius (yes, spelled like that). Everyone else knows it’s a wolf but no one wants to be the one to tell her. She learns the truth and gets over it and now Clawdius is her guard wolf. (Oh also she had the original Big Bad Wolf made into a winter coat, and that’s the original reason Clawdius came to her) I love her, she’s married to a giant frog man, she got elected queen, please vote for her.

Queen Red ftw!!!!!!

As you can see from these little excerpts [Mod's note: click on link to look at the excerpts] that I managed to gather in less than ten minutes, you should vote for Queen Red :D

YESSSS VOTE FOR QUEEN RED, SHE DESERVES THIS SO MUCH

Vote for Queen Red TLoS!!! She's a girlboss who married a frog man :D

Cerise:

She’s the child of the red riding hood and the big bad wolf. Don’t question it to okay. Also she was the first character I thought of when I saw this!

She’s the daughter of red riding hood and the big bad wolf! She’s a werewolf!

Love her design very much. She gets a lot of great outfits. Also, another version of Red Riding Hood that incorporates both the girl and the wolf together.

1: ever after high was iconic and amazing and so well written and i'm really bitter that it was cancelled so i think cerise deserves this win (i do too) 2: her design is really good. like no one else could EVER if you ask me 3: wolf girl. do i NEED to say more. ...honestly, my brain cannot bring out any more words so fingers crossed someone else submits her and she gets some ACTUAL GOOD propaganda (sorry cerise forgive me)

She’s a badass red riding hood with a secret (her dad is the big bad wolf)

She's the daughter of Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, so she has wolf ears and is really strong. She's supposed to be the next Red Riding Hood so she should count.

She's the daughter of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf making her a daughter of forbidden love and thus a double representation of Little Red Riding Hood's age-old story of maturity and adolescence.

She's really cool! She was born from a forbidden romance between the wolf (don't worry he turns into a human lmao) and Little Red Riding Hood and has to hide her heritage from other people which I think is really interesting. Also her hood is really pretty.

She's the daughter of red riding hood and is meant to take over that role when it's her time

she slays so hard!! while technically shes not THE little red riding hood, she is her daughter and the FUTURE little red riding hood. shes also half wolf, which is really cool!! and yea. she slays.

idk she’s just cool & definitely gay

She’s meant to be the next Red Riding Hood but her whole bit is that not only is her mom Red Riding Hood, her father is the Big Bad Wolf and she needs to keep it a secret. The best of both worlds. The tween girls went crazy for the wolf thing. Had a pretty doll and cool outfits. Has an older sister who’s meant to be the next Big Bad Wolf (Ramona Badwolf) who she comes into conflict with. Identity crisis! She was everything to eleven year old me

She’s half wolf, she has cool white streaks in her hair, she’s a jock with super speed and I like her a lot.

she turned me lesbian.

Fan favourite, my first lesbian crush on a character

She is a daughter of previous Little Red Riding Hood and Big Bad Wolf, how cool is that

She’s a furry yeuwu

she’s the daughter of red riding hood and the big bad wolf. she’s a wolf girl. i love her

[justfandomwritings]

A Package Deal

Pairing: Hangman x Female!Reader x Phoenix

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Lots of non-explicit sexual tension and pining; heavy handed flirting and smutty implications

Summary: You've been a bartender at the Hard Deck for a while now, and you've gotten to know the pilots of TopGun pretty well. They work hard, and they play hard. And God what you wouldn't give to play around with a couple of them, not that you'd ever had the guts to ask.

Notes: IDK I got bored and horny, and I thought the world needed more Hangman/Phoenix/Reader fics.

She’s the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen in your life. She’s hot in the uniform, but out of it she’s fucking stunning.

Dark brown hair cascading in luscious waves around her face. Dark, lidded eyes piercing into you like they can see straight through your mind and hear every lewd thought that crosses it. Beautiful lips that pull back over perfect teeth and fill you with a longing to make her smile like that at you every day.

Long, toned legs that stretch out from under the sexy little blue dress she’s donning. They go on for days in those nude heels every time she takes a step and oh fuck.

She’s taking another step. Fuck fuck fuck. She’s walking towards you. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been ogling her from across the bar like a fucking creep and now she’s walking towards you.

You glance nervously around the bar and see a guy with a mostly empty drink and rush over.

“Get you a refill?”

The man nods and raises his glass in wordless appreciation.

It’s bourbon on the rocks. Not even top shelf. The cheap, well shit. It takes about thirty seconds to make, but it gives you an excuse to turn around. You drag it out to a full minute: picking out each individual cube of ice and giving the slowest pour you can reasonably manage.

It wasn’t long enough. When you turn around she’s there.

She’s leaning against the bar, standing, the bottom of her breasts just brushing the counter of the bar while the tops peer up at you invitingly from the deep cut v.

“Good afternoon Lieutenant, what can I get you?” You gulp as you sets the bourbon down in front of the intended patron.

“Two beers,” Natasha smiles at you. Actually smiles at you, and for a moment you have to make the conscious decision not to melt into a puddle on the floor.

She doesn’t say anything, but she’s looking at you, looking through you, with those all-knowing eyes. She knows she has power over you, and yet you’re absolutely certain she doesn’t know how much power she has over you.

“Two?” Your voice remains surprisingly even as you open the fridge beneath the countertop and pull out the pilots’ usual beer of choice. For a moment, you’re proud of yourself for this small, though seemingly insurmountable achievement.

“Yeah, I got company.”

