I saw your prompt post and I was thinking something along the lines of this: "You spilled nachos all over the front of one of the most famous people of this day and age, and you didn't get in trouble?" "No, actually, I got a date."
Oh my god, I love this! Such a Stiles thing to do, haha. Hope this fits what you had in mind! Thank you for the prompt!
Peter was quite pleased with himself, having ditched the ‘bodyguards’—namely,
his niece and nephew—Talia insisted he bring with him everywhere to make sure
he was never overwhelmed by the public. But just because she was his sister—and
publicist—didn’t mean she could just step into his life and start making
decisions like when he’d be allowed to be alone. Peter had always had a high
need for alone time and like hell was he letting his sour-face nephew or ill-tempered
niece intrude on that.
He smirked to himself, adjusting his sunglasses and smoothly
blending into the crowds around him. It was nice just to get out, mingling
without being harassed by paparazzi and reporters wanting to know what roles he
was considering or hunting for a new piece of juicy gossip. He didn’t really
care where he was if it meant he didn’t have to deal with them, but truthfully
he’d been to a few renaissance fairs when he was younger and was looking
forward to seeing the joust that was in an hour. Plus, it was hard for people
to spot the celebrity in hiding in a crowd where people were wearing stilts and
jester costumes, royalty regalia, knight armor, and any other mixture of odd
Peter paused to look at some of the leatherwork at a display
table, honestly impressed by the suppleness of it. He considered grabbing a
card from the vender for future reference when a solid force hit his back and
sent him stumbling into the table, knocking off his glasses and almost bringing
the whole thing down.
“What the…” he growled under his breath, pushing his arms
under him and looking over his shoulder to glare at whoever had run into him.
He froze when he felt a hot liquid creeping under the collar of his shirt and
oozing down his back.
“Ooooooooh my god,” a voice spoke. “I am. SO sorry! I just!
Dude, I’m so so so sorry, ohmygod, I didn’t—”
“What exactly is
sliding down my back?” Peter asked tersely, almost afraid to sit up as the viscous
liquid slowly seeped further down his spine.
“Cheese,” the voice squeaked. Suddenly there were napkins
thrust into his face before the hands scrambled to wipe off his back.
“Cheese,” Peter echoed. His mind was whirling around the
word like a loading webpage, trying to process what had just been input in it.
“Yeah, like from nachos? Oh man, I’m really so sorry.” The
man continued trying to clean off his back, which Peter feared was a lost
“Yes, you shou—” Peter finally got to his feet, ready to
serve this idiot a scathing diatribe of just how stupid and oblivious a person
could be, when he actually looked up to see who he was talking to. Then it was
like the air was stolen from his lungs as bright whiskey eyes met his, looking
genuinely repentant, perfect pouty lips grimacing in preparation of what the owner
knew was a well-deserved lashing. Peter worked with beautiful people every day
and he’d never been so enraptured.
“You shouldn’t worry about it,” Peter finished somewhat lamely,
caught off guard by the sudden rush of desire. Desire to know who the man was,
what made him tick, what were his passions, what would he sound like in Peter’s
The man’s eyebrows raised at that. “Really? Because I feel
like you were about a kill me and then changed course at the last second there,
dude.” His eyes sparked as he said this, teasing. Peter wanted to lick his way
into that smart mouth and introduce him to another, little, death.
“It’s just a shirt,” Peter waved off, no longer concerned about
The man’s lip twitched, like he was fighting a smile. Peter
wished he wouldn’t. He wanted to see him smile, laugh, in the throes of passion.
“Well I’m still sorry. I should’ve been paying attention. I
don’t suppose you’ll let me make it up to you somehow?” The man shuffled a
little closer, under the guise of clearing the walkway just a bit more for
people to get by, but Peter wasn’t complaining.
Peter smirked. “Perhaps we could go get a drink and find
someplace…quieter? For you to make it up to me, of course.”
The man grinned, delighted. “Yes, please.” He paused and tilted
his head to a side adorably for a moment, forehead scrunching curiously. “You
do look kind of familiar, though.”
Peter laughed. “Just one of those faces, I guess.” Stiles shrugged,
letting Peter grab his hand and lead him away from the crowds.
Peter was slammed against the side of the wall, not that he
cared as he clutched at the other’s hair, dragging him closer as they both
tried to get air without separating their lips.
“By the way,” the man murmured, mouthing down the side of
Peter’s jaw to his neck. “My name’s Stiles.”
“Peter. Peter Hale.”
“Mmmm, Peter,” Stiles hummed, nibbling lightly on Peter’s
neck, before he jerked back and stared at Peter with wide eyes. “Peter Hale?!”
“You spilled nachos all over one the most famous people of
this day and age, and you didn’t get in trouble?” Lydia sent him an unimpressed
“No, actually, I got a date.” Stiles grinned unashamedly. “It
Request: hello hi can you please write a Jerome imagine where you disguise yourself as one of jerome’s cult members with the heavy makeup and costume and you blend in at jerome’s circus but he (or a cult member) eventually catches you by trying to save your friend from the torture?
Fandom: Jerome Valeska x Reader
Note: this one shot contains violence, torture instruments, blood, swearing, spoilers i guess & weapons. gif isn’t mine. y/n is a bit younger than jerome and dresses like harley quinn (jester costume) as a disguise. the names i made up are mentioned in this story: cindy, erin, katherine and y/n’s friend (y/f/n)
[ image: metal sonic in his sonic rivals 2 jester costume, with some modifications on my part. his main body is yellow with the inside of his jet engine white with a red swirl going around it. his back has a red swirl along the rest of his body. his shoulder and hip joints are red, leading to silver upper arm and thigh pistons, leading to yellow and purple striped armored forearms and calves. his hands are red with purple knuckles and his shoes are red with a purple wheel as the ankle, a purple triangle along the front, and a white dotted line around the entire shoe. his cheek bolts are red and while his head is mostly blue, the ends of his spines have purple and yellow stripes and a red ball on each spine. ]