#<- I say in surprise even though my oc is literally a self insert
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I Am Still Your Daughter, And You Are Still My Mom
This was initially written with my OC (Vizzie) in mind but I feel like it might resonate with a few people. Forgive me lol I'm not a poet but it felt most fitting for this. -----------------------------------------------
There were nights I'd never sleep and seldom do I now but it is still your lullaby I hum to calm me down
There were tears I shed in vain I begged with all my might But you taught me resilience You taught me what was 'right'
You gave me skills I needed to know I appreciate them now I just don't think I'll ever thank you for the 'who', the 'when' and 'how'
The scars you left Are nothing more Than lost memories My soul's still healing But I'm still breathing You won't get the best of me
It was your hands that guided Your hands that held me close Your hands that raised against me But taught me all I know Your hands they brought me up to heights I wouldn't reach myself Your hands that held on way too tight And left me no sense of self
They see you as a monster And maybe I did too But I wouldn't be who I am If it wasn't all for you
I won't thank you for the lessons Or the person I've become I've grown so much without you I feel worth something, to someone And while the feeling's foreign I've learned that love is sweet I'll continue on without you In the afterlife, we'll meet.
If someone out there can hear me I've one last thing to say I wouldn't change a goddamn thing About how I was raised. No she wasn't perfect No parent ever is But I know she loved me deeply And I'll always be 'her kid'.
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Anyways, taglist even though I know a bunch of you have seen already lol (lmk if you want to be added or taken off ^^) @nemisisnemi @distant-velleity @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @starry-night-rose @my-cursed-brain @fluffle-writes
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stoukadraws · 2 years ago
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Happy 3rd Anniversary Chromatale, and Goodnight.
So its about time I say this: I won't be making any content about this AU anymore, so that unfortunately puts it into the discontinued undertale comics category xd
I just really lost the spark I had 2 years ago when making it, so the "little hiatus" that I thought was only going to be a few months turned into more than a year.
I'm sorry to those who were waiting and wanted to see more, but there is another reason why I'm doing this-
It's not gonna be an AU anymore, it's going to be an original story.
I really thought about it for a while and I decided that making it into an original story would give me more creative freedom and I wouldn't have to always stick to one storyline, I wanted to expand the world more as well as the characters, but since its all based on a game with a pretty much solid story, it was hard for me to insert some things that would be out of place or wouldn't make sense.
So, I hope you understand, this AU was truly a learning experience for both my art and my writing since I made it when I was really young and not very experienced, but I'm glad I was able to improve along the way.
Thank you for supporting this AU since the beginning and stuck around!
I plan to make more works surrounding this new story later on, so I look forward to it! And I hope some of you are excited for what's to come. (*^▽^*)
More in-depth explanation + some questions (near the end) :
This is gonna be a bit long so if you really wanna read this whole thing be prepared xd
This whole thing doesn't mean I'm quitting Undertale altogether, I'm still continuing the Strays Au, and I want that AU to be my main Undertale AU now since I've always intended on making it Undertale related and I'm already satisfied with it right now, so I don't intend on making it original or anything.
When I started Chromatale I was still a kid-ish, and I was at the toilet with my phone and idk how it started but I decided to doodle a Sans on my phone and thought "I can make an Undertale AU!".
And so I did. Chromatale back then was reallyyy different, it was a post-genocide story with Sans and Frisk trying to bring everyone back -yeah real original younger me
There was a comic I did on my phone but now its lost in time unfortunately, it went though like 2 rewrites until I decided to make it a full AU with my own story. And so some brainstorming later and the comic you all know today was made!
Again, I was still new to the whole comic making thing and my writing was pretty sloppy, I'm still surprised it got a lot of attention- I was full of passion and really worked my butt off to make each pages, even with school going on (it was online so it wasn't much of a hassle tho) I was determined to finish it and already had a lot of the comic planned.
That is until I felt a bit worn out, my motivation was getting lower until I could barely produce a page, so that's when I decided to put the comic on hiatus, I initially planned for it to only be a few months but then time went on and I still didn't feel motivated to continue it.
During that time I was just doing my own thing, making some OC art and different stories, making another Undertale AU, going back to school and a shit ton of projects to do- I felt like a little weight was lifted from my back, the comic had turned into labor for me and constantly doing updates wasn't very healthy, since during some updates I had to force myself to finish it.
The story was also changing in the middle of it, I had to rewrite chapter 3 since the first version was literally full of "fanservice" that I only noticed when I re-read the chapter a few months later.
I just wasn't satisfied with it, the story that my younger self had in mind didn't fit what I wanted now since I had grown more mature as time went on, the whole AU really taught me what to do and what not to do.
Initially I actually wanted to reboot Chromatale again and focus more on the concepts and solidifying the plot before engaging in a comic, but after some thinking I thought it would be better to transition it into an original story. I really wanted to expand the story more and again gain more creative freedom than being limited to a pretty much complete-ish story.
I wanted to do what I wanted instead of forcing it to fit with the fandom's liking and preference.
Although its going to be an original story some things will sorta be the same but I won't go into too much detail about it.
I won't promise a comic though, mini comics sure but not anything official. Maybe in the far distant future, but I doubt, I still got a lot of other stories I wanna make into comics >>
Now some things I would like to clarify:
"Now that you're discontinuing Chromatale can it be mine?"
-Unfortunately as much as you want to claim it, no. Chromatale still belongs to me. Even if its going to be original now there's still a lot about it during its UTAU days. I still own it, but I don't want to be heavily associated with it. I'd rather have others focus on the new version than the AU version, and I don't want all my other works to be overshadowed by it. I hope you understand.
"Can I still make fanart?"
-Feel free to still make fanart, I won't restrict anyone from still making any. But I'd still like to see fanart of the new version 👀
"Can I still dub the comic?"
-Sure, make sure to still credit me but please specify to viewers that the comic is now discontinued and its become an original story, I don't wanna give the viewers false hope. If your dubbing for fun then go ahead!
Any dub of the comic that has been published has my permission to still be up in public, I won't force anyone to take it down. But please don't use it for any profiting or income.
Now that's been settled, I'm planning on posting some concepts from the AU that I still have since I don't think I'll use some anymore and now that its ok to show now that I discontinued the comic xd
Again, thank you for following me along this journey! See you in the next post ✨
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sapphire-weapon · 2 years ago
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what are your thoughts on the horniness and thirst around leon since the remake came out? and all of the content that comes with it (reader inserts, actual animated p0rn etc)? i saw some teens complaining that it was weird and 'ruining the fandom' - but i didn't really think anything of it since, yk, fandoms are gonna fandom, it is what it is (and it's leon so, it's not surprising).
i remember you mentioning that back in 2005, it was very hard for RE fans to talk abt leon outside of his relationship to ada, so i was also wondering how the fandom dealt with general leon-induced horniness back in the day
oh, this might be my favorite ask I've gotten in a while.
/gleefully rubs hands together
First off, teenagers need to shut the fuck up about the fandom. There used to be a time when you'd go into the Resident Evil tag here on Tumblr and you'd get a bunch of weird model viewer porn of Chris banging Dante or someshit. Early RE fandom was filled with a bunch of zombie-on-Jill (and later, Claire) porn. Sometimes it was even zombie dog porn. I don't wanna hear shit about anything porn-related from some fuckin kids who don't know just how depraved this fandom has been. This fandom was built on fucked up porn.
So, in a similar vein, that Leon thirst has always been there. Always, always, always. Do you think that Leon almost overthrew Chris as the face of Resident Evil because fans just... "liked his character"? NO. IT'S BECAUSE WE WANTED TO FUCK HIM. We wanted him in every hole, in every position, and we didn't care what we had to do to get Capcom to give him to us. The only reason why Chris was never dethroned was because the gays circled the wagons around him with RE5's release.
However.
Reader fics and self-inserts are a very new and recent phenomenon in fandom spaces. Even as recently as the mid-2010s, this was something unheard of. Fandom OCs were not okay. If you had a fandom OC, or if the fandom even suspected that you were self-inserting in any way, you got publicly shamed and sometimes even exiled from fandom spaces.
But there was one big, hypocritical problem with that mindset.
If you can't already see where this is going, let me help.
This is the reason why Aeon vs Cleon got as toxic and volatile as it was, back in the day.
Oh, yes. Fans would pick which of the two women they identified with more, and that ship became their vehicle for Leon smut. So, now, it wasn't just a ship. Now, it was personal -- because fans were using Ada or Claire to self-insert in a socially acceptable way. So, if someone rejected Cleon, and you were Team Cleon, chances are, you took that as someone saying "You're not good enough for Leon. You don't deserve him." -- even if you didn't consciously realize that that's what you were doing or how you were perceiving things.
Back in the days of LiveJournal, you found so many fics of just blatant OOC shit, because it wasn't really about Claire or Ada as characters. It never really was. Ada and Claire were just a means to the end goal that was Leon's cock.
So, if nothing else, modern-day fandom is a lot more honest.
Personally? I'll never be interested in reader fics because of how taboo it was for literally my entire life -- I will always see it as cringe, and I will always question that person's grasp on the line between fiction and reality, even though I know consciously that that's not fair for me to do, and that author isn't doing anything that I wasn't thinking about at their age. But prejudices gonna prejudice.
But I'm fucking stoked that I can talk openly about Leon's cock these days, and I don't have to filter it through some fucking ship that I don't care about. I can just sit here and say to you guys -- hey. I think Leon's into edging, and he secretly wants someone to make him beg, but he's too much of a control freak to allow it, so he just makes his partner beg instead. And no one fucking gives a shit!
It's so freeing. I'm so happy.
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theabsentmindedwriter · 5 months ago
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The OC, Nacho the villager and one heck of a journey.
Nacho is the main character of the main animal crossing fan fiction stories I write. No surprise am I right? To get it out of the way early. Nacho is essentially the same villager I use in the games. By extension he is also a self insert in a way. However, before you start judging...I like to think most of us would want to have ourselves in some shape and form in the fictional worlds we love. That being said, he isn't one for one with me. So it's not like I copied every detail of myself and plop in the story pages. He wouldn't be interesting that way.
You see the villager avatar is basically a true blank slate to fill your own background and stories. Hence Nacho being one of the driving forces in the series. If you read the stories...this guy goes on one heck of a journey. It sees him being transforming and evolving both figuratively and literally speaking.
Now who is Nacho? He is a Mexican Greek man who's family history is quite complicated. You see both of his family tree's connect to the world of mythology. From his Greek side, Atlas the titan of endurance is his many times Great Grandfather. From his Mexican side, it's connected to Mixcoatl, god of the hunt. Quite a family tree eh? Yeah Nacho got something special in him. Which at the beginning was just his physicality and a minor control of gravity. The man was assigned by an organization to be a Monster Hunter from the world of the same name. Where his abnormal durability and impressive strength shows.
Now this was before he became Mayor. So by the timeline of the first story. He had retired with quite an illustrious career behind him.
Now why does he have a career as a monster hunter? Well back during the initial creation of the story. I was still playing Monster Hunter 4 at the time. My brain imagined my animal crossing Mayor being the hunter too and well now you know. Is was an on a whim decision, but I say it works.
As for Nacho's apperance, he is a young man in his early twenties. With tan skin and dark brown hair with eyes to match. Though he had the quirk of dyeing his hair red simply because he liked the color. Obviously fit as well being a monster hunter before. He originally stood at 5'10" before getting taller. As well as older and growing facial hair in the form of a beard and mustache combo.
If I had any images to share I would do so. Unfortunately, I don't have any so you are going to have to use your imagination.
It's hard to talk more about Nacho without getting into heavy spoilers for the stories. Just a lot of background stuff and writing with him came on a whim, or happy accidents sometimes. However role wise he is a leader and a stalwart hero who is ready to plunge into danger. Actually being quite a great mayor who made sure his residents are happy.
He often enriches others by example or trying to being them up. Even in the face of building odds against him. He is the main glue that helps Ankha and Isabelle progress themselves as well. A catalyst for change and self improvement. Which usually comes around to help him during his times of need.
So that's it on Nacho. The OC, the self insert, the villager, but also a character that stands on his own. If anybody is curious about him I am willing to answer some questions to interested people. Until then, thanks for reading.