It hurts your heart, but you don’t show it on your face - or at least you try not to - as you set two bottles down in front of her. Of course she has company. Coming in here looking like that, she has to have company. If she came here to find company she’s so pretty she could’ve got it wearing a wet paper bag, but she’s dressed up, wearing an outfit that’s meant to impress someone.

“Who’s the lucky date?” You try to sound casual, but from the way her eyes rove over your face you know you’ve failed.

“No one you’d disapprove of.”

She turns back to watch the doors of the bar and only moments later they swing open.

Your mouth runs dry.

If she is the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen, he is the sexiest man alive. People magazine could sell more copies just from putting his face on the cover than any famous celebrity’s name.

He’s not in uniform either, and the only time you’ve ever seen him out of uniform was playing football - which was a positively religious experience. You’ve never seen him in civilian clothes, and god you don’t know what’s sexier the leather jacket or the abs you know are lurking underneath it.

His hair is Slightly disheveled but in a styled sort of way. There’s far less product in it today than normal. He’s let it fall naturally to one side, and it sways gently as he turns his head. He’s clearly had the day off because his facial hair has gone well beyond five o’clock shadow to full blown stubble, and it’s a look that is an absolute crime to shave off.

For a brief moment, very brief, you forget Natasha is sitting in front of you. It’s a feat no other man or woman alive is capable of. No one could hold a candle to the fire she lit except the walking inferno that is Jake Seresin.

Walking. Fuck fuck fuck. You turn away again. There’s no drinks to refill now. It’s too early in the afternoon. There aren’t enough patrons. Penny isn’t even in yet for her shift.

You busy yourself with finding your cleaning rag and wiping down the center island of the bar.

Behind you there is a tinkling laugh. Natasha’s laugh. You’d memorized the sound from the few times you’d managed to cause it. And it tore through you making your heart stutter step. She was laughing at you. Not great, but god what a laugh it was. It wasn’t the same as making her laugh, but it was still such an indescribably happy feeling.

“Jake,” Natasha greeted, and you heard a stool pull out.

She never called him Jake. He never called her Natasha. Call signs only. Even off the clock. This must be … something real.

“Good to see you Nat, did I miss any of the fun?” Gods his voice could make you weak in the knees and he wasn’t even talking to you. You weren’t even looking at him.

You could circle the bar. Circling the bar was good. You weren’t really supposed to hang out on the far side of the center island. It hid the front door and incoming customers from view. You were only supposed to make a quick round. But these were extenuating circumstances. Surely Penny would understand.

“Not at all, we hadn’t even started.”

“Haven’t started and she’s already squirming like that?”

They were talking about you. They had to be talking about you. You didn’t really have an ego, and you would normally never assume anyone was ever talking about you, let alone two people as gorgeous as Natasha and Jake. But they had to be talking about you. There weren’t that many other women in the bar to begin with – a couple regulars over playing darts and one guy with his fiancé in the corner – and you were certainly squirming. At least inside your skin you were squirming.

You can feel your face going red, feel the heat rising under the surface. You choose to ignore it. Ignore them. It is the safest option. You can’t turn around, not as flustered as you are now. You’ll never hear the end of it from Jake if you do. Natasha will give you that knowing smile from time to time, but if Jake saw you like this, flushed at the mere idea they were talking about you, he would tease you till the end of time. You did not have the mental fortitude to deal with Jake “Hangman” Seresin teasing you every day.

“Well, you know (Y/n),” Natasha seems to make a point to say your name a little louder, “we’re gonna have to ease her into it.”

You whip around. You can’t help it. Whether it’s the way she says your name or the tone in which she says she’s going to ‘ease’ you into some unspecified thing, the implications are a shock to the system, and you truly can’t stop yourself from turning around, wide-eyed as a deer in headlights, to face the two pilots.

Jake is grinning at you, smug and self-assured as he always is. His fingers are delicately wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle as he leans back in the barstool. There’s a lazy air about the way he takes a swig from the bottle.

Lazy is not a word you would normally associate with Jake Seresin. His body language is off. The bar is normally his hunting ground. He stalks around the pool tables and dart boards proving his superiority and waiting for the ideal catch, but today he doesn’t seem like he’s hunting. He’s too relaxed, too unaware of every time the door swings open. His eyes are too focused on you.

He's still looking at you like a predator does his prey, the way he usually looks at the beautiful patrons of the bar who throw themselves at his feet. But the urgency is gone, the hunt, the chase, the playing hard to get, it isn’t there. He looks like a predator completely and utterly convinced that his prey is going to run willingly into his claws.

“I-I,” You don’t know what to say.

You manage to tear your gaze away and divert it to Natasha. Whatever you’re seeking there – help, answers, amusement at a joke well played – you don’t find it.

Her eyes aren’t on yours. They’re on your body, roving over your curves like she needs to memorize them for a test later. She’s studying you, and you don’t know if its disconcerting or incredibly appealing. Either way, it pins you in place. You can’t move under her gaze, can’t disrupt the path her eyes are taking over your chest and down to your waist.

If Jake’s eyes left any question as to what they were easing you into, the flash of Natasha’s as they darted back up to meet yours answered it. She looks hungry, downright starving. You don’t exactly feel like prey under her gaze, but you still feel like a meal, a thing waiting to be devoured.

Your eyes go straight to her lips as she catches her lower one between her teeth, gently gnawing on it as she seems to ponder what to say or do.