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tears-of-boredom · 2 years ago
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watching deadly class and god damn thats an identical white boy. just like the other ones. this one gets beaten to a bloody mess more often though. and Saya's name is really god damn close to mine and one time someone pronounced it a bit weird and i got a bit surprised.
tbh im on ep 7 and im kinda losing interest in the plot. ill watch for the bloody dudes though. but this series is definetly not helping me with my temptation for smoking.
yeah im ten minutes into this episode and its really fucking boring. i mean like the villains hot and all but i like do not care for these people enough for this. im just honestly waiting until eveyone gets all bloody again. tbh i was readying myself for boring teen shit cuz of stuff ive seen from the fandom, but i guess i was preparing for the wrong kind of boring lol. i mean uhh marco?? what the fucks even the main guys name lmaooo. im really hoping he dies in a bloody mess cuz the breed of white guy he is looks really good when literally on the brink of death and covered in blood.
anyways yeah im giving up at uhh 27:16 of episode seven. and spoilers sorry but so im watching this on some website for free and i think episode 5 was somehow cut short, because i did not see like chico dying. like any of that scene. i just had to piece everything together from the "previously on deadly class" half minute of episode 6. it doesnt really matter anyways but its kinda funny. also in the pilot when marco tried to kill himself im pretty sure i thought "do it you pussy" and i laughed about that for a solid minute. and at another point i think it was something,, basically just an intrusive thought came related to the scene i was watching, and i laughed about that as well for some time because it was like a horrible thing to think if i actually meant it. shame i dont remember it cuz i bet it was real funny. oh and i was also thinking about the like villain dude, chester i think? i was thinking whether or not the burn scar was prosthetic and im gonna look it up now.
aw man it is prosthethic. idk what i was hoping for tbh, i was just thinking that itd probably be easier to just get an actor that has a burn scar than do all that make up, espec since all the flash backs back to when he doesnt have them are animated, so you wouldnt have like that problem either.
but hey, at least now i know the vibe and basic premise of this show so i can read any fics i happen to stumble upon. that is literally like, top 5 reasons im watching all this shit: so i can read more fics and make sure that im not missing out on shit. thats why i thought this was gonna a be a bit more of a light show, cuz all the fandom shit seemed to be just teens, but its not like im that surprised that teenagers are writing fics about mentally ill trained killers like come on. thats like peak YA shit. also i kinda disliked marco at the beginning cuz he was talking a bit too harshly about "the scizos", but then he had that communist awakening and i kinda like him now. oh and you can call me a snowflake all you want but the word " the r word gets thrown around a bit too lightly for my taste. not rape, the other one.
oh actually i think the intrusive thought i had was something about viktor being gay or something. like way before marco said it. and im really trying to stop calling people gay for looking a bit too hard at someone. or maybe it wasnt that cuz i think viktor was saying some shit about sucking dick and if thats true then i had the full right to call his ass gay in my thoughts.
and before i go,, i fucking love billy. lord knows if i was in that school i would be so fucking whipped for that boy like oh my god. id def be a rat too. and im gonna stop here before i create a deadly class self-insert oc in my head cuz i really dont like this series that much. but billy is so fucking, uhhhh,,,,, well i was gonna say hot cuz thats like the word i use for attractive people usually, but i honestly wouldnt really call him hot.....ummm i mean id say cute if it didnt sound so patronising and infantalising......okay whatever he's attractive and honestly id call him hot if i even got eye contact form him back so...no actually i think just being in his vicinity would be enough....yeah my standards are like so low to the ground, you could manipulate me so fucking easily cuz my nerves would be too shot out the whole time to even register anything. and afterwards id be thinking "no im so aware of myself id know if i was being manipulated". also i already dont trust myself so you could gaslight me real easy as well. i mean id probably kill you if you went too hard with it cuz sometimes i get a bit in my head when frustrated, but honestly my weak ass would be brought down with the promise of like,, a hug. i am really fucking starved of attention and tenderness and literally everything that parents are supposed to give you and i dont have the strength to be in denial about that. i literally started crying when my sister shared an experience with me that i fully related to.
LMAO WHAT THE FUCK DID THIS POST TURN INTO IM SORRY ITS LITERALLY 5:05AM AND WATCHING MOVIES AND SHIT ALWAYS PUTS ME IN A MOOD. well,, i was gonna tag this as "i experienced media" but after this fucking text wall of rambling on i dont think it fits that anymore.
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p---ink · 4 years ago
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Teach Me.
Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 
Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 
Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 
Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 
Word Count: 5.5k
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“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”
His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 
“Would you say its been working well?”
“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 
The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?
“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”
“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 
“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”
“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 
“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.
“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 
“Good?”
“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”
“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”
She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”
“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”
“I forgot abou-”
“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 
“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”
“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 
She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 
Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.
This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 
If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 
His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 
Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”
They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 
“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”
“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 
“Well then we should catch up soon.”
She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”
“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 
“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 
Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.
“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”
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“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.
It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 
They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.
“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”
“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”
“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”
“She’s been good to me.”
“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”
“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 
She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 
“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 
“The offer for triple A still stands.”
“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”
“But this may take a while.”
“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”
Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 
She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 
Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 
It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 
“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.
“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.
“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”
Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 
“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 
“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”
“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 
“Why did you never act on it?”
“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.
“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 
“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”
Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”
“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”
“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”
“They’re one and the same.”
“There is a big difference between the two.”
“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”
“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”
“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”
They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.
“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”
An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 
“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 
She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 
But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 
“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 
“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”
“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 
“Huh?”
“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 
She just swallows, before nodding.
Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”
“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 
“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”
The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.
No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.
She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 
The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  
It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 
It must have been a snowy day in hell.
“What should we do first?” She asked. 
“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”
“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 
“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 
Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 
“Say please.” He teased. 
“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”
And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.
The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 
“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”
Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 
With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 
It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 
It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 
She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.
Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 
A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 
Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 
She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 
As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 
She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.
With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 
With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 
“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 
Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 
With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 
“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 
Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 
“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.
“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  
Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 
Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 
Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 
“Does that feel good, baby?”
But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.
It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 
Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 
Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 
Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.
She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 
Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 
The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.
The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 
“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”
And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.
Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 
He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 
Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.
Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 
His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.
Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 
“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”
“No, Pete!” She cried. 
“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”
“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 
“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 
“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 
“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”
“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.
“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 
“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”
“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”
“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.
“Should I come over?”
“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 
“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”
Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.
Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 
Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 
His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 
Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 
Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 
A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 
Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 
The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 
Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”
His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”
Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 
After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 
Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.
When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 
“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 
“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”
And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 
“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.
“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”
“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 
“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 
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 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 
462 notes · View notes
aerialflight · 3 years ago
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Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)
I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD
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[Naruto]
Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian
Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto
For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.
At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.
Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.
(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)
The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian
Ship: Naruto/Sasuke
“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”
Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.
It will be mercy.
(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)
mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories
Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.
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In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.
(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)
Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)
Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”
(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)
The Governess by Ysmirel
Ship: Kakashi/OFC
"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”
Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”
As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."
In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.
(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)
half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117
Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)
(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)
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[Harry Potter]
fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts
Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius
"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "
Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.
"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "
"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."
Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.
(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)
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[Boku no Hero Academia]
Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo
Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.
But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.
(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)
Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv
Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.
Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.
Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.
On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.
(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)
Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads
Class 1-A is haunted.
Well, not really.
I AM dead, though.
World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.
(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)
invincible by supercrunch for Engrin
Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya
This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.
Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.
Until, of course, he eventually does.
(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”
There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”
In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)
(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)
Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid
Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.
In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.
(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)
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[Stranger Things]
Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling
“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic
Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.
In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.
(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)
(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo
Ship: Steve/Billy
He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.
Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.
“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.
--
Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.
(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)
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[Knives Out]
The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove
Ship: Marta/Ransom
If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.
or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.
(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)
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[Haikyuu!!]
Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids
The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.
But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.
A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.
(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)
like water by speakingincode
Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”
Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.
(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)
twist into your shape by kakkoweeb
Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama
The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.
(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)
Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield
Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura
When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?
Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.
Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.
It's going to be an eventful day.
(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)
a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls
Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura
Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.
(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)
You like me. by roseknight
Ship: Daishou/Kuroo
Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.
(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)
Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean
Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.
What could possibly go wrong?
(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)
(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)
宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue
Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama
Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.
“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”
Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.
He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.
"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.
(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)
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[Crossover]
Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)
Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto
The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.
(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)
Si Vis Pacem by athenoot
Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick
Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.
Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.
Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.
Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.
(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)
-
Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.
(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)
A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia
Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail
Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.
(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)
Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise
Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends
Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.
Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.
Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.
(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).
(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)
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fandomdancer · 4 years ago
Text
The Dance
In the year 2169, you are a senior in high school. You've been best friends with the same two young men since grade school. One of them is your date to the senior dance. The other is the class loner: Eobard Thawne. When your date make a suddenly unexpected move, you find yourself feeling like the perfect night is ruined. But then Eobard shows up...
Word Count: 3,754 words
Rating: T, but may be M
Pairings: OC/Reader, Eobard/Reader
A/N: First attempt at a reader-insert fic. Special thanks to @darlingpetao3 @yetanotherwells @wellsaddict and @hawk-lee for listening to me freak out about this, inspiring me, and giving me the courage to actually post it. I hope it's interesting and fun for you to read.
This is Mattobard's version of Thawne, since it takes place during his teenage years.
This fic was inspired by this song (which is the featured waltz in the story). 'Pride and Penance', from World of Warcraft: Shadowlands.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZtBflZHIcQ
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The moment you step into the darkened dance hall, you feel as though you have been transported back in time. In fact, you can’t help but wonder if the organizers of this year’s spring formal are utilizing some of Rip Hunter’s famous Time Couriers to literally open a door to the past. Everything around is, at minimum, dated back a hundred years ago, from the DJ setting up digital playlists to the black-light-illuminated chairs seated around tables littered with drinks, plates of food, and what looks like games. The music right now is from the early 2000s, but you expect the songs to range through decades, possibly even centuries over the course of the night. Multicolored lights hang from the ceiling, giving the place an overall ‘club’ look, accentuated by the powerful underlighting at the bar.
The temperature increases as you enter on your date’s arm, the exertion from the dancing and milling bodies heating up the air in the room. The dance started only thirty minutes ago, but the excitement in the room is palpable, and kids are wasting no time yelling ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ as they toss back nonalcoholic drinks. One table is already full of kids engaged in what looks like an intense card game with multicolored discs sprayed across the table in front of them.
Catching the fever of the room, you cast a huge grin up at your date, a handsome young man you’ve known since grade school. The two of you are dressed perhaps a little fancy for the event, with him in a fine, high-collared suit befitting a 20th century aristocrat and you in a deep red 1940s princess ballgown. Overdressing is okay: the two of you were expecting a slightly more ‘ballroom’ shindig, not this ‘21st century club’ event, and upon looking around you can see that other members of your class had similar ideas, wearing everything from 1800s Victorian gowns to military uniforms.
“They did a good job,” your date says. “Though one would think they could have come up with a more original theme name than ‘Blast to the Past’.”
“Don’t cheesy titles comprise part of the charm of last century?” you ask as the two of you move towards the obligatory picture arena. “Wasn’t stating the obvious considered not only funny, but…what was the word…a meemee?”
“Meme. One word, one syllable. And yes. Memes were a rather popular form of communication in the early 21st century, though I guess they started well before that.” Your date eyes the line and the picture-taking arena before them. “Is that….a phone booth?”
You are both intrigued as you watch a couple go into the booth, pulling a curtain shut and separating them from the outside world. Their feet are obvious as they scrabble into various positions, each one punctuated by a bright flash ands lots of giggling. The couple emerges, looking flushed and full of smiles, and watch as two thin strips of plastic emerged from the wall of the booth. The two grab the plastic strips and look at them, giggling as they walk away.
“It’s a photo booth.”
The voice right beside you and your date startles you, and you quickly look over to see one of the chaperones for the event, Ms. Steinway, a few feet away. The young teacher looks stunning in a green floor-length gown, her blonde hair floating ethereally around her shoulders. She gestures. “You go in, and you have five pictures taken of you in quick succession. There’s usually only three to four seconds between each photo so people often planned ahead what they would do ahead of time. You can make faces, or be serious…whatever you would like!”
“Thank you, Ms. Steinway,” you say before looking back to your date. “Well. I guess we have about a minute to come up with five different poses.”
“Why don’t we improvise? We’re both good thinkers on our feet.”
The tension and pressure of racing to beat a timed photo session is appealing to you, probably a side effect of all the time you've been spending lately with your other friend, Eobard Thawne. He has a strong taste for competition and it’s been rubbing off on you in the years you’ve known him.
The sudden thought of Thawne makes you skim the room, wondering if the class loner has actually shown up to tonight’s dance. You’re pretty sure he’s not here; this isn’t his type of thing at all. It’s certainly why you didn’t ask him to be your date. It’s also the only reason why you didn’t ask him to be your date. Eobard Thawne’s proud, handsome figure and strikingly keen intellect has drawn many a girl’s attention over the years, including yours, and you’ve made a concentrated effort to ignore it. But lately, you’ve noticed that he seems to be hovering near you much more often. And he got into a fistfight with your date a few weeks ago…you never did quite figure out what had caused that argument…
Seeing him here tonight would definitely open a lot of doors, however. Perhaps you would be brave enough to ask him for a single dance. He can be a truly arrogant ass but he has always been at least civil to you…probably because the two of you have also known each other since grade school.
Your date pushes you forward and you realize that, as usual, thoughts of Eobard have distracted you for several seconds. It is your turn in the photo booth.
The booth is small and simple, with a little touch screen that simply says ‘go’. A quick glance over the screen shows that presets are in place, with no way to change them. It is a little aggravating to not be able to customize the photos but you suppose that’s to get the line of kids moving quickly. With a quick glance at your date, the two of you reach out and tap the ‘go’ button together.
The very first thing he does is kiss you. It’s so fast and so intense that you don’t even have time to react. Suddenly his mouth is open and wet and moving on yours and his hand is in your carefully-crafted hairstyle and you are shocked beyond words because of all the poses you had considered in this run of pictures, your longtime friend kissing you was not one of them. You’ve suspected he felt this way about you and there was no doubt in your mind that he would be an excellent romantic partner, but you hadn’t really…thought about him like that. In fact, the only person you really thought about like that was…Eobard.
He finally pulls back and looks quickly at the camera, grinning widely. Your brain is fuzzed and rolling with several unfinished sentences and questions, but some little part of you keeps control and turns to smile bright and beautiful at the screen. The two of you make silly faces next, and as you are setting up for what you think is the next picture, the screen goes dark. You realize in shock that he used three of the five pictures to kiss you. Feeling frustrated and cheated, you get out of the booth, pasting a smile on your face so as not to appear angry to the line of kids waiting outside. You’ll have plenty of time to discuss his choices later.
The pictures print out and they’re definitely difficult to look at. The first one shows your obvious surprise, but the second two are worse, showcasing your desperate attempt to keep control of what is happening by grabbing at his face and responding to his kiss. It was not your best decision, but you feel like it was your only choice at the moment – and that realization makes you furious.
The two of you head to an unoccupied table, and the moment you set down the photos you whirl on your date, your insides twisted in knots and your throat almost sealed shut from the force of your anger. “What the hell?”
“What?”
It’s even hotter in this room with your anger charging you up. You are pretty sure your face is the color of your dress. “You kissed me.”
He smiles. “Of course I did. What did you think we were going to do in there?”
Your mouth drops open. “Make faces and smile! When did kissing appear on the list of things to do tonight?”
His brow furrows. “When you agreed to be my date. Come now, you can’t possibly miss all the signs I’ve given you. You know me better than that.”
His self-entitled arrogance sets your teeth on edge and you clutch the table so hard you’re amazed it doesn’t bend. “I’ve known you for almost all of my life and you have never been so rude as to just kiss someone without making sure it’s all right with them! You wait for that kind of invitation! You don’t blindside her during a timed picture taking session!”
“Spontaneity has never been your thing, and I respect that,” he begins to say.
You cut him off. “Clearly not or these wouldn’t exist!” You wave the pictures at him before slamming them down onto the table. You don’t know what you’re angrier about now; being forced into this situation before you felt ready, his seeming blindness to how the whole situation played out, or the fact that you feel like what should have been a beautiful moment is ruined and you are never going to get it back.
A waltz begins to play, the very song the two of you were hoping would be the focus of the evening, and he reaches a hand out to you. “You’re right. I made a terrible mistake. I thought it would be fun and I assumed you would be all right with it. I am sorry. I truly am. We will go have the pictures retaken. But will you dance with me? This sounds like a beautiful waltz and I don’t want to have ruined the night by making a terrible decision right at the beginning.”
He sounds sincere but you don’t answer him at first. Your mind is still awash with anger and betrayal and a sudden desire to be anywhere but in this room right now. You don’t want to just forgive him for doing this to you. But you also don’t want the night to be ruined, and right now the song playing sounds like it could be a wonderful dance and you aren’t sure how many more will be played with the selection of music likely being offered. Reluctantly, you slip your hand into his.
“We aren’t done with this conversation,” you state firmly.
“Of course not.” He twirls you gently. “But this song fits you and I want to see you dancing to it.”
You don’t know the name of the song, but it has a haunting melody to it, almost ghostlike with sliding violins. Waltzes always have a kind of built-in grace to them, a slippery seduction meant to make it easy to move to. But this piece has an additionally dramatic vocalist that elevates the rhythm to something royal and aristocratic. You can almost imagine the two of you (and the couples that are joining you on the floor) dancing in the hall of an ancient, grand mansion while a dark storm swirls outside the floor-to-ceiling windows and the dry fingers of tree branches curl menacingly in shadows on the floor, trapping the dancers’ feet in their grip.
“Pardon me.”
The familiar voice snaps you out of the daydream you are drifting into, and you rock slowly back and forth in your date’s arms as you realize Eobard is standing in front of you two. Your breath catches and your heart rate picks up instantly as you look at him. He looks as though he has stepped straight out of your daydream: a young lord trapped in a dying manor, cloaked in high-collared black and red with the light shimmering blindingly on his short blond hair. Even more shocking is the dramatic flair he has added to the outfit: a full-length black cape fastened at his neck with a ruby. He is too beautiful to touch and yet your hands…and other, sweeter, deeper parts of you…ache as you stare at him.
His eyes sweep over you and you think you see his jaw clench slightly before he speaks again. “May I cut in?”
“You’re in our way, Bardo,” your date growls, all softness and politeness gone from his voice.
“I wasn’t addressing you,” Eobard responds to him but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Your throat is growing dry from the simple intensity of his gaze. “I was addressing your partner." He nods to you. "May I cut in?”
You finally register what he is asking, and the thrill that races through you makes you shiver. You had thought you might have the courage to ask him to dance if you had seen him here, but him asking you is completely unexpected. Saying no to him might prevent him from asking again, but saying yes would probably send the wrong message to your date.
Then again, your date certainly sent you the wrong message when he forced you to kiss him in the photo booth.
It’s a very simple question with a very simple answer.
“I would be honored,” you reply, trying to sound as cool and proper as possible. As you pull away from your date, you feel his hands clench briefly on you. You quickly look up at him, seeing the betrayal in his eyes. At first you feel smug, but then you remind yourself that he did apologize. You give him your best comforting smile. “We’ll continue this later,” you say to him, making his expression soften just a little. But the look he gives Eobard is poisonous.
Eobard’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, he unfastens the cape from around his neck and whips it dramatically off, draping it unceremoniously on your date’s still-outstretched arms. “Would you be so kind as to place this on a nearby chair?”
Redness floods your date’s face, and you start to open your mouth to scold Eobard for his rudeness, but his hands grip you firmly and he spins you away into the dancing crowd before you can say a word. Your feet scrabble as you try to keep up, and you have a feeling he’s trying to get you as far away from your date as fast as possible. Focusing on your movements, you catch his rhythm and begin to move in time with him, gaining control over yourself while still permitting him to lead. You’re angry enough now that you’re tempted to just walk out the door after this dance. When did your two best friends turn into such boys? They’re acting like you’re a prize in a competition and while that might be flattering, it’s making you feel a bit like an object and not like the lady you want to be tonight.
“You dance well,” Eobard compliments.
You roll your eyes. “You dragged me out here and I just got my balance back. Don’t patronize me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” he answers. “I mean what I say. I saw you trying to dance with your date over there. He was trying. You were succeeding.”
You snort and sigh. “I wish the two of you would tell me why you both seem to have lost your minds lately.”
Eobard tilts his head. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Your heart pounds and you know what you hope the answer is, but coming right out and saying it feels like a such a terrible risk. Eobard’s emotional difficulties make him dangerous sometimes, the wrong word or look pushing him away for days at a time. You are not going to ruin this night, this dance, this moment that has been playing in your dreams.
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have brought it up,” you say, trying to put an innocent look on your face. You aren’t sure if it works or not, but the hard look in Eobard’s eyes softens somewhat, and he guides you around the floor. Looking up at him, you surrender your mind to the daydream, milking this moment for all it is worth. The seductive waltz paints the image of a great hall, decadent in its decay, the memory of opulence just as romantic as the opulence itself. And Eobard, cold and proud and throat-achingly beautiful, spins you around it, commanding your body with his touch, and commanding your mind with his eyes.
“Your friend and I,” he says in a low voice, “are both seeking your approval.”
Dear God, he actually said it. You’re almost dizzy with excitement as you frantically think of how to navigate the next few sentences. Honesty is going to be key. “You have a funny way of showing it. First that fistfight a few weeks ago and now tonight he just kisses me out of the blue and then you drag me off like I belong to you or something…”
“He did what?” Eobard stops the two of you cold, and you blink, looking up at his grey eyes, watching in surprise as they turn stormy and dark. His pale face begins to flush as he gazes down at you. You can’t tell if what you’re seeing is anger or not, but as his eyebrows draw together you feel your insides flutter. It’s more than just anger. It’s jealousy.
Eobard is jealous.
The realization makes your throat close and you swallow several times as adrenaline floods your veins. The possibilities open up in your mind, and you suddenly realize that while both men are, in fact, treating you like a prize, you are still the one in control.
“He kissed me for our photo,” you say carefully, letting the frustration and hurt show on your face. “I didn’t know he was going to.”
Eobard looks at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his face continuing to grow red. His hands tighten on your waist and hand, and a strange excitement blooms in your chest. Eobard Thawne, so aloof and elitist, suffering from the simple emotion of jealousy. And jealousy related to you, because he’s seeking your approval. Despite the heat of the moment, you find yourself fighting a smile.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asks tightly.
You know the truth and you know what saying it will mean. But right now, you are unable to lie to him, captivated by the thrill of his reaction and the intoxicating crescendo building around you.
“No.”
Eobard’s chin lifts and a smug satisfaction fills his eyes as the music crescendos loudly. With a climactic crash of drums, he decisively pushes you out into a firm spin, and then brings you back in, his hand slipping to the small of your back and holding you flush against his body. And for one fiery, fierce moment, you realize that you can feel him, dear God, all of him, pressed possessively against you, and a weakness makes your knees wobble and your mouth go dry as you stare into his eyes, only inches away, and realize what he is silently saying to you.
Then the two of you are moving again as he takes everything up another notch, whirling you both within the crowd as though you have all the space in the world. The music pounds with your steps, pulsing inside of you, the melody a full-throated cry from the whole orchestra, igniting adrenaline and fire within you. Your mouth falls open to gasp for air as your eyes drift closed. You don’t need to see, only to feel the clutch of his hands and the heat of his body and the light pressure on your waist as he leads you.
And then, in one powerful beat, the music stops. Eobard pushes you backwards into a dramatic dip, holding you up while your hands claw at him. You can’t see the ecstasy on your face but a few gasps from the people around you suggest that the two of you may be in a very compromising position. You don’t care. Your body is shaking and tingling. You feel sweat dampening your skin, and the heat…you’re drowning in it. But you don’t want to move. You don’t want it to be over. Most of all, you don’t want his hands leaving you. Ever.
Your breath comes in heavy gasps as he draws you up to your feet. He steadies you, and your eyes finally drift open. The sight before you makes you shiver again. Eobard is breathing just as hard as you are, and has the same slightly dazed expression on his face that you are feeling. You vaguely realize that while you were trying to keep your balance you gripped his hair and shirt because both of them are bunched and mussed. But neither of you can look away from the other for several seconds.
Finally, he is the first one to move. He gently straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair. He brings his heels together and reaches for your hand. He bows, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on the back of it.
“Thank you,” he says, “for the lovely dance. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I need some air.”
You nod slowly. “I…think I do too.”
Something sparks in his eyes, and he offers you his arm. You consider taking it, but the sensation that sweeps through you as you realize what the implications are stop you. You are awash in powerful emotions now, enough to know that if you go with him, you’re going to do something you want…
….oh do you want….
….but on impulse, caught up in the moment.
You know you need to gather yourself. The night has only just begun.
“I will see you back in here,” you reply, offering a polite curtsey. It isn’t a blatant rejection, just more of a ‘not now’. Eobard seems to understand and his withdraws his hand before turning and striding for the door.
You head for a different exit, catching a glimpse of your date just as you leave the room. His face is a thunderstorm, and you feel a slight chill that cuts through the hazy fog of your mind.
The night has only just begun, and you have a feeling it’s going to be a long one.
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hinaaspanda · 4 years ago
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...and they were (more than) roommates! | njm
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Pairing: Campus Pretty Boy + Roommate! Jaemin x Dancer! Reader
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 9576
Your easily distracted mind had made it maddeningly clear; no song, no matter what the tempo or melody, could take your mind off of your one and only roommate, Na Jaemin. 
a/n; hi! for this fic i tried adding my own oc (Hina) just to spice things up!! lol totally not to insert myself as jenos love interest or anything ahaha anyways please enjoy!
Huang Renjun never thought that breaking off one college relationship would be so detrimental to your heart. 
It really was such a small relationship, just one month of innocent pecks on the cheeks in between classes, weekend dinner dates, and trips around the city on your breaks. It was such a minute thing, yet your heart couldn’t get enough. You grew invested, never wanting to let go. Becoming dependent on mere goodbye kisses. And after one month of being together, you were stuck watching him drift away, fingers intertwined with that of someone new. Now, of course, one question remained; if it was such a short relationship, why in the world did it hurt your heart so much? 
You sat under the brisk afternoon sunlight, gnawing at the cafeteria food as your campus friends began bickering over god knows what. You tune out the ruckus before you, your mind wandering like a lost child between the aisles of a supermarket. An image of him swims into your mind as you curse under your breath. It didn’t matter how healthy your break up was, or how put together your persona must’ve seemed. The only thing you wanted was to be in Renjun’s arms once again. 
Suddenly, you felt the stares of a concerned Hina and Shotaro burning through you. Your shoulders shivering at the sudden thrust into the spotlight. Was your thinking face that miserable-looking? You sent a half-assed chuckle in the hopes of diverting their attention.
“Is something wrong-”
“You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” Your childhood friend, Hina, began rather harshly, throwing off your more laid-back classmate, Shotaro. “About Renjun?” 
The soda that slid down your throat almost shot out of your lips, straight into the air as Hina stared you down, interrogating you. How obvious were you? You pondered for a little bit, your eyes now meeting Hina’s and Shotaro’s concerned ones. You couldn’t defy the truth to your overly caring friends, even if you tried. “...Yeah. I was.” 
The somber air around you thickened with each passing minute as you finished off your lunch for the day. You wince, fearing your friends would, out of disappointment in your inability to shut up about your failed love life, cut ties with you right then and there. You wouldn’t blame them, though. Even you were starting to get tired of your weak, measly heart. Shotaro breaks the silence, a sweet grin plastered on his face. 
“Don’t worry about it, y/n! You just need to find something to get your mind off of him!” Shotaro chirps, his upbeat demeanor infecting Hina beside him. Hina continues, a grin now lining her lips.
“How about another date? With someone new!” 
You almost scoff out loud. “Another date?”
The bold figure of Hina crossed her arms in disbelief. “There are other guys out there, y/n. What about your roommate? Isn’t he single?.”
“My roommate? No! We’re just friends, nothing else!” You quickly retort, waving your hands in a very strong denial. Hina’s head tilted in persuasion.
“You’ll never know until you try, y/n.” Your head hung low as you let out the fifth sigh that day. You loved Hina, you truly did, but with these outlandish ideas protruding from her head, you were convinced she was going crazy. 
...
“What? You gonna chicken out or something?” Donghyuck scoffed through a disgusting amount of food stuffed in his mouth. “You’re telling me the campus hottie’s too scared to go on a date?” Jaemin’s eyes sent nothing but death threats to the aggravating college student, sipping on the vending machine drink destructive to his health. He was offended, to say the least. Offended at how inaccurate his so called ‘friend’ was being, anyways. 
Na Jaemin had it all.  A decent fashion sense, heavenly proportions, good grades and work ethic. A face most people would classify as attractive, and a bright, luring smile to tie it all together. Some say he was the whole package, driving the women of the campus insane as they line up to get a simple glimpse of the school’s resident hottie. He was the campus pretty boy, but one question remained; why was he still single?
It’s been theorized by many, some believing in his virtuous desire to focus on his studies, while others believe he might just swing another way or simply not interested in the idea of romance. But one thing stayed true, Na Jaemin was not some coward who couldn’t get a date. 
The pretty boy sat before his set of now intrigued college friends, Donghyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang, all riddled with such an irritating curiosity it made Jaemin cringe. It was only Tuesday, Jaemin had a tower of school work waiting for him back at home, and the last thing he needed was three idiots challenging his love life. He reached for another sip of his drink, cursing at lack of said drink in the can. 