“Don’t worry, Angel,” Your eyes dart back to Jake’s as he finally sits up and leans in. His voice is quiet, low and rough so the strangers surrounding the bar can’t possibly hear even though you’re still across the bar, frozen, pinned to the center island. “We promise we’ll go easy on you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Natasha adds.

Your hands shoot out and clutch the lip of wood behind you. You have to to keep your feet under you as you feel your knees go weak.

“Mmm,” Jake hums, his eyes following the same trail over you that Natasha’s had a few moments before. It felt like his touch following hers over you, and it was enough to make you bite back a groan. “Looks like you were right, Nat.” He’s addressing her, but his eyes haven’t shifted away from you. “She does want it rough.”

“(Y/n)!”

You jerk back away from the center island and turn around to see Penny ducking under the other side of the bar.

“H-Hey Penny,” You can’t hide it. You know you can’t hide it. Your skin is still red all over, and your eyes are dazed and confused. You’re almost certain that at any moment you’re going to break out in nervous sweats.

Penny sees you and immediately frowns.

Your heart goes into overdrive, thudding loudly in your chest. Natasha has a way of looking straight through you, and you’re praying Penny doesn’t share that talent as she eyes you with concern. If she knew or even suspected, what had been going on between you and the two pilots behind you moments before she walked in, you would quit on the spot. Resign in disgrace never to be seen again.

“You okay honey?” Penny stepped around towards you and put the back of her palm to your forehead. “You look like you’re burning up. Did you get too much sun?”

“N-No, I think I’m just coming down with something.”

Penny let out a quiet hum of agreement as she felt the heat of your skin. “You should head home. I can call in someone else tonight.”

“I… My roommate is my ride, and she’s…”

“I’ll take her!”

Your head jerks around to see Natasha climbing off of her barstool and seemingly collecting herself to leave. She’s giving Penny a sympathetic smile that wreaks of an innocent, helpful nature that was entirely absent just moments before.

“We have a party to get to anyway. I’ll drop her off on the way.”

Jake nods his assent and tilts his head back, downing the rest of his beer in one swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he elongates his neck, and a single trickle of beer leaks out and runs past his jaw down the length of his throat. The smirk he comes up with spells out for you that he did it on purpose.

“Thank you Natasha,” Penny accepts the ride before you even have a chance to consider your options, and she pushes you towards the flap out from behind the bar. “Go home and get some rest.”

You nod along numbly, walking around to join Jake and Natasha. They position themselves on either side of you as they lead you out of the bar.

To everyone watching, it looks like two patrons helping a friend who looks very flushed and confused, possibly drunk or sick. Jake’s arm goes in what should be a comforting embrace around your shoulders, resting his left hand on your left shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze.

Natasha is more obvious, not that anyone seems to notice but you. Her fingers blaze a trail over your skin, not merely wrapping themselves around your waist, but brushing along your back as they go.

“Your choice, angel.” Natasha’s lips touch the outer shell of your ear as she whispers into, her voice husky with what you can only assume is want. “We can take you home, and you can call this a nice, unexpected day off. Or you can come with us.”

Jake’s fingers squeeze your shoulder, longer this time, not a comfort but a warning, “Just know, angel,” You reach the parking lot of the Hard Deck, and Jake pulls the three of you to a stop, him and Natasha standing in front of you with similar, imploring looks. His free hand points between him and Natasha, “We’re kind of a package deal.”

[thecameronchronicles]

A Dinner on Figure Eight

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: You prove to Pope you want only him, despite your family’s objections. 

WORD COUNT: 1600

REQUESTED:

hii! can you do a pope x kook!reader smut where they visit her family for the holidays (like in the pilot where john b says that some kooks visit the island for the summer, so they go off island) where the parents don’t really like pope and try to set her up with another rich guy and reader and pope sneak off and have sex (maybe in a car? idk lol)

A Dinner on Figure Eight

"Are you sure the tie isn't too much?" He asked nervously while standing on the steps of your childhood home. Your fingers adjusted the creases made in his dress shirt from his inability to remain still as you smirked. 

"You look perfect, Pope." 

"No." He corrected, his hands magnetized to your hips. 

"YOU look perfect...damn..." He shook his head. "Do you think it's too late to take advantage of the fact you're wearing a skirt?" He asked with his forehead pressed softly into yours while his fingers contrasted this in eagerness at your waist. In the same vindication, you pulled that very tie loose in bringing him closer to you before teasing his lips with the ghosting of your own gliding across his. 

"Your gift today is in here..." You explained while tapping his jacket, still worn over his arm. He offered a quizzical look before pulling your panties to view. 

"Babe-" 

"Just something to make you a bit less nervous..." 

"Now all I'm going to be able to think about is getting my hands under this skirt-" You smirked. The sudden clearing of your father's throat having sent Pope to turn sickly in appearance as you smoothed over what you could. 

"I hope you haven't had all the champagne yet..." You offered as you pulled Pope behind you, as your family greeted you with love. But in this example, you were separated from Pope, who held his own through the strongest confidence he could have before you were allowed to join him again. 

"You remember Topper?" Your mother asked. "It's been some time since you two spent some time together-" 

"Mom-" 

"Just friends catching up. Topper has actually decided to come to a school closer to home." He nodded, broadcasting a smile that paled against Pope's,  that you hadn't seen since you crossed over to Figure Eight. 

"Nothing wrong with weighing your options..." Your father spoke to Topper, with a side glance that made you well aware his words were more directed to you. 