 “Don’t be stupid, Hyuck. I could get a girl if I wanted to. I’m just...busy right now, with schoolwork and stuff” 
“Oh really?” Donghyuck’s sly voice ticked a flame in Jaemin’s soul. He huffed out a disbelieving scoff as he leaned back on the cheap, plastic chair.   Was he really doubting him? He quite literally had the entire female population of the school at his grasp, and Donghyuck was doubting him? Lee Donghyuck was bound to eat his words, as gross as a child to their ice cream. 
“Yeah, I can get any girl around here, just watch. And if I don’t?” Jaemin’s eyes scour around, searching for a way out another stupid idea before finally landing on the trash pile that was Yangyang’s homework. “...I’ll do your guy’s homework for a week.” 
Everyone’s eyes widened at Jaemin’s proposal, a proposal that stunted even the slyest of prankers, Lee Donghyuck himself. Was he really going all out? Sacrificing a week of freetime for some measly bet? Even stupefying the once unbothered Jeno, trapped in his own, unexpectedly unfortunate love life. 
“Dude are you serious? Deal!” Donghyuck and Yangyang practically hollered, both sending Jaemin a crisp slap on the back. Na Jaemin, how much of an idiot are you?
“So, who do you think you're gonna go for?” Jeno gripped the strap of his school bag as him and Jaemin trotted away from their final class of the day. Jaemin huffed out what felt like the 100th sigh that afternoon. His eyes grazing the trees peeking through the campus windows. Surely he needed a plan, right? No matter how many girls relished in his good looks, he wouldn’t possibly survive without one. Jaemin’s palms grew cold, pupils shaking in a sudden fear. God, maybe he would be stuck writing Yangyang’s overdue essays for the next week. 
“What about that y/n girl?” Jeno suddenly chirped. “The quiet one from the dance department?” 
Jaemin froze in his tracks, looking synonymous to a deer caught in headlights. He tilted his head, puzzled, to say the least. “...y/n?” 
“Yeah, I heard she got out of a relationship recently.” 
Jaemin’s once boastful voice soon grew into a stuttering mess as Jeno walked past him, sending a heartwarming chuckle. Jeno turned around, giving one final look to Jaemin, currently bathing underneath the small snippets of evening sunlight. 
“It’s just something to think about, Jaem. Don’t worry about it too much.” 
...
Your legs were anything but stable as you stepped off the city bus that night. You loved to dance, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said it drained you faster than a mosquito sucking out your blood. The mustard streetlight effortlessly cascaded off of your frame as your wobbly figure began its long trek to your apartment. Sudden buzzes from your phone shook you awake一a sensation your exhausted self clearly needed一before you clicked on the notification. 
Roomie :) [7:34pm]: I bought us some dinner before I got home
Roomie :) [7:34pm]: sorry it’s frozen pizza lol I’m too poor :((
Roomie :) [7:36pm]: oh also I got a favour to ask when u get here
Your mind trails back to lunch, with a familiar phrase replaying in your head for the umpteenth time that day. 
 How about another date? With someone new?
You huffed out another somber sigh, something you found yourself doing a lot, lately. Could you really do it? Could you finally let go of the dead weight? Finally free yourself of the heartbreak tainting you? You feel your heart clenching inside you as you fumble with your house keys. Could your heart handle another simple date?
What about your roommate? Isn’t he single?
No, your roommate didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve being bombarded with the atrocity that was your failed love life. He was too sweet, too caring to deal with anything of the sort. Besides, with how gentle and pleasant he is, it was certain you didn’t deserve him. 
This wouldn’t have been the first time you held your roommate in such high regard. He really had it all, a kind personality, decent looks, and an exquisite taste in cheap, diabetes inducing food. He knew all the best coffee places and knew the perfect times to surprise you with your favorite drinks. He wasn’t just some rando who split the rent with you. He was your friend. A sudden rush of unwanted blood heats up your cheeks as you stop in your tracks. 
He was your friend. Nothing more. 
The golden light of your apartment blinded you as you strolled in. The figure of your roommate was cast before you, dawning his classic ivory shirt and grey sweatpants, paired perfectly with his undone hair, and a plate of steaming hot pizza, straight from the microwave. It looked nothing like the pretty boy image he left your apartment with before class this morning. It was surreal, really. Only you got the luxury to see him like this. It was one of the strange perks of being roommates with the one and only, Na Jaemin. 
“Welcome home!” Jaemin chirped to your sleepy figure. He thrusted the plate of pizza to you, a smile wiped across his cheeks. “Pizza?” 
...
Your heart almost leaped out of your chest.
Your trembling, sweaty palms couldn’t stop shaking since dinner, almost breaking one of your scarce dinner plates in the process of washing them. You couldn’t blame yourself, though. Na Jaemin’s proposal was nothing but calming.
“So, what were you gonna ask me, anyways?” You spat through your mouth full of rubbery pizza. God, you need to eat properly before practice. You glanced at our roommate, currently fiddling with the tips of some miscellaneous fork as he suddenly dodged your eyes. 
“Uh, yea, that.” He stuttered. So timid, it was unreal to you. Usually this man had no fear of asking for favours. Whether it was doing his laundry or fixing up dinner on his assigned day of the week, he would never show any hesitation on asking you to do anything. 
“Okay this is gonna sound weird, but…” Jaemin started, breaking into a cold sweat. “I need you to go on a fake date with me.” Jaemin finally exhaled before connecting his eyes with yours. The whites of your eyes spilled out, along with the juice that almost had the chance of successfully slipping down your throat. He wanted... what?
“Don’t worry! It’s just gonna be one date! I made this stupid bet with Hyuck, and if I don’t get a date soon, I need to do their homework for a whole week!” He gripped the locks of his hair as he slumped onto his side of the dining table.
You shuffled back to the dining room, clenching your paper towel tightly in your palm. Anything to help calm your rapid heart down, just for a moment. “And, you can use this as a chance to distract yourself from that Renjun asshole.”
A sudden pain struck your chest like a lightning bolt to a lanky tree, barren in a grassland. You wince at the sudden calling of that name, your taste buds growing sour. You let out another soft sigh. You really need to get over him, fast. You stretch up from your seat, hoisting up the now empty dinner plate as you trudge towards the sink. But not before stopping in your tracks, tilting your head in Jaemin’s direction. 
“I-uh-I’ll think about it.” 
Oh, you thought about it, alright. Screamed into your poor, innocent pillow about it, at least. 
It all zoomed too fast for you, too swift for your brain to handle. Your breathing grew short and shallow. You felt as if you could die, right then and there, gripping onto your bed sheets while freaking out about Na Jaemin, your bold roommate. No, you couldn’t take up his risque offer. You were in no shape to go on another date, even if it did have no actual meaning behind it. You were too tangled in your mess of a life, and this stupid move would only fan the fire. 
You can use this as a chance to distract yourself from Renjun. 
The phrase rang through your head more time than you would’ve liked. No matter how much you shielded yourself from his claim, Jaemin would still be right in that manner. You needed to distract yourself, sure. But was this the way to go? 
Another sigh escapes your lips as you rush down the hall of your apartment. Your steps, hesitant as ever, dripping in a mix of confusion, exhaustion and nervousness. It’s official. You are the worst at well thought-out decisions. 
“Hey” you huffed at your roommate, eyeing him timidly as he washes the dishes. Something your shaken figure couldn’t properly complete without breaking a glass that night. He shifts to face you, a slightly nervous expression painting him. You clear your throat before continuing, hoping that small cough would stop time in its tracks. 
“I-I’ll go on that date with you.”
His classic boisterous smile spreads across his face once again. If your mind wasn’t rushing around in four different places at once, you could probably admit that you found it the slightest bit cute. 
“Really? Thanks so much! How does this Saturday at 7 sound?”
You only had the mental energy to swiftly nod your head as you zoomed back into the confines of your room, your safe space. You couldn’t help but notice the heat rising back to your cheeks as you plopped back onto the bed, vigorously scrolling through your phone to find your saviours.
the gorls and shotaro [9:48pm]: guys I need help with something
the gorls and shotaro [9:49pm]: let’s meet at hina’s after class
...
“I don’t care if you’re just going on some fake date to lie to his friends, I still wanna make you look hot!” Hina never failed to leave you, Shotaro, and probably some people passing by her house, shaken by her booming voice. With her small, fragile looking frame, she was the last one you’d expect to have such a bold personality. 
“Please, that’s the fifth dress in your closet she’s tried already. It’s just a fake date, we don’t even need to try hard!” Shotaro challenges, his attention leaving a now grumbling Hina as it turns towards you. “Why did you even say yes, anyways?” 
“I dunno, I’m stupid?” You murmur, the hint of bitterness caught in your breath. You give a subpar twirl to your audience, a deadpan expression shielding your face. “I guess I wanna help him? It would suck to do all that homework for a week.” 
“Yeah, but he could easily ask any other girl on the campus. This is freaking Na Jaemin we’re talking about!” Hina once again hollered. An action that would guarantee her a slap on the head if you didn’t love her so much.
“Are you sure it's just for that stupid bet?”
You slip into the makeshift change room, which was really just blankets hung on coat hangers, propped across two sides of a corner in Hina’s room. After making your final decision for your outfit of the night, you change back into your own clothes, stalling your response to Hina’s question. You never knew why you felt the need to stall, though. You should know your answer by now, right?
“Yeah, it’s just for the bet, nothing else.” You find your voice trailing off at those last words of yours as you emerge from the corner, holding the destined outfit that made the cut. Hina sighed, plopping onto the bed like the main character of those dramas after they finally find out they’re in love. 
“Just make sure you aren’t lying to yourself, y/n. It could hurt you.”
“Oh really? Isn’t it time you listen to your own advice??” Shotaro provoked, Hina now shooting up from the bed in irritation. “How are things going with that Jeno guy, huh?” 
“I am going to murder you.” Hina’s voice stayed low, barely trembling before zooming through the door, chasing a now escaping Shotaro and his incredibly fast feet. You, however, couldn’t pray for Shotaro’s survival. Not with your mind stuck in it’s own rut, and your cheeks now glowing a violent pink. 
This was just for a bet, nothing else. You reminded yourself once again.
...
“This wasn’t too bad, right?” His soothing voice swam through your ears softly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm down your heart, which was currently pacing anywhere but your chest. You mustered up all the courage in the world to glance back at his eyes across the restaurant table, your breaths stopping in an effort to hide the sudden rush of blood flowing to your cheeks. With his unbothered eyes locking onto yours in an instant, Na Jaemin sent you another one of his heartache-inducing smiles. “Thanks for helping me with this.” 
This shouldn’t be affecting you this much. After all, the only thing you and Jaemin really did was sit under the restaurant roof, order dishes deemed perfect under the social media lens, and take pictures with said dishes, becoming the perfect pieces of evidence to show that Na Jaemin was no coward. However, with the romantic, first date type outfit draped onto your figure, and the general ambience of the room, you couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit flustered. You shot him another smile, one hiding the forest fire that was your mental state. “Uh, yeah! No problem!”
Silence fell over the two of you as you listened to the clinks of glass sounding off from the dishwashing station behind you. A silence that you wanted to hold onto more than anything. But alas, Your roommate breaks it, glancing up from the ground. 
“You look great, by the way.”
Your cheeks flush a deep vermillion. They’ve been doing that a lot lately.
“Thanks, Jaem.” You barely muster out, dodging his eyes. “But you don’t have to say stuff like that, this is all fake, remember?” You took the time to remind him, not fully sure who truly needed it. You fiddled with your fingers as your ears picked up the sudden ruckus of obnoxious college students coming from down the dining hall.
“You should ask her out, Jeno!” a voice chirped
“No! Are you crazy? She probably thinks I’m weird or something”
“I doubt it, you’re hot! Plus, she’s in my department! I can alway ask-”
“Guys, quick, look! Over there!”
The voices grew closer and closer, the whites of your eyes spilling more and more in utter shock. You can’t help but check on Jaemin, the same expression now burning through you. You mirrored each other so much, you could tell the exact words running through his mind right now. Mostly because they ran through yours, too. Oh Shit.
“JAEMIN!!” The voice of an irritating Lee Donghyuck rang through your ears at an alarming, and unwanted rate. The hollers of an equally aggravating Liu Yangyang from Jaemin’s class, swiftly followed, leaving behind the only tolerable one, Lee Jeno behind. “I didn’t know you’d be here!” 
“Ahaha, hey!” Jaemin stuttered, panic overflowing in his eyes as the three intruders squished into the already occupied, two person booth. His eyes scanned the restaurant, grasping for any way to escape. Afterall, this was certainly not part of the plan. Donghyuck’s curious eyes scanned, too, his pupils finally focusing on you. “And who might this be?”
“I-I’m y/n” You stuttered out, your wrist feeling heavy as you began gesturing to the date in front of you. “I’m his da-”
A lightbulb jumped from Jaemin’s head, his shoulder jolting in response. Na Jaemin wasn’t one for outlandish pranks, especially if you were at the receiving end, which only made your thumping heart wonder; what the hell was he trying to pull now?
“She’s my date.”
Suddenly, your once isolated and vacant hand was tugged to the center of the dinner table before softly getting encased in his. His fingers, notably bigger than your nimble ones, interlocked with yours. Heat began to creep up at your ears. Who knew your hand fit so perfectly in his? You looked down, foolishly hoping that your cheeks would stop flushing into that embarrassing red if you hid it well enough. “See?”
“Oh!” Donghyuck lined his lips with a stupid grin, his eyebrows wiggling as he scoffs in disbelief. Yangyang riled up with excitement beside him, and even the calm Jeno couldn’t stop his jaw from falling to the floor. Na Jaemin did it. He really pulled it off. “I guess we’re disturbing something, then?” 
“No worries! We were just about to leave, anyways” Jaemin still held onto that panicked tremble in his voice as the two of you shuffled through the restaurant booth. He stalked behind you before handing you your coat. “See you guys tomorrow!” 
Your mind couldn’t help but focus on the light touch Jaemin’s palm left on the lower, small of your back as he gently escorted you from the restaurant. You felt like a princess, protected by your knight’s brute strength, as you tiptoed on your path of feathers.  That darned flushed heat wouldn’t leave your cheeks. Na Jaemin, your one and only roommate, was driving you crazy.  