"I don't know. Seems like Topper was completely content where he was. Unless it was the pressure of his family that made him switch. Then he isn't doing it for himself...which he should because they should just want him to be happy..." 

"And I'm sure one day HE will understand that everything they've done was to give the best life." 

"And what if your idea of the best isn't what they want?" Your eyes narrowed, your conversation silencing all others as Pope cleared his throat. 

"I can go if-" 

"No. We're staying. Can you pass the gravy?" You asked your father, a rather lackluster conversation holding nobody's attention as Pope lowered his voice to you. 

"Baby, I don't want to be a reason anything is tense, I can wait outside." To this, you clenched your jaw at the thought. Ever since Pope and you had begun dating, he made you feel precious at every second at his side. And in those you were apart, whether it had been because of school or work, a sweet, sometimes sultry, text would remind you that you were on his mind. But all your family saw as a collective had been his lack of self sustainability. 

"Actually..." You turned to face Pope, teasing that same tie left loose from your former moment. 

"I want you to fuck me." He choked on his drink, the hand at rest over your crossed legs having tightened as he turned into you. 

"Baby-" 

"I want to feel you inside of me while I tell you how good it is..." His eyes fluttered in a fight to stay open. "I want you to make me come as hard as you always do...but then I want you to kiss me..." You brought two fingers to his jaw to turn him to face you. His eyes locked onto yours. "And then I want you to do it again..." 

Your name was spoken as a scold as you turned to face your mom. 

"Don't be rude..." 

"I'm talking to my boyfriend." You corrected as Pope was still drowning in your request to pay much attention to your family. Even Topper’s presence faded at the thought of your words. 

"Who spent the entire last five paychecks on your gifts by the way....ones you don't deserve-" 

"We can just-" 

"But he does. Every single thing I'm going to let him do to me in about five minutes-" 

"Enough!" Your father spat. 

"Oh..." You reached into Pope's pocket. "There you go, Top...that's the closest you're gonna get..." You glared at your family before pulling Pope by his hand and leading him back outside. 

"Baby-" 

"I'm tired of them doing this. Im sorry if I embarrassed you, Pope, I just can't stand that they don't see in you what I do, it's-" He silenced you with a kiss to your lips. A palm on either cheek ran to your hair, made loose by this grip. Those loose eaves at a natural rest on the back of either shoulder as you were pinned against the car. 

"I love you." 

"Show me how much." You challenged as he moved to pull open the passenger side of the car before you moved past him and opened the back. 

"How are you going to take me from behind and slap my ass with such little room?" You challenged as he clenched his jaw, catching your arm just before you climbed over the seat. 

"I wanted to get you home...to a bed...somewhere I can tie you down because you're being particularly coquettish..." 

"I can't wait. I won't. " you turned to face him, playing with his tie before sliding it off of his neck, "But you can still tie me down if you want...You might want to because I don't think I can keep my hands still..." You offered a pout as he moved to kiss you, you retracting at the very last moment, before he followed you into the backseat. 

"You really want to do this here?" He asked as you slipped up your skirt enough to reveal the validation of those bare hips, now accentuated with your dripping sex. With a cocked brow, he lowered himself to the floor of the back and angled you quickly until his tongue was at those folds. 

"Oh my God!" 

"Mmm...mmmhmmm..." He moaned into you as your body began to move against him. 

"Pope!" The windows were quick to condensate. 

"I wanna feel you inside me! I wanna feel you fuck me!" 

He undressed, leaving his dress shirt in a part and his pants gathered at his ankles in impatience, before bringing you back into the kneeling of his legs. 

"Oh shit!" He grunted, his grasp holding tightly onto the fabric of your dress at your stomach as the other hand moved to your breast, countering this cover. 

"I need to feel all of you-" 

"Im yours to touch...yours ro fuck, Pope...so fuck me..." You whimpered as he tightened you further into him. 

"I love hearing you say that...But I love making it true..." He thrusted into you, your hands projecting from his wrists and to the door in front of you, forcing a handprint evidential to the window. 

"I love you!" You belted as he quickened. 

"I love you, baby..." He groaned into your shoulder, grunting and moaning as he built to his own edge. 

"Pope! I need to come, you feel too good..." 

"I want you to do it..." You faced him. 

"While I'm inside of you, baby...let me feel you touch yourself for me..." 

"Mmm..." You began immediately, quick to bring yourself to tremors as his depth made this possible. 

"Oh my God..." 

"I need you!" You announced as he nodded, exchanging your hand for his own. 

"Nobody has ever felt like you, Pope!" 

"Nobody will. Because nobody will take care of you like this..." 

"No...nobody!" You validated as he nodded. 

"Good...so good-shit! Baby!" 

"Come for me, Pope-" But instead, he retracted, pulling you to sit normally on the seat. A hand to the back of your neck brought you to eye him as his dominant hand moved in attack to your sex. Pistoning fingers forcing your mouth to part. 

"Fuck! Are you trying to make me squirt?!" 

"Wouldn't be the first time..." He smirked. "Not like you have panties in the way..." 

"Pope!" You gripped his wrist. 

"It's too much!" 

"I can't hear you baby...you're coming too loudly-" 

"Oh my God! Oh my GOD!" You gasped, that river of pulsating pleasure making you unabashed to your body's flexing against him. Wild hips and quick moans leaving you desperate and manic. 

"Fuck..." He smirked, reaching to suck his fingers as you straddled him. 

"I said twice..." You reminded. 

"You did, didn't you?" He grinned as you brought him back inside of you. 

"It isn't too much?" 

"It always is with you...but I love it." You confirmed as you rode him into his own orgasm. Your name, a song on his lips as you grinned widely to the victory in what your body brought to him. His grip and his moaning validating this as he shot into you. 

"Let's get you home..." Pope explained as you paused with a hand to his chest. 

"I am." You kissed him sweetly as he reciprocated deeply. He reminded you of both love and lust with his touch. Soft but passionate. The perfect combination of everything. And that was what he was to you. 

Everything. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love

MASTERLIST

CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

[uncivilcivilservice]

Louis or Daniel for the character ask prompt :)

Have both! First up is Louis

Sexuality Headcanon: So I know as far as canon is concerned, Louis is as bi as the rest of them, but honestly both mortal and vampire Louis give me gay asexual vibes. I don't think sex/equivalent blood drinking intimacy really occurs to him on a regular basis, but that's not to say he can't enjoy it when the occasion arises. I also just don't see him as particularly attracted to women (I know canon practically refutes this with Babette et al but still)

Gender Headcanon: Soft dusty gentleman. He's a man who is also a beleaguered wife and mother

A ship I have with said character: Armand/Louis is probably my main Louis ship? We deserved more elaboration on their time together, both in the past and present, in canon, and I will happily eat up any content that fills in the gaps there because their dynamic is interesting in terms of what it reveals about them

A BROTP I have with said character: Louis and Daniel. Something drew them together the night of that interview, and I love drawing parallels between them and just in general it feels like they either match really closely with some of their traits, or they contrast really starkly, and I think that can be interesting to play with. I also think Daniel is one of the other more human of the vampires. My Trinity Gate Book Club Boys.

A NOTP I have with said character: I would say Claudia but I've read some great fic that explored that uncomfortable relationship so idk if that counts

A random headcanon: He doesn't know what happened to some of the vampire cosplay items he was wearing during the interview, and he secretly worries they might turn up at some point because Daniel would make his life a living hell with them if he got the chance 🧛‍♂️

General Opinion over said character: He's soggy and dusty, he's the most beautiful thing most vampires have ever seen, he's the Finances Spouse, he doesn't know his times tables, he's catatonic, he's committing arson. Nobody is doing it like him

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then my boy Daniel 🩵

Sexuality Headcanon: Again, canon wise I suppose he's bi, and I mostly agree with that, but I think he leans heavily towards romantic and sexual attraction to men. I don't think he ever really saw himself settling down with a woman and having kids and leading a normal heterosexual life

Gender Headcanon: Pretty much a cis guy, though he finds it fun on occasion to experiment with different presentations and fashions, especially for events and themed clubs etc. And I have a headcanon of him and Bianca going clubbing together while cross-dressing

A ship I have with said character: Armand/Daniel obviously, but also Marius/Daniel because goddammit my boy deserves all the devoted, ancient sugar daddies he can get okay

A BROTP I have with said character: Oh god so many, but since I already mentioned them, Daniel and Bianca! And I can make it angsty, as I headcanon that they got to know each other best while Daniel was still living with Marius, and Armand is happy to see them get along but feels weird about not having been there to see it develop

A NOTP I have with said character: Does 'whatever is happening in that show' count as a NOTP? 😅

A random headcanon: Oh god I have so many, I guess one would be that I view him as having been born in Ireland and his family having immigrated to the US when he was young, and his earliest memories are of the boat journey over

General Opinion over said character: He's my son, and my brain worms love the taste of his flesh, next question.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

(Yes I still got OrangeJuiceVerse Stan on the brain)

It is so important to me that OJV Stan is the most accident prone loser on the PLANET! Like other than Kenny, he’s cooonnnnstantly a disaster magnet also fucking South Park (Patrick Stump Voice: “STOP BY THIS DISASTER TOWN”) this man just forever is a victim of minor injuries. Ojverse Kyle may be the one with chronic pain, but Stan is out here getting hurt in the dumbest ways.

Like he’ll show up to school with one of those cvs finger splints and Kyle will go “dude how’d you break your finger, football?” And Stan is embarrassed as shit like “nah I uhhh opened the door wrong” “how the fuck do you open the door wrong” “idk I just did” smh loser dumbass.

Not to mention that he’s Tall and tall people are very at risk of hitting their heads on shit, he’s definitely *bonked* himself on cabinets and doorframes, also the amount of concussions this man sustained growing up it’s a wonder he has any brain cells left.

Thank GOD the fucker gets sober at 25 because he’s even clumsier when he’s drunk, there was this whole incident in college where he and Kenny, absolutely plastered, wandered over to a nearby park to do drunk parkour while dressed in their Halloween costumes (Kenny was dr frankenfurter and stan was eddie, they did Rocky Horror that year) (also this was referenced here) Kyle was PISSED bc Stan bruised the shit out of his back and yeah he and Ken were in Trouble for like two months.

This guy has totally burnt himself starting fires on camping trips, cut himself washing a knife, got too excited about the sword he bought for his wedding and fully put a hole in the wall slinging it around like stan you loser that thing is SHARP goddamn who let this man get a sword just so he could cut the cake with it (that thing (he definitely named it something stupid) was under Sharon’s protection right up until the ceremony bc my queen knows her fantasy dork son would probably slice his leg open if left unattended lmao)

Literally he’s also such a horrible patient when he gets hurt enough to actually affect his life, like he falls down the Widowmakers in the SP Survivor college house and totally should be wearing a neck brace for a little bit but he WONT bc “marj chill out the dr said it was just encouraged” bruh it literally took Cartman telling him he was a “goddamn hippie-hypocrite” bc everyone knows Stan’s overbearing as hell when anyone else is hurt or sick. When Stan broke his arm in high school he absolutely tried to get kenny to cut the cast off way too early bc it was itchy and stupid lmfao Kyle caught them with a pair of pliers down the plaster and almost lost his shit smh the Disaster Duo is the sole fuel to his high blood pressure hdasfjdhkl.

He really is such a hypocrite too, he’ll be out here running a high ass fever and ignoring it until he stands up and collapses and then he gets mad when someone else does the same shit. On god someone’ll trip and and skin their palms and Stan will be like “dude you gotta be CAREFUL when it’s icy outside” and then they’re just like “Stan I literally watched you eat shit in the parking lot racing Kenny to your truck like, yesterday.” Smh. Also this man does not remember to drink water ever he’s convinced any liquid counts and he SO fainted from dehydration at a student council blood drive in hs (Wendy was working the checkin station and got so mad at him lmfao he was like “wends pls don’t tell Kyle” and she told kyle and then the Red Cross worker is taping his stab hole closed while this boy she didn’t think would be a problem is getting chastised by both of them lmao. But of course he’s on Kenny’s ass to remember to hydrate. And lord during his stint as the school mascot for that one spring semester he’s out here at cheerleading practice reminding all the girlies to drink water and Bebe is like “pack it up Superman” (he totally looks like Superman) “did YOU drink water?” (This dumbass did not)

Anyway OJV Stan my sweet boy he’s well meaning but also accident prone and maybe a little adhd <3

[nerice]

all 17 for gray👀

*rolls up sleeves* i hate you so much for this. <3

prefacing it by saying a lot many answers will be void bc this guy refuses 2 be interesting, the human equivalent of a stained concrete wall, you'd find more personality on any old piece of wet cardboard. read more'd for length & shame reasons

((in retrospect idk if i should put a content warning on this lol. there certainly is.. content in here. tongue in cheek mentions of (linn)+gray canon-typical atrocities etc. be warned but also like. im funny abt it))

what do they carry on them at all times? the eternal soul bracelet !! which is a fancy way of saying "chess's irl eyes on a string" #lovely

what would they pack for a trip that might be different from question 1? hardest liquor he can find + an assortment of knives to pass idle time

what kinds of things do they like receiving as gifts? literally does not care. it is extremely funny 2 imagine anyone gifting him anything but 100% it wld be left untouched and to gather dust as soon as he moves on to elsewhere i guess linn's melody pendant is the one exception even if it only marginally counts as a gift and he had it a total of 30 minutes before faye stole it lmao

do they have any possessions that they made themself? nope not an arts n crafts guy, sorry

if they were to make a gift for someone else, what would it be? is this something they do often, or are they more likely to buy something? gbfhgbhdfbghbf bdfndg mm mgng the only time he has ever given anything 2 someone else is in the context of extremely fucked up blood transfer methods/torture

do they own anything that would make them embarrassed if someone else knew/saw? is somewhat keen to hide the eternal soul bracelet mostly bc it makes people eliada ask him abt it and he hates it when people talk to him

do aesthetics matter to them when buying things? how much? if yes to the above, what are their aesthetic sensibilities like? can they be easily defined (ie. any kind of -core aesthetic), or are they more eclectic? concrete-core boringcore just-a-guy syndrome. if you took dark academia and let it rot in a basement for a few hundred years that's how you get Him

what color dominates their wardrobe, if any? nominative determinism etc

what types of clothes are they most comfortable in? (either physical comfort or emotional) screenplay said ratty pullover to rule them all but canonically sleeves are actually An Issue and he only bothers with that if he needs to hide the eternal soul bracelet i.e. those times he drops by eliada's place. in general all tight clothing/direct skin contact is iffy so he avoids it but he does feel surprisingly at home in fancy dress (made for dancing so not too tight) though it never crosses his mind to wear anything elaborate unless he n linn are going out for some play pretend. he just rly rly can't be fucked to put effort outside of that

are they picky about clothing textures? do they have a favorite type of fabric? in tandem w/ prev sentiment: yeah!!!! has to be a non-offensive texture so nothing too rough nothing scratchy nothing with annoying seams. i love that this implies he is wearing like. shitty silk pullovers gbfhgb highest threadcount on the most mundane clothing items

do they hang on to things for sentimental reasons? if so, what? evil & again. mostly the eternal souls though his reasons for keeping them are [????] linnea's melody pendant was of obv value the moment that he lost her n he wld have hung on to that with all his dead heart if faye hadn't stolen it 0.2 seconds after yeeting linn thru spacetime in front of him. no god knows why he hung onto/subjected himself to/enacted the repeated mutual misery of,,,, rabbit-keeping :) let's call it that. terrible sentiment but a sentiment nonetheless

are there any particular people that they’d be more likely to keep a gift from than others? linnea is the only person that ever stirred any emotion (or motion, period) in him. though she gave him 'gifts' (ranging from clothes she wanted him to wear to uh. [redacted] don't think i can legally say this on tumblr or anywhere but. victim-sharing :) if you catch my drift) none of which enticed him necessarily but he'd play along bc amusing her is easier than becoming her amusement. etc etc serial killer ship etc but none of the gifts ever meant anything other than For Funsies n even the melody pendant only gained importance bc it was what marked the end of what they had :)

do they enjoy interior decorating? what are their sensibilities like there? ah yes, the dude who raised his daughter in a cave, known for his domestic sensibilities. the only interior design quirk 2 speak of is that he and linn used to move all furniture to the sides of the room so they had space to dance

would they trust their partner to decorate their house? trust or not if linnea wants to disembowel a girl on their living room floor that's just what the new paint job is now. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what scents do they enjoy? (either to wear or for things like candles or incense) anything honey-coded. not elaborating on this at all

do they decorate for holidays? LMAO yeah sure what do you think. big holidays guy full dress up and lawn items rly gets in the spirit all the neighbors know and love him for it