The wind roughly brushes against your cheek as the two of you finally exit the restaurant. The breeze was the last thing you would’ve classified as comfortable, which was why you felt just the slightest twinge of disappointment once the warmth of his hand snaked away from you. His palm hugged the nape of his neck as his eyes softened from their former panic. 
“Sorry about that, I didn’t know they’d show up so randomly.”
No, he had nothing to apologize for. It was your fault for being so greedy. You instinctively widen the distance between you, saving yourself from a wave of embarrassment.  
“It’s fine.”
It’s official, you hated your weak heart more than anyone. 
...
Three. There were three instances in which your heart was set on fire the next day, by none other than the infamous Na Jaemin, of course. 
[10:49 am]
A violent GAME OVER! blasted through your ear drums as you slumped on the couch, watching your roommate die for the 70th time that evening. He let out an equally jolting groan, throwing the controller to the depths of your living room carpet before rushing to check if it was okay. You sat promptly on the couch he leaned against, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as if last night you didn’t experience the most heart-collapsing date in the 19 years of your life. 
Your heart still hasn’t properly healed from it, either. Every time you pass by him in the halls, whether it be a quick snack or a glass of water, your heart never fails to tense up, your throat tightening up in a cruel response. You swear, Na Jaemin was out for your blood the moment he asked you to stay in the living room with him, even if it was to simply watch him fail play. 
“Aw fuck me!” Jaemin suddenly blurted out as he examined the now loosened control button. As if on cue, an army of redness storms through your cheeks as you listen in, his simple word choice setting you off. Your head shakes vigorously enough to give you a pounding headache, before you get the chance to fill your head with certain spoiled thoughts. Wow, you really are evil. 
You didn’t spare him the explanation for your sudden departure from the living room couch. All you knew was that your mind and heart were running haywire, and the only thing that could stop you from thinking about your roommate as anything but your roommate was a deep rethinking of your own morals beside your castle of stuffed animals. 
[2:45 pm]
“Here, I’ll get that for you.” Jaemin’s towering figure shielded your back from the apartment kitchen as he stretched over, retrieving the ranging dish your pitiful frame couldn’t reach. He closed the air between you, his extended chest grazing your shoulder as you stood frozen, your mouth gaping open. He sends you a playful grin as he hands you the plate. “You should try growing a little more, y/n!”
You were too stuck in your questionable haze to tighten your grip on the glass plate, so it was only natural to feel the glass slip through your fingers, shards of the crisp material scattering around your bare feet. Frightened, Jaemin scurried below you, the gentleness of his fingers as he picks up each shard of glass sending butterflies to your stomach. 
“Oh my god! Y/n, are you alright!?” You wanted to scoff at his face. Of course you weren’t.
“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.” 
He glances up from below you, his fingers circling the new scratch on your foot that only surfaced from your astound clumsiness. 
“Be careful next time, alright?” 
You nod hesitantly, staying frozen as Jaemin swiftly works around you; throwing out the dangerous glass shards, running away to retrieve your first aid kit, and patching up your pathetic wound in what felt like one swift heartbeat. God, how pathetic were you?
[8:22 pm]
“Have you seen my hoodie? The blue one?” Jaemin showed no mercy to your innocent door as it swung straight into the wall beside it. You let out an award-winning shriek, your once calm figure jumping from its curled up position. “I think it’s in your laundry bin.”
What he actually had on was...minimal. Nothing but tousled, damp hair and a white towel hooked around his waist. You would let out another shriek if you wanted to, but the lack of air reaching your lungs, all from the utter shock of a half-naked Na Jaemin in your wake, stopped you from spitting out any kind of noise imaginable. You dig your fingernails into the flesh of your poor teddy bear as you shield your eyes from your door frame. 
“Gahh! What are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh.” It finally clicked in his mind that his current appearance was not for the faint of heart. Not for yours, at least. You let out another ear- piercing wail. “Put on a shirt already!!” 
Jaemin let out a boastful, childish laugh. He leaned over, digging for your eyes, which were currently finding anything else to lay their attention on. “What, are you getting flustered?”
Your eyes finally meet up with his as he keeps you hostage with his stare. A familiar heat storms up your cheeks for the millionth time that evening as you grip the limb of another one of your stuffies on standby. With one final whine, you chuck the plush at his direction. Your lack of looking back all in an effort to hide your glowing red face, out for revenge. “Get out!”
“You’re so cute, y/n.” Jaemin teasingly hums as he slips out of your door frame. You let out an exhausted huff, your chest loosening so much, you’re convinced you haven’t been properly breathing before then. 
Na Jaemin will seriously be the death of you. 
...
You knew it was cowardly, but you just had to run away. Your weak heart wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise. 
You wisp into the barren walls of the dance studio, the flickering lights blinding your vision as you switch them on. You shuffle to the corner of the room, dropping your bag before fumbling with the music station. A soothing song swims through your ears as you settle down in the center of the room, an eye keeping watch of your posture. You close your eyes. Maybe this will finally calm your heart down. 
You start slowly, an arm traveling artistically through the air as your legs twirl around the floor. The melody of the music carries your limbs away, leaving your mind alone to think. 
They were just simple interactions, a simple slip up ending with a broken dish, a simple choice of words, a simple clasp of the hands to keep up with some measly lie. They were such small things, so why did your heart light up in flames everytime? Why did each instance leave a staining image of Jaemin in your mind, everytime? 
You think back to the man that held your heart, before brutally smashing it with his own fist. Huang Renjun. He hasn’t grazed your mind for quite some time now, but this familiar feeling wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Your heart soaked itself in that same lonely feeling, the desire to cling back. You froze from your dance, expecting full well your mind would submerge in a pool of sorrow. Yet, this week was just full of surprises, wasn’t it?
Another image of your horrid roommate flies into your mind, your head mentally swatting it away like a pestering insect. Nonetheless, it’s trailed back, persistent as ever, as you grumble your way to turn off the music. Na Jaemin, wins again. 
You could admit, Jaemin kept his promise at shielding your mind away from your failing love life, but he never warned you about the repercussions that were of him seeping into a corner of your heart. His risque, almost flirty behaviour, his teasing remarks, a smile that would brighten up a barren world. He just wouldn’t leave your mind. Yet, you knew you couldn’t have him. If your forest fire of a romance with Renjun had taught you anything, it was that you couldn’t love. You were too clueless, too childish to properly hold someone’s heart. You didn’t deserve anyone’s love. 
After gathering your belongings, you trek out the door. You were so lost in your thoughts, not even the thing you held to your heart so dearly, dancing, could pull you out of your rut. You were in no state to go back home just yet, so your fingers trace your phone screen to look for Hina, your resident childhood friend and therapist, apparently. And you wished you had the luxury of plopping onto Hina’s bed, screaming out all your anger into her pillow as she sneaks snacks up to her room, but your horrid life had other plans. 
A familiar figure stop’s in their tracks, their bag swaying in their grasp一a grasp that was almost loosened in pure shock一 as they connect their eyes to yours. You stay frozen, your breath hitching as you search for anything to say. And by the looks of it, they were doing the same. 
“Y-y/n?” The voice of a flabbergasted Huang Renjun rings through your ear. “W-what are you doing here?”
...
It didn’t take Jaemin long to realize you had left early that morning. Your dance bag left an awkward space beside your night stand in its absence, the dish drying rack was already occupied, with one simple plate and a glass turned over. But more importantly, Jaemin woke up with an empty, lost feeling rumbling inside him一something he only felt when you weren’t around. 
It first occurred during the third week of splitting rent, when you joined the school’s dance team. You had left the room without a trace, leaving Jaemin to search for you like a lost puppy to its reluctant owner, instead of getting ready for his afternoon class. He tried his best to brush it off as simple boredom, but with the way his vision simply lights up in your presence, even he started to get suspicious of himself. 
He couldn’t quite pinpoint it at first, the very reason you always trailed in his mind. It could have been anything. Your immense amount of talent, the wisp of anonymity that surrounded you, one he strived to break to get to know you better. The angelic personality he was first greeted with once he did break down that barrier. Anything about you could’ve easily pulled his heart closer to you. He was in love. 
Nevertheless, he clearly wasn’t obvious enough, as within weeks of beginning your college career, your figure was cradled in the arms of another man. Huang Renjun, resident A+ student and Jaemin’s childhood classmate.  
As the days pass by, and he becomes bombarded with endless homework, the two of you slowly drift apart, returning to the simple ‘roommate’ label on your contact lists. He resorts to the abundance of girls around the campus. Hoping each one he’d fool around with could finally get his head away from you. Yet, as he always comes home just to see your face, so did his heart, apparently. 
Don’t get him wrong, he felt terrible the night you trudged home in tears, the fresh sadness of a break up welling through you. And he tried everything in his power to make you feel better, though it never worked. But一 and he would rather kill a man than ever let this slip from his tongue一he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit relieved that you were finally in his grasp once again.
“So, how serious are you? About her?” Jeno quizzed through the phone, a now distressed Na Jaemin on the other side of the line. Jaemin fell onto the bed, dust particles jumping into the air. 
“I really like her” Jaemin huffed.
“So? Then go tell her! You should be with her, not here blabbering about her to me. Look, you don’t have anything to worry about, Jaem. It’s not like she’s in a relationship anymore.”
Jaemin's eyes widen and Jeno’s nonchalant words. That's right. You weren’t taken anymore. Not trapped in the confines of another man’s arms. It was what he was fighting for, all those months ago. Na Jaemin finally had a shot with you. 
“Are you sure you like her?” Jeno pulled Jaemin back to reality as Jaemin scrambled to the bathroom. He placed the device down on the bathroom sink, his eyes locking in with his reflection from the bathroom mirror. “Yeah.”
He chuckled to himself before ending the call, an image of you rolling into his mind. ‘Like’ would be a deep understatement. He was in love, has been for months now, and he was finally ready to tell the truth. He probably looked like a little kid hungry for ice cream, but he didn’t care. He paced out the door. He was going to finally have you, once and for all. 
...
“She and I are good, yeah.” Renjun stuttered out, not looking past the drink he hastily purchased before the two of you sat down in the campus cafe. “What about you? How have you been?” 
With all your might, you stopped your throat from belting out a petty laugh. How have you been? Was he being serious? You’ve been pleasant, aside from all the inner turmoil ringing through your heart at the moment. You sent a bogus smile at the man in front of you. “I’ve been...alright.”
The awkward silence suffocated you, squeezing your throat so tight, not a single sliver of air could slip through. Why did he come across you now of all times? And why did he have to be so much more emotionally sound than you were? Renjun shifted around, clearing his chest with a small ahem! You knew he was always a man who would never beat around the bush, and today was no exception. 
“I’m sorry…” His sudden confession shook you to your core, the liquid inside your glass mimicking your shivering movements. Your eyes, out of pure shock, finally take the courage to graze across Renjun as he continues. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I know I didn’t give you that much of an explanation back then.” 
Your eyes retire back to the wooden table in front of you. He didn’t need to apologize. He didn’t need to explain himself at all, not when your greedy heart was at fault. “I knew I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I wasn’t enough for you.” 
“You don’t have to apologize, Renjun.” You were having enough trouble forgetting him as it is, you didn’t need this. 
“I didn’t wanna lie to myself, so that’s why I left you so abruptly like that.” He explains, his fingers turning white from his grip on the coffee cup. Your breaths grow short, your mind scurrying to find the hidden meaning behind his words. All this time, your mind retired to the idea of him running away from your clinging figure, claiming that now rash narrative as valid; correct. Tearing your heart up into little pieces in the process. 
“So we didn’t break up because I was being...selfish?”
“Selfish? Of course not.” He comforted. “You deserve someone else, someone way better than me.” 
Your mind trails back to your roommate once again, his smile growing more contagious. You find your lips sneaking in a small smile at the thought of him. Except, this time, no twinge of sorrow had followed. Like a bag of bricks lifted off your shoulders, you were finally free. You shined a genuine grin, your first in a long while. “So, we’re good?”
“Of course, y/n.”
You were so trapped in your own childish thoughts, you didn’t notice the hasty booming steps crash through the cafe door frame. 
“Y/N!” The voice of your roommate flew through your ears, striking you like a deer caught in blinding headlights. His volume was so loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard him from the outside of the cafe.  “I’ve been looking all over for you!”
...
Usually, Na Jaemin was laid back. Generally unbothered with a smirk lining his lips every now and then. It was one of the ways he stayed on top of the collective campus hierarchy for so long, he was always calm, cool, and collected. He always was, except for today. Instead, he was scrambling at his feet, thumbing through every inch of the school, looking for the infamous y/n. 
He finally skips to the cafe, the faint scent of coffee and flavouring overtaking him. He was a panting mess, his hands gripping at the bolts of his knees as he leaned over in pure exhaustion. It was weird, Jaemin always considered himself to be decently fit. It must’ve been you, suddenly turning his world upside down. 
She’s gotta be here. 
As if on cue, your head pops up on the corner of his eye, basking under the afternoon sunlight which generously seeped through the cafe window. Your eyes weren’t on him, but that wasn’t the worst of his problems. His eyes travel further down your direction, his limp legs mindlessly following like a puppet on two strings. Your eyes weren’t on Jaemin. They were on someone else. 
Renjun.
A familiar clenching feeling pulls on his heart harshly, so much so, that his hands reach up to palm the pain through his chest. He’s only felt this rude awakening one other time in the 19 years of his life; the moment you left the house on your first ever date with Huang Renjun. A flame ignites within him as he stalks up to the table. With his heaving breaths and awkward, stiff posture, it was inevitable he'd summon a couple of stares from various customers, but he couldn’t care less. 
Usually, Na Jaemin was laid back, but because of you, he became this gross, jealous, poor excuse of a man. 
“You didn’t have to be so loud, you know!” You found your voice peaking at the end of your sentence, probably gathering more attention than what you were currently lecturing Jaemin for. A blush stained the circles of your cheeks, though you were never quite sure whether it was the embarrassment of being the center of attention, or the fact that Na Jaemin came rushed and disheveled, looking for you. You cleared your throat to hide your obscene thoughts一a practice you’ve been getting the hang of, lately. “What did you need from me anyway-”
“Why were you with him.” Jaemin cut in. Although, with his stone cold frame now towering over you, his eyes; unassuming and distant, and shallow, hitched breaths, you weren’t even certain this was the same roommate you couldn’t get out of your head for the past week. You simply wave your hand away. 
“We just happened to meet up by accident, and we got to talk some stuff out, that's all.” You prayed that your calm voice could soothe the currently tempered man before you. Of course, however, it didn’t. 
“Was it really?”
“Yes! Okay, Jaem? What’s with you today?”
“Don’t visit him anymore.” His voice boomed towards the end of his sentences, startling even the finest of nature as two innocent birds fly away in fear. 
Something didn’t click, didn’t sit right in your head. Since when was he so demanding? So rude? You found yourself slowly backing away from his figure, an action you thought you’d have to do in your life. Before, he was always a safe space for you, even without your confusing feelings for him. He was always there for you. But now, the air around turned gray, and you were scared more than anything. You scoff, throwing Jaemin off. 
“Are you telling me what to do?” 
“I’m only worried for you, y/n.”
“Worried about what, exactly? That I’d get back with Renjun?” You stand firm before him. Y/n, what the hell are you doing now. To your own dismay, you continue. “Why would you care about that anyways?”
“Am I not allowed to care about you!?” He practically hollered at the top of his lungs. A fire welled up inside you, with no way of fanning it down. Who does this guy think he is?  
“Last time I checked, we didn’t have anything real! Everything between us was all a damn lie! So no, maybe you don’t!” 
You lay one final blow straight to Jaemin’s chest, knocking him down like a line of concurred dominoes. Your heart clenches in a cruel response. You were right, factually correct, but the truth always came with a price. Spectators began to crowd around the scene, as a fuming Jaemin stalks towards you, closing the distance between your shoulder blades and brick wall behind you. 
“WELL MAYBE I WANTED SOMETHING REAL!” Jaemin retorted, eyes holding a flame you never thought your calm roommate could ignite within him. The air around you grew cautious, the only things sounding off were the weary engines driving past the scene of the crime. His breath grew shallow as it brushed against your skin, your trembling figure watching as he let out an aggravated sigh. His fingers, laced in irritation, comb through his hair as he softens his voice into one final whisper. 
“But you don’t want anything like that, right? ‘Cause you’re still caught up with that Renjun asshole?” 
“Jae-”
“Forget it” Jaemin spits, his eyes finally dodging yours. He backs away from your trembling figure, his hands buried in his pockets as he quickened his pace away from you. Jaemin hissed under his breath, everything finally clearing up in his head. You didn’t want him, You were never ready to move on. It’s official, Na Jaemin couldn’t have you, and he never will.  
...
Your brain always had a knack for remembering things, keeping random nuggets of knowledge stored deep within random crevices of your head. Your brain always had a good memory, and today was no exception. 
Forget it.
You could probably liven up a lifeless desert with your endless tears that stained Hina’s pillows that night. It would be life or death to retire properly to your own home, not with the atrocity that was this afternoon still thriving in your wake. One more bottled emotion, and your body would simply burst out of existence. You could only properly pinpoint three of them; exhaustion welling up in your feet, confusion tearing through your brain, and guilt overflowing in your heart. 
“What am I gonna do?” you weep through the flesh of Hina’s teddy bear. After tossing the empty pop can into her makeshift trash can, Hina plopped onto her bed beside you, drilling a finger straight into her temple. “You need to tell him how you feel, y/n, you can’t just leave him in the dark like that. That’s probably why he got so riled up.”
Your eyes shake as they stay on the ground. Hina shuffles around arms crossing in a full interrogation. “You do know what you want, right?”
Slowly, and without much thought pulling at your strings, you slowly nod. “Well then, what is it?” 
An image of your roommate shines into your head once again. The kind roommate you had the great luxury of coming home to, the one always saving you a slice of frozen pizza for when you arrive, the one who reaches the irritating dishes at the top of the cupboard, the one you couldn't get out of your mind. His heartwarming demeanour, his charming smile, his everything. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. With a twinge of determination, you lock eyes with Hina.
“I want it all to be real. I wanna be with Jaemin.”
Hina rested her back onto the plump mattress, a smug grin lining her lips as she crossed her arms in pride. “So you’re finally gonna start listening to me, hm?”
...
“Are you sure about this, Jaem?” Yangyang has never一in Jaemin’s two years of knowing him一sounded so concerned for his friend’s wellbeing. It sent shivers down his spine, how pitiful Jaemin must’ve looked right now. His fingers grasped the horrendous stack of papers; one wrong move could easily decorate the floor with the homework, and Jaemin was...concerned, to say the least.
“Why are we even doing this? You won the bet!” Donghyuck hugged his own stack close to his chest as the three boys watched Jaemin’s head sink low to the floor, and watched his heart sink even lower. “Yeah, about that...”
Even if the truth hurts, it needs to be said, right?
“...Y/n wasn’t my date at the restaurant. I never asked anyone out, actually. The truth is… she’s my roommate. I only asked her out on a fake date so I could keep the bet going.”
Jaemin felt the confused, yet somber stares of Jeno burn through his skin. It only made sense that Jeno had a few questions; Na Jaemin’s beaten up, hunched over figure was nothing like the lovestruck, head-over-heels Jaemin he’d witnessed just a couple of days prior. “But it didn’t work out that well with her, so here I am, ready for the punishment.” 
It struck Jaemin’s chest more times that could count, slashing at his heart, his pride, everything he loved. How could he be so foolish? Convincing himself his simple crush could ever reciprocate his feelings. Could ever love him back. Nevertheless, it was more clear now than ever before. To you, he would always just have one label; a simple roommate. 
“Jaemin-” Donghyuck reluctantly brushed his palm on Jaemin’s shoulder, his best excuse for a peace offering. Jaemin, however, finally snapped, shooting a glare through the eyes of his rather persistent friends. 
“What? You were right, okay? I can’t get any girl I want. I really am just a coward, so I deserve this!” Jaemin slumped his figure一drenched in a sorrow he’s gotten quite familiar with, as of late一into a cheap, cafeteria chair, his heart leaping through his throat. 
“She was the only one I wanted, anyway, so what’s the point?” 
“I think you got a few things wrong there, buddy.” A familiar voice rang through Jaemin’s ears. The whites of his eyes spilled out of their sockets as Jaemin shot up. You couldn’t blame him, though. The last thing he expected to see was his childhood classmate, Huang Renjun, before him. “You still have a chance with y/n, Jaemin.”
Jaemin sent a rough hiss at Renjun before slowly backing down at Renjun’s unnaturally calm demeanour. “What?”
“I’m not after her anymore, nor is she after me.”
Jaemin’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Then why-”
“It was an accident, we didn’t mean to meet up like that. And that talk at the cafe? It was all for closure. It was something she and I both needed, a lot, if I might add.” 
“So… you weren’t trying to get her back?”
Renjun squinted at the utter dumbassary currently blinding him at the moment. “No, are you stupid? I have a girlfriend. And besides, when she first saw you barge into the cafe, her flustered reaction tells me she feels the same way, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” 
Heat rushed over to Jaemin’s cheeks, the cause being a 50-50 blend of pure embarrassment一from letting his jealous heart take over his mind一and the simple, but beautiful thought of you. Everything started to fall back in their rightful places. His head was finally cleared, his anger had finally wisped away. And more importantly, you were moment’s away from being his. Moments away from retiring the ‘roommate’ label. 
Donghyuck leaped from his seat. A directing hand pointed towards the dance department wing as Donghyuck shifted into his ‘fight or flight’ stance, riling up with energy. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CONFESS!!”  
Without any further hesitation, Jaemin shot from his seat, his eyes etched with determination, and his heart moments away from bursting through his chest. Donghyuck let out a defeated sigh, arms crossing in disappointment. “God, I can’t believe the campus playboy is such a wuss!” 
...
Your easily distracted mind had made it maddeningly clear; no song, no matter what the tempo or melody, could take your mind off of your one and only roommate, Na Jaemin. It also didn’t matter that you spent a whopping one night without his bedroom just across the hall from yours; as your heart was still drenched in the guilt you couldn’t seem to get rid of. However, one thing was made clear that night. Your heart purely and utterly belonged to Na Jaemin alone. Only one thing stayed in your way; he may more may not hate your guts now. 
Your palms dripped in a cold sweat as your limbs begrudgingly swam in the air. It was bad enough your dance instructor gave not one, but two lectures about getting distracted to blow your ears dry, but even after that public display of embarrassment, your head couldn’t stop recounting the different ways you could finally tell Na Jaemin the truth; the whole truth. 
I want the real thing with you
I don’t just want something fake, Jaemin
I wanna be with you
That last statement threw your cheeks into a heated, rosy frenzy. You cup your hands attempting to hide your horrid thoughts as your dance instructor, with a few deadpan words, sets your class free for the evening. You scurry to the corner, peacefully shoving your things into your bag when Shotaro’s voice suddenly rings behind your ear. 
“Y/n? Oh yeah, she’s right over there.” 
“Great, thanks.” 
  You freeze on the spot. You could recognize that voice from a mile away. It was almost concerning on your part. 
“Y/n!” The voice yelps, in a tone you hadn’t heard in a while. You smile under your breath. You missed his cheerful voice. You slowly prop up, dropping your bag to the depths of the dance room floor. You pivot on your heel, your chest coming face to face with none other than Na Jaemin, in the flesh. “I need to tell you something.” 
After scrambling out of the dance room, certainly not attracting the attention of any unwanted instructors, the two of you hide behind the studio entrance. Jaemin stood just centimeters before you, his breath shivering despite the warmer weather. Although, and you wouldn’t be surprised, but this warm sensation could simply be deriving from your cheeks, which was nothing new. 
“I’m sorry I lashed out at you yesterday, I never wanted to be mean to you or anything, I was just… heated, yeah.” Jaemin finally began, scratching the nape of his neck. You didn’t like the fact that he was the one apologizing to you, when you knew it should’ve been the other way around. “You don’t need to say sorry, Jaem. I lashed out too and-”
“I was being all selfish, when I really should’ve been thinking clearly. I-I was jealous when I saw you two together, and I couldn’t take it.” 
You stopped dead in your tracks. Jealous? He was jealous?
“Truth is… I’ve liked you for some time now, probably ever since we first met. And while the fake date was really fake…” His eyes finally lock yours up, keeping them hostage in his determined glare. “...I really wanted something real between us.” 
Jaemin’s hand reached down, cupping your nimble fingers in it as he kept his eye contact tight. His breath hitched as he eyed you, all flustered and adorable with your eyebrows furrowed in a hopeful confusion. Everything about you made him want to cradle you in his arms, never letting go, forever. 
“Can I be more than just your roommate, y/n?” 
You stayed frozen, mouth gaping wide open at every confession he threw at you. You stayed so still, the only thing visibly moving on your body was the rapid blush zooming through your ears and cheeks, except this time, you didn’t feel the sudden urge to hide such a sensation. Your mind didn’t carry the necessary brian capacity properly function, so naturally, your arms did the job for you. 
Your palms cupped the edges of Jaemin’s jaw, a sudden confidence surging through you as you pulled him closer. The tips of your noses collide moments before the surfaces of your lips. You melt into a passion filled kiss, a kiss that’s been pending since the day you first moved in together. Jaemin hugs the small of your waist as you hug his neck. Instinctively, your stomach tucks itself, hiding the embarrassing butterflies fluttering within it. You felt like a celebrity, kissing the campus’ pretty boy; Na Jaemin. Your eyes flicker open. 
“Of course you can.”
Your’s and Jaemin’s world crashes back into reality at the sound of a pestering holler, one which Jaemin could only sigh in grief to in response. You turn around only to find a snooping crowd right behind you. Shotaro, joined with two of Jaemin’s friends you first met at the restaurant; Yangyang and Donghyuck, jump for joy at the sight of you two, while a distressed Hina rips her hair out at the fact that she missed the most world shattering confession scene known to man. Jeno, to the right of her, calms her down in a heartbeat. Those two were really perfect for each other. You turn back to Jaemin, a wide grin now taking over his face. He tightens the grip around your hand, a hand that you noticed he’s never let go since he first arrived at your department. 
“Do you have another class after this?” “No, why?”
A sly smirk lines his lips as he raises an eyebrow. “Then, shall we go home, darling?” 
Gosh, he was such a dork. “Of course.” 
The long awaited kiss between Hina and Jeno was much more dramatic than any first kiss you could’ve imagined. In fact, it was practically ripped right out the current episode of the drama you and Jaemin had settled down to watch. The air was filled with cheerful hollers roaring from Yangyang and Shotaro and the pathetic wails of Donghyuck realizing that一with Shotaro’s crush on the new girl on campus and the random girl Yangyang met online一he would be the last one standing in the terribly single committeeTM. Jaemin grumbled beside you, his head tucked under your chin as you sat cradled in his arms
“Jeez, Jeno’s stealing my thunder!”
“Let them live, Jaem. They’re in love.” 
Jaemin huffed with over exaggeration. “I can’t believe Jeno would betray me like that!”
You pulled Jaemin’s chin up, his face now inches from yours. “Why don’t you forget about them, alright? Just focus on me instead.”
The two of you lean into a kiss, basking in the afternoon sunlight that was peeking through the campus roof. It didn’t matter who was around you anymore, whether they were random strangers or your annoying yet close knit friends. You had already won at life, being the girlfriend of the infamous Na Jaemin; your very special roommate.
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dawn-of-tomorrow · 3 years ago
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shoutout to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs for this ask game!! (didin't expect to be tagged with one so soon lolol but i'm overjoyed~~ 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。❤️❤️)
1) What made you even think of trying Punishing Gray Raven? What made you stick with it?
Funny story actually-- I've long heard about PGR, way back when it was first released even, but I just didn't give it a chance back then mainly because it was in CN and I couldn't understand shit (rather ironic given how I am now lmao).
As for why I decided fairly recently, a couple of months give or take, to give PGR a shot? It's mainly due to the fact that I heard that the Global version would be out very soon, so I thought why not dive into what I've missed so far... not knowing that I'd become THIS obsessed with the game, aha~.
The most obvious thing that made me stick to this game are the interesting cast of characters, the "fun" story, the amazing yet simple game mechanics, and etc. etc.
2) What problems, if any, do you have with PGR?
Honestly speaking, the thing that most VEXES me at the moment about PGR, specifically PGR Global, is the wonky translations. It feels like a group of half-assed fan translators and one official translator who's not doing a good enough job with reigning everyone in instead of feeling like a group of professional translators who know what they're doing. Hell, I've seen better translations from some of my twitter mutuals!
3) Who is your favorite Construct, and why?
Lee. There's no question about it, Lee is my most favorite Construct at the moment (and forever perhaps ohoho~). As for why, god, hold that mic for a bit, I'm gonna go on a fucking rant. Ehem.
First of all, let's start with the most basic of things, like his appearances; As Palefire, he looks like this suave, very aloof, super serious, unapproachable, and "gets shit done efficiently" type of person, and while that description certainly isn't wrong, it's also hiding more layers of Lee's overall personality; as Entropy, he certainly looks and feels bit more casual than before, along with feeling somewhat more, even if a tiny bit, more honest with his feelings and easier to approach than before.
Despite being a serious, no-nonsense, grumpy guy, he's prone to occasionally quip and snark at anyone at their own expense especially if they get on his nerves (see his interactions with Kamui, not even the Commandant is spared from this!). He's also not as cold and distant as he may come across, given that, early on, he quite literally jumps in front of Liv to take a hit that was meant for her with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever, he's almost always the first person to make comments on the Commandant's state as well as express his undiluted feelings (though not without hiding it on occasion behind anger/annoyance, thus making it a case of "anger born from worry").
You can also easily tell if you pay close enough attention to his dialogue and actions that he's not good with expressing his true feelings even to the people he cares about (thankfully Murray, Skk, Lucia, Liv, Kamui, etc. can usually pick up on what he really wants to say), is the type to often be misunderstood due to him being the kind of person who believes in "actions speak louder than words", that he's used to taking care of others instead of prioritizing himself even to his own detriment; while making it clear that he prefers to think and act in a logical and practical manner, he's not exempt to having emotions/feelings, as such, he can be pretty empathetic towards other people even if he doesn't look like it (he's even the first one in the Gray Raven squad to point out WHY EXACTLY the people they come across in Echo Aria refuse to leave their homes even with high risk of the Red Tide washing everything away, and fully understanding as well as getting it).
Alrighty I'm gonna cut that segment short now before this becomes too long for anyone to read through, ehe~!
4) What made you think of designing PGR OCs, instead of making yourself into a self-insert?
.... Actually, truth be told, both of my Skks are, in some way, self-inserts~. It's just that they start out as one before eventually developing into their own characters with only hints/traces of their self-insert origin. Though my Construct OCs are definitely not self-inserts, that much I can certainly say so!
I made them mainly because I really enjoyed the official cast so much I wanted to make characters that would get to interact with them somehow, though I take great care in making sure they aren't TOO out of character with how they're canonically portrayed.
5) What's your thought process behind creating your OCs?
Honestly, it usually starts of something like this--
"lol wouldn't it be funny if I made this type of character? Oooh, what if they interacted with this character? Or this character? Or that character? Let's see, what's missing... Backstory and profile, check. Appearance, I'll sketch one in a bit. Hmmm... I know! *drowns the OC in mountains load of angst*"
6) What's your favorite chapter from the main story?
If I'm limited to talking only about the main chapters currently released on Global then it would have to be Fallen Star, mainly because it's Watanabe's time to shine~. (*´∀`*)
However, if we were to look at the overall chapters, then, I would have to say Imprisoned Sight.
7) What do you think of the new Liv shown in the latest stream? Where do you think the story is going with her? What do you think happened to Gray Raven?
With Liv, I have a really bad and somber feeling about what Kuro Game has in store for her, given how she looks almost complete different than what she's looked so far, as well as the vibe her new look gives off.
Fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to thanos snap her memories away as well like they did with Lucia, or worse, infect her with the Punishing and turn her into an actual enemy (for a while before we get her back).
As for Gray Raven, considering what happened at the end of Evernight Beat, wherein the Skk is in a fucking coma with a chunk of the Mother Structure lodged in their abdomen, while Lee and Lucia are in repairs along with Liv, and, if I recall correctly, the Merciful One managed to reach Babylonia and is now onboard the space station as well-- I have a feeling that the despairing Liv will be approached by her and be given a new frame.
8) Have you seen the animated shorts? What do you think of them?
If you're talking about the Panini anime then yes, I've watched them already! Still ripping my insides open from laughter everytime I watch them lol. Favorite episode has got to be the toilet episode, next to that would be the episode where Chrome takes Kamui to Karenina and Liv for training.
9) So do Constructs eat or not? (I'm really confused, especially since I saw Karenina sipping a drink in one of the shorts)
Oh they most certainly can! Fuck, it's even explicitly stated that Camu likes to eat and sample foods whenever he can (revealed in his secrets, as well as his affection stories).
As Camu explains, while they don't get nutrients from human food, they most certainly can still enjoy them and use them as a type of fuel.
10) Do you think Kamui and/or Camu will be a really pivotal plot device at some point, considering how the information on Kamui is so top secret?
Hmmmm.... unless the story at that point is revolving around Kurono Ops and how shady they're being, then personally speaking, the chances are slim.
11) Do you think, at any point, any of the Gray Ravens will die off?
Naaaaaah. They won't do that. Sure, they TECHNICALLY killed off Lucia, but she's still "alive" in a sense, so it both counts and doesn't count.
Besides, sometimes death isn't the worse thing you can inflict on someone/a character~.
12) Who is your least favorite Construct, and why?
I don't really hate/dislike any of the Constructs if I'm being honest. Though I hate how shitty of a unit Sophia is, and that it's kinda pitiful that she's become even more useless now that the new S-Liv is here; but I am in no way saying you should stop using her, keep using Sophia if you really like her! It's your choice after all, and I'm not about to contest you on that part, after all, everyone's enjoyment is subjective.
13) What part of PGR's lore really holds your attention?
The part of the lore that really holds my attention are the characters, and seeing how they react and act to the situations happening to and around them, especially concerning the Punishing and forces out of their control~.
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emerald-amidst-gold · 4 years ago
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18 19 20 27 28 from the protag questions <3
Ooooo! Lots of goodies! o3o You all spoil me~! X3
Thank you so much! Let's get into it! >:D
18. What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?
Grey morality. PFFFFT!
I'm serious. I have a habit of creating characters that have questionable methods to situations, but yet can be empathized with or even sympathized with. Fane, Rylen, and Elise all do what they have to do, and it's up to the audience to formulate whether or not they agree or disagree with their personalities and actions.
I'll say this once because I've had people in the past kind of...bash me for it, but just because your character has a specific view does not necessarily mean you as the creator share that same view. That isn't me throwing swings out at self-inserts or characters that are reflections of their creators, this is just how I feel in response to my own characters. I try to disconnect from my characters because I want them to be their own. I build the foundation, give them a name, a history, or a family to influence them, but I don't steer their minds, their decisions. They flow the way they want to flow. Simple as that. Fane is the OC that is most reflective of me, but not with everything. He has his own methods, own reasons for thinking the way that he does and so do I.
I think it has a lot of my fixation on making characters teeter has to do with how I interact with the world in real life. I just...don't see black and white. I give everything the benefit of the doubt and I hold my ground concerning my views even if others might see them as 'wrong' or 'controversial'. I'm horribly analytical and I'm always like, 'But what if...'. That's just...me. XD
But yeah! Grey characters are my vice and I'm not sure if I'm doing it right most of the time, but I try! :3
19. What is the biggest difference between your protagonists?
Mainly how they approach situations and their feelings surrounding leadership.
Fane is rash, doesn't plan, doesn't think everything through before acting or he just outright chooses not to. He tends to make decisions on his own, but mainly only in battle. In more diplomatic settings, Fane is the master of deferral. XD He divvies out tasks that he feels aren't his area from either a lack of interest, a lack of confidence in himself, or just feeling that someone else would be the better option.
Rylen has his moments of brashness, but he's pretty subdued, go with the flow type of deal, but most who know him intimately know he's pretty high strung when it comes to matters where his voice has power. Man's a ball of stress and anxiety. PFFT!
Elise is the calmest out of the three. It was practically trained into her in the Circle. She's also just inherently docile, but after the Blight she does have moments of being feral and unhinged. That mostly happens if one of her companions are in danger or if her own life is threatened. She's not afraid to make her voice heard, either. Generally, Elise is soft spoken, but she will stand up for herself and other people, despite the grief it could cause her.
20. Who handles responsibility the best? And who handles it the worst?
If Fane puts his mind to it, he can handle responsibility pretty well. His want to involve himself deeply in matters doesn't happen until after Adamant and only gets stronger and stronger after Trespasser. Fane is a force when he wants to be and Solas tries to draw that out, to make him realize he can do whatever he puts his mind to. However, Elise would be the best in terms of responsibility. She had a lot in the Circle, even more during the Blight, and a substantial amount as Warden-Commander. Does she wish she could rest? Of course! But she doesn't complain because she knows she can make change. Rylen's okay with responsibility; he becomes Viscount after all. But, he is prone to slacking off at times, but really only after the Chantry explosion. The guy is TIRED. What can I say? XD
All in all, none of them bad at handling responsibility. They just have different ways that they go about it! :D
27. What would their fears on the graves in the fade during Here Lies The Abyss be?
Yes, yes, yes, YES! The question! The big question! The question that leads to Fane and Solas' first kiss! AHAHAHAH! >:D
Elise - Betrayal. This is more in terms of Elise towards herself and her own actions. She's afraid that everything she's ever done has been one great betrayal to everyone and everything she has ever cared about. She had no choice but to witness Jowan become Tranquil, Alistair, so hurt and angered by her decision at the Landsmeet, abandoned her to face the possibility of the death alone, her faith was sundered after the Broken Circle, making her fear her magic for the first time in her life and making her wonder when she would become the very monsters she had just finished killing. The list goes on. Elise made so many decisions in service to the world, but she silently wonders when it'll all come crashing down around her, when everyone will leave her because they'd been betrayed.
Rylen - Wasn't enough. Rylen wrestles constantly with the fact that he's never been strong enough. He wasn't strong enough for Carver; the ogre ripping him from their family and pounding into pulp. He wasn't strong enough for Bethany; unable to protect her from the templars, so he opted to take her to the Deep Roads, thinking it would be safer, but it wasn't. He wasn't strong enough for his mother; his eyes focused on the horizon rather than the ground that began it all.
And he hadn't been strong enough to end Corypheus for good. We all know what happened wasn't Hawke's fault, but Rylen the master of blaming himself for everything, so that's one event he dwells about every. day. every. night.
Last, but not least, FANE. *sounds the horns* You ready? You ready?! >:D
Fane - To be forgotten. That's right.
That's Fane's biggest, deepest fear; to be forgotten. I know there's only been a few chapters of my main fic that kind of reference this, but you know how Fane constantly says to himself, 'I wish I could be forgotten. It would be better if I would just disappear and be forgotten.'? Yeah, it's a front. He's trying to convince himself that that's what he wants, but in actuality, it's reversed. He's terrified, terrified of being forgotten by the world, by his sister, by the Inquisition...
...by Solas. That's the worst person who could forget Fane. And around the time of Adamant, Solas and Fane being the stubborn fools that they are, act as if they haven't known each other for fucking centuries even though the truth literally screamed at them after Haven. They were lost together in the mountains with that truth hanging between them, and still they ignored it because it hurt and they both felt they didn't deserve the hope that they could be together. Fane attempts to unearth some lost memories, some lingering feelings, but Solas wasn't ready and guided them away from that unopened bag, refusing to let Fane in on his agenda or allowing him to help in any way. It gets to a point where Fane starts to believe Solas doesn't actually recall their relationship, who he is and he spirals pretty bad in the Raw Fade when that tombstone is glaring at him.
When Solas sees it...he cracks. Quietly, in his mind, but he realizes how stupid he'd been, how stupid they had been. The truth was looking at him in two tones and he ignored it out of fear. It's what spurs Solas to take Fane into the Fade and show his dragon the place where he had endeavored to make sure the other would never be forgotten. Solas also makes it clear that he had never forgot Fane, ever.
"I could never forget you, my dragon. Your memory lingered within the halls of my mind even as I slumbered. I am but a fool, a fearful fool. I thought it kinder to let you live a new life, unburdened by my burdens. I do not wish for the past to repeat itself, to see two tones ebb away and breath leave your lungs once more.", Solas said, eyes downcast, pained grimace housing sorrow, grief, and despair in its curves. "...But, it is not kinder. It is more agonizing to try and forget than it is to remember. Though, I have never tried to erase you from my memory nor have I tried to abandon what I felt for you--what I feel for you.'
Fane frowned, tugging on the mage's forearms to bring him closer, urgently, but timidly; Solas didn't even protest, but his eyes remained downcast. "What do you feel, Solas?", he asked and received no answer. "What do you feel, Solas?! What can't you forget?!", he repeated, voice echoing off the halls of death and remembrance. He needed these words, he needed to know!
What did the sky feel?! What did it remember?! He just wanted one damned answer in this upside down world!
Solas' eyes shut slowly, chest rising with a deep inhale. "I..", he started, but paused again, face twitching with hesitance and reservation. "No, it's not--!"
Fane growled low. "Enough! If you won't tell me,", he barked, yanking Solas forward by his arms, barely registering the grunt of surprise that left his lips, and shot his hands up to hold a bewildered face. "...then show me!"
I tease~ >:3
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28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?
I answered this ooooonnnneee HERE! >:D (I would just copy and paste, but it LONG. ADHDKS)
And there we have it! Beautiful! Perfect! And FUN! X3
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plasticnightmaredoll · 4 years ago
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I wanted to share the writings I am currently working on because it really is a personal “triumph” for me of sorts. After having an unpleasant experience with someone in a different fandom, I kind of lost my desire to write 😯. I lost all confidence and motivation, and even though I had ideas I could have written down, I just didn’t feel the joy anymore. 
It was months before I started to slowly get back into writing, although, for a different fandom. Not sure if I will return to writing for the fandom I was sort of left disenchanted with thanks to someone, but I am at least writing something -- anything. And I actually am having a fun time again!
These are the ideas I have that I am working on or hope to work on. Now, I can’t promise if any of these will be done any time soon, nor can I promise if I will complete all of these. Some may be abandoned, some may take a short time to write, some may take a very long time to write. But to celebrate my return to writing, I wanted to make this post.
Now, I am not trying to brag. I’m not a professional writer and I still have lots of things to improve on. So, don’t think I’m trying to act all “high and mighty.” Trust me--I have tons of insecurities about my writing! 
Anyway, here’s the list:
N/SFW Alphabets:
NSFW Alphabet for Telltale Games Penguin/Oswald “Oz” Cobblepot
SFW Alphabet for Telltale Games Riddler
SFW Alphabet for Arkham Knight Riddler
Headcanons:
NSFW + SFW Headcanons for a polyamorous relationship with Telltale Riddler and Telltale Penguin
Fics/Drabbles
“Look What I Found” - Arkham Knight Riddler x Female Reader/Female OC/Self-Insert (haven’t decided which it will be yet) (a collection of samples for this one are available here)
Summary: Basically, AK!Riddler gets his shit together after catching feelings. It just takes him some time to realize that he has developed feelings and, of course, he has to figure out how to reveal them to his lady friend (legit friend, not “that” kind of friend lol)
Notes: Will contains lots of fluff and some smut. Features Riddlerbots being cute. The title is that of a song by Lady Gaga, from the “A Star Is Born” soundtrack. It kind of fits what the plot of the fic is about, I think. May have an “epilogue” fic with LOTS of smut.
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Untitled AK Riddler Birthday Fic - Arkham Knight Riddler x Female Reader/Female OC/Self-Insert (haven’t decided which it will be yet)
Summary: Edward receives a surprise gift from his lady friend (no, not “that” kind of gift lol “That” comes later 😉) for his birthday, the first present he’s gotten from anyone in ages -- if he’s ever received one. He’s touched, but also internally panicking because he hasn’t ever gotten her a present. So, what will he get her in return?
Notes: Will contain mostly just fluff and probably no smut (I know, it’s a shock to me, too 🤣). Will feature AK!Riddler being adorkable
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"A Man Who Makes Me Alright” - Telltale Riddler x Female Reader/Female OC/Self-Insert (haven’t decided which it will be yet)
Summary: Tons of smut, some humor, and a good helping of fluff. A sort of “slice of life” drabble with Telltale Riddler and his lady, you could say. 
Notes: Will contain Daddy kink, just so you know in case it’s not your thing. Will contain Dom/Sub stuff because, let’s be real: Telltale Riddler is a fucking Dom and I am a hardcore Sub 😂. It’s not going to be, like, EXTREME, but it will be kinky. Will also be an age gap pairing but the lady in question is NOT underage, so you don’t need to freak out. But I also know some of you may not like age gap pairings so...fair warning. Very strong chance it may be a self-insert fic, and I’m half Telltale Riddler’s age so it won’t be an epic age gap pairing. This also means the fic may get a little personal -- and not just in regards to revealing some of my, uh, “interests.” Title is a line from Lady Gaga’s song, “Teeth.” I love her, ok? The song fits the pairing and content of the fic anyway.
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Untitled Enigma/Edward Nashton x Lorelei Jones (my o/c) fic 
Summary: What the title suggests. I made Enigma a hot detective girlfriend 😂😂😂 But in all seriousness: She’s still a WIP, but most of her character has been developed. The story is meant to take place while Edward is at the GCPD, right around the time he decides to blackmail the shit out of Gotham’s corrupt elite. However, things go much differently than they do in the “Arkham Origins” game.
Notes:
One major change from the “Origins” game is Edward’s motivation to go through with this blackmail plan (let’s just say he’s doing it out of love, to put it simply. The other major change is that he doesn’t become Riddler. Is it a spoiler? Yes, but not a big one. That’s actually what started this fic and the creation of Lorelei Jones: what if Edward Nashton never became Edward Nigma, the Riddler? What if something transpired that “saved” him from that descent into madness, depression, and obsession? Was if this sassy, sexy nerd actually got a happy ending instead of a tragic one? Will contain a lot of smut because...it just will 🤣 Hey, I want Enigma to have a real good fucking time, ok? (quite literally in this case 😏) Will contains plenty of fluff, though, and a decent amount of angst. 
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That’s all I have in the works for now -- and thank the lord because this is enough to keep my busy for a good while. Like I said before: no promises on when or if any or all of these will be finished, but I’m going to do my best. Hopefully nothing knocks me on my ass and ruins my motivation...
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uwuch9n · 4 years ago
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hey !!! today i’m gonna be trying to write some fluff to calm myself down and also try out something new in the process ! hope whoever reads this enjoys it :)
characters: kenma, nb y/n (self insert or oc) and a bit of kuroo :D
warnings or possible triggers: ear biting, neck kissing, wrists/arms being touched, stressed/overworked/anxious reader, and a thunderstorm/heavy rain ! please do not continue reading if any of these things could trigger any unwanted reactions ! maybe the next time i write some fluff or sfw fanfics you’ll be able to read ‘em !
a nice welcome home.
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after a long day at your new job, a manga artist, you decided to end your shift for the night and head back home. you wiped the sweat off your forehead but the stress wasn’t easy to get rid of. the office wanted the manga to be done as soon as possible and you couldn’t get the last few pages right. it was very obviously a hard week for you. luckily it was a friday so you’d get saturday off, but sunday you had to go back.
after getting yourself together you stuffed your things into your bag and walked out to get in your car.
“hey there y/n! lookin great huh, i see you’re ready to go home to lil kenken right?? how you doing?” said kuroo as he ran into you right outside the establishment. he worked near that area and decided to stop by, luckily he walked into you at the right time.
“im doing well,, i guess.. i just was overthinking a bit but i’m sure tomorrow, or even tonight, i’ll be able to refresh myself and relax..” you said almost trying to avoid contact for the time being. kuroo noticed you didn’t seem to excited about things and so he decided to give you some words of encouragement.
“i’m sure whenever you get to relax you’ll be ready for work again! and besides you got a lil pal waiting for you at home, don’t you look forward to that?? he’s pretty good at comforting,, and i should know”- he chuckled. you gave him a smile and nodded in agreement. you let out a sigh and walked off to your car right before kuroo grasped your left shoulder and pulled you in for a hug. he patted your head with his hand and reassured you. you got a little flustered,, but kept it in.
“you’re doing amazing, really. i know you work really hard, so make sure to cool off, ‘kay? you got this in the bag!” he said, you clearly being able to sense his smile through his decently raspy voice. he let you go and gave you a little push to get you back together after the short hug, and you both waved goodbye.
well that was quite an experience. you knew that kuroo wasn’t a homewrecker, especially when it came to kenma’s s/o, but he was getting much more comfortable and supportive with you. that made you happy, but after thinking about what had just happened, you refocused and started your car.
you drove through the freeway and noticed all the billboards promoting businesses that you knew you’d rather be working at. you meet a stop sign and let out a sigh while other cars drive by. when it’s time to go, you go, as one would normally do, but you noticed that some water droplets were gently hitting the windshield of your car. it started getting a bit rougher and even more water droplets starting hitting your windshield, only this time they got louder.
you could hear all the other cars driving by thanks to the water that was slightly flooding the streets. you make a swift turn into your apartment complex and slowed down as you arrived at your apartment. you park at your designated spot and turn off your car. you adjust your bag straps that had fallen off your shoulder without you realizing, and reached into the back side of your car to get your umbrella. unfortunately it wasn’t there so you’d have to get wet, and it was raining pretty heavily. you sighed and reached into your cup holder for your apartment keys and got the right key ready in your hand for when you got to the door.
you slam your car door and lock it.
“goddamit” you let out as you start feeling your clothes getting humid. your shoes were hitting the floor inundated by the rain. you started running towards your door which fortunately was on the first floor. you inserted the key into the keyhole and turned your wrist gently as you peeked into the window. you could see the flashing lights of the tv. kenma was probably playing games again.
you closed the door and brushed yourself off as you glanced at kenma who had turned to see what that noise was. he knew it was you but he still wanted to see your pretty tired face. you gently took of your shoes and put your jacket and bag on the racks on the wall next to the door. you pushed your shoes with your foot and went to put on your favorite slippers.
“hey love, how did today go..?” asked kenma in a soft gentle voice, as to not startle you while you still were trying to shake off the water that had been absorbed by your clothes. you look up at kenma with an exhausted expression. “today was very stressful,, my manager told me to hurry up,, the artwork is due literally wednesday of next week and i can’t even get the stuff i’m working on now finished and-” kenma stopped your rambling by gesturing a hug and making gentle movements to come here with his small hands. you looked at him with a surprised expression, and then quickly changed it to a pleasant smile.
by then you realized that he had paused his game and the music of the game was still playing in the background, only a little quieter then when it’s actually on. you head to his little pile of blankets and pillows, and saw your favorite stuffed animal and a few snacks already set up for you for when you came home. that made you feel a lot better than before. “hey kenken, what’s all this stuff?” you asked acting clueless, but also trying to hear what he had to say about the setup. “it’s just a few things for you to pick out from,, i even brought you your little frog plushie; i know you like it..” he said while grabbing it and handing it to you. he blushed a little as you took it from his hands, gently caressing his as you did.
you took a look at a frog plushie but before you could get a full 360° look of it you saw kenma’s slender hands covering the two small black eyes of the plush. he set the plush down on your lap and grabbed your wrists. he knew your wrists were probably tired and sore after all that nonstop sketching at work, so he started gently rubbing them with his thumbs. he looked at your hands as he did, and then looked up at you. you had a cute shocked expression which he loved to paint on your face. he giggled and then went in for a kiss on the cheek.
after his soft tender lips were lifted from your cheek, you felt a bit of rustling and then a little blow on your ear which made you squirm. he bit it gently and kissed the side of your neck, while you sat there a bit flustered. kenma was usually the type to just give you a kiss on the cheek and continue playing his game, but recently you were getting much more attention from him. you didn’t mind it though, you kinda enjoyed it rather.
“you don’t have to give me neck kisses y’know..” you said hoping that he wouldn’t listen and just continue for a good minute. he of course didn’t stop and completely brushed off what you had just said. he moved to your shoulder and started kissing it, and then he pulled away. he look at you and gave you a smile, leaning in for a kiss afterwards. you kissed back and then grabbed him by the shoulders. both of you were blushing intensely, his blush just a little more calmed down, but it was there nonetheless.
“let’s eat some snacks, shall we?” you say after pulling away from the kiss and sitting there being a hot mess. you could hear the rain only getting rougher and rougher, and at one point you heard thunder. it was gonna be a loooong night. “let’s do that then” he said smiling as he reached over to the bowl full of strawberry pocky and small chocolate chip cookies. he fed you a stick of the strawberry coated biscuit and you nommed down on it happily, while he pulled away the excess pocky stick and brushed crumbs off of your lips with his thumb. his hand grasped the side of your face and he went to kiss your cheek once again before feeding you the rest of the pocky.
kenma turned to face the tv and then slowly got up to grab another controller for you to play with, since he was already playing a game and he wanted you to play along as well. you watched his flimsy self get up and come back to the floor in front of the couch. he sat down criss cross apple sauce style and handed you the controller, all while the thunder was still alive and the rain was still pouring.
“do you want to keep playing this game or... another game i have in our room...?” asked kenma in hopes that you’d say you wanted to continue playing the game he was already playing. he didn’t want to get up when he was right next to you. “this game seems fun, i’d love to play it with you” you said happily as you took the controller he had handed you and held it correctly so that he could get the multiplayer setting on and you’d be ready when he did.
you heard silly sound effects from when he switched the setting to multiplayer, and it filled you up with motivation for some reason. the thunderstorm and heavy raining didn’t bother you anymore because you knew you’d be safe with kenma. the music of the game got louder and kenma slowly lowered it a bit as to not disturb the apartment building. “you have to jump over the brown mushrooms and then jump into the green tubes and-” “..super mario bros..? don’t worry baby i know how to play this one” you winked at him and he let out a giggle.
he layed his head on your left shoulder which made you blush, and you followed it with a wide-eyed expression. he didn’t look too into it though, he was just focused in the game, and for him it was only nature. you rested your head on top of his and continued to play. time passed and it was around 2 AM. you and kenma had played for hours, and kenma was seemingly getting pretty tired, just as you were. “hey bub do you want to maybe go to bed now?” you suddenly paused the game and asked. “bed..?” he looked confused. he directed his eyes to the couch behind you two and you followed, quickly looking back at him.
“do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?” you put the puzzle pieces together. he nodded his head. “you don’t have work tomorrow so i figured you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me on the couch....” he said quietly in hopes that you would. you grabbed his face with your warm hands and kissed his forehead. “yeah of course i do!” you said trying to be enthusiastic, although your tired face barely allowed it. you both got up and he laid on the couch. you tried getting the bowl of snacks from off the floor and bring them to the kitchen but kenma quickly pulled you into his arms.
“tomorrow.. tomorrow we can clean up...” he said exhausted as you now were covering his body with yours. you adjusted yourself as did kenma and you both got into ‘cuddle mode.’
his arms wrapped around your body and you slowly started to kiss him all over. he laid his head back onto the arm of the couch. you relaxed your stiffened body, and closed your eyes as the music from the video game slowly faded away into nothing. kenma’s arms rubbed your back and moved to your head and shoulders. he gave you a final kiss on your head before drifting off to sleep.
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that’s all ! i hope you enjoyed this self insert x kenma fluff fanfic ! if