[penaltbox]

they did well!! onto the semis ☺️ it is so bittersweet. i havent totally confronted those feelings yet lol. but your boy sounds so cute 🥺 any details you can spare on what he looks like? i totally get if you want to keep those private too though lol. im just being nosy. he better be nice to you!!! its what you deserve. good good and no need to rush things go your own pace 🥰 Hahaha thats amazing j omg. fingers are crossed for you!!

but ok so our night out. lol he did like the dress. the dress is a little bit…different to what i usually wear. but the girls hyped me up so i was feeling myself. we met up with the guys and ry saw me before T and he just raised his eyebrows and did a low whistle and then spun T around to face me. T gave me a once over. and then did that two more times. he didnt even say anything just pulled me in and kissed me 🙈 and the girls were all giggling about it. but then some of the guys told me i looked good and T was like “you look amazing” and he just refused to let go of me. when i called him out for it he leaned down and whispered “because every guy here has looked at you and im not letting them even think they stand a chance” 🙈🙈🙈 we had a good time! T left my side once to go get me another drink and his teammates took that time to tease me about how i was driving T crazy 🙈 and when T came back they teased him too and he just shrugged and said “i know. my girl is hot” which made me blush and turn to hide in his shoulder lol. rest of the night was fun too. we went to another place where we could dance. the guys were not excited about that one but the girls dragged them all there. idk if T um standing behind me with his hands on my hips for some of that really counts as dancing 🙈 but it was how i convinced him to leave the boys and dance with me lol 🙈🙈 when i got tired i went over to where they had snagged a table and T let me sit in his lap. and at one point he moved a piece of my hair behind my ear my heart melted and smiled at me and i asked “what” and he said “just admiring” 🥺🥺 i gave him a peck for that one lol. and pretty soon after that i was tired and ready to go home so ofc T went with me. we got teased for leaving ofc. ry told T to remember common spaces are off limits so he needs to make it past the front door 🙈 i need to get him back for that one somehow. and then there was some fun (👀) before we actually went to bed lol. i am very tired today though lol

Oh yay!! Good luck to them! That’s so exciting. You can know about him ☺️ he’s got lighter brown hair I’d call it and he keeps a bit of facial hair but not too much really. I’d compare it to like Brendan’s in my pfp honestly. Maybe a tiny bit more. He’s like 6ft which is great because I’m only 5’1 lol. Not a tiny guy, he’s like 100lbs more than me which again, love that because I always feel small with him 🙈 he’s got the cutest little smile but he’s so shy that he always tries to hide it. Idk yeah I like him so we’ll see how it goes 🙈🙈

You deserved to be hyped up in that dress omg!! I bet you looked absolutely gorgeous! I’m glad you made the boys dance, in whatever capacity that was haha. Just admiring?? Gonna go nap in traffic now 🥹🥹 that’s so damn cute. Ryan is always there with a subtle reminder huh 😂 I still love that boy. Oh and some fun huh 👀👀 now it’s my turn to remind you two to be safe!! That sounds like it was all a blast though. Enjoy your time you guys have left!!

[sebyth]

Cross-posting this from my twatter (it will never be "x" to me, fuck that fucking jackass). Personal experience anecdotes to give context for why I feel a certain way about Certain Recent Fandom Drama. It's kinda long (didn't even count how many tweets it took up) so putting it under a read-more. Keeping most of the formatting as it was in my tweets, except a couple that were run-on. Fixing a handful of spelling errors and gonna change my on-twitter use of "unalive" back to "suicide".

tw suicide mention, tw bullying, tw mental illness

I have been angry for almost two days and have not been sure if I should say anything about it, or if that would make things even worse. So I am gonna talk about myself for a bit and work up to it. It's gonna start with my childhood and end up with fandom drama, if I finish.

When I was a kid I was weird and didn't get along with people very well. I still am not sure why. There are mental health reason that might be it or maybe it isn't. Maybe I'm just weird and off-putting in general. My report cards always had "doesn't get along well with others".

There is one memory I have when I was maybe 8 and watching some of my classmates be fawned over by older girls (like 11 years old) and hugging them. So I ran up with my arms out for a hug too and they looked at me with revulsion and turned away.

It never really got better from there. Later in jr high (that would be about 13, 14 years old maybe), I had no friends and had learned that I wasn't gonna have friends so I didn't waste my energy trying. I hung out with the other two kids who also had no friends.

This was before the internet mind you, late 1980s maybe early 1990s. One day a rumour started circulating that a letter had been found, which was supposedly us three talking about each other sexually (I never saw this letter so idk the details). It spread over the school fast.

On top of the jeers and scolding from everyone in class at us (nothing we said made any difference), walking the halls to get to the next class had everyone from other grades looking at us like we were monsters. This really affected me for years.

In high school one of the two other kids got friends, the other moved away, and I spent all my time alone. Even though there were new people at the school I didn't try to make friends because I knew people from my school would tell them about me being gross and awful.

In my first year of university my roommate asked to transfer to another room fairly quickly because "I was a witch" apparently. Luckily the rez staff didn't escalate even though it was a religious-adjacent university. At least I got a double room to myself for the year.

Eventually I decided to go full weirdo. If people were gonna treat me like a freak my entire life I might as well do what I want. I cut my hair however I wanted, I wore decorative paint on my face, I started making and altering clothes however I wanted.

I sometimes even smiled when I'd be walking down the street and hear things like "omg is that guy wearing a -dress-?! wait is that a guy…" Though people shouting "freak" etc suddenly from cars passing by never got easier.

I got the idea that maybe it was because I lived in a small town. In a small province with small-minded people. Maybe if I went somewhere big, a city with lots of people, I'd find people like me to be friends with. And surely I wouldn't be so eye-catching in a city.

So I moved to Ottawa and almost the next day started getting people STILL shouting "freak" and "it's not Halloween" at me. I tried to make friends but I still didn't seem to fit in and had a falling out with those people too. That was the first time I tried to kill myself.

Well that made people hate me even more I guess. Every time I started hanging out with a new person, it would end quickly. I started finding out that anyone I hung out with would get phone calls warning them about me. Not to hang out with me.

I'm unstable, I tried to commit suicide, I'm no good, or whatever else they were saying. My current friend S was one of the few people who stuck with me despite his ex gf from ANOTHER CITY who had NEVER MET ME calling him to warn him that she heard I was bad news.

I stopped leaving the apartment. I stopped trying to make friends. Something was clearly wrong with me, and i would never find people like me. Was I the problem? Was other people the problem? I don't know even to this day I struggle with this.

One of the last times I bothered to talk to my mother I was complaining about people yelling shit at me when I walked around outside and her response was "you're just dressing like that for attention aren't you, why are you surprised people do that"

I was like "no you dumb bitch I'm dressing like this because it is ME and i don't know why people need to yell at me for it". But I thought if that is the message people are receiving then maybe I should never go outside in front of people again.

So I was a shut-in for about 10 years with depression and anxiety and my only support was a guy who had problems of his own and we helped keep each other alive until he couldn't anymore for Reasons. And I did finally get help. But I still can't fucking socialize.

So I never really participated in fandoms much and I still found it very hard to know how to make friends or be a friend or anything like that. Every social attempt seems like a failure waiting to blow up in my face and have everyone telling everyone that I'm bad.

And it is with shame that I realize I was kinda doing the same thing when I heard that "mods of the tyk/qy zone might be whalers or anti-cpf" and went to dms to warn someone that it might be the case even though I personally couldn't find any proof of that being the case.

And I'd heard that it was being investigated by reasonable people so to sit tight and wait for more info. It did seem a bit odd to me that given how heavy-handed I've been blocking whalers that none of these people were blocked by me. Then it breached containment.

If you don't know who or what I'm talking about it, don't worry about it, but a big-social-pull person made a post declaring that everyone involved with the zine are "whalers" and that everyone should be aware. But they didn't include any proof. Usually people calling out c>

whalers in this fandom the most loudly and obnoxiously are like "omg look at dez whalerz " And now it looks like we've gone fully into "I said they are whalers so they are whalers" territory.

If the mods of the zine are doing bad shit, that should be addressed (with fucking evidence maybe at least). But "friends with someone who liked a whaler's post one time" is not evidence of wrongdoing. And being said by a person whose words carry weight should have proof.

Especially in the damn fandom where a man's life was destroyed by "he's near a evil place he's secretly evil I heard he had a girlfriend when he wasn't supposed to have one omg look his hand is up in this photo"

I feel like I'm caught in the middle, because i get where fans of the books come from. They don't want to have to keep up with ZZH's case etc just to enjoy stories that existed before he played his role in the show. But I also get that his fans feel like they are taking advantage of his image and the popularity of WoH while disregarding him if they don't keep up with the case. And I get that people deal with this terrible grief-causing situation with ZZH in all kinds of ways, be that moving all their focus onto GJ and looking for every scrap of gesture or clothing as proof that ZZH is okay, or be that being fans of a guy who sorta vaguely looks like ZZH who is doing stuff they can interact with. I was fine with just blocking the people who were excited about "new ZZH" so I don't have to see it. But this whole "rooting out secret whalers" and "everyone is a whaler if they looked at a whaler once and didn't immediately renounce zsj or whatever" bullshit Is really getting out of hand.

And on top of that maybe it's my paranoia but it's a little fucking convenient that this thing has shown up to drive a bigger wedge between book fans and show/actor fans as we get closer to the second anniversary of 813.

And I guess I should state clearly my stance for when the hounds inevitably come for me for being a bad person AGAIN. I don't believe the instagram/zsj. I am not a cpf. I have nothing against cpfs or GJ, he just doesn't spark joy for me like ZZH does and I'm not into RPF/RPS.

But I'm also a god damned adult and a very old one at that so I just don't bother with stuff I am not interested in. People like RPF/RPS and that is awesome for them! I don't wanna fucking see zsj stuff so I block it so I don't have to see it.

And if the mods of the zine are doing shady things, call it out with PROOF. OF THOSE THINGS. Even if that thing is "looked at zsj and didn't turn away" show some PROOF. OF THE THING, IN THE CALLOUT POST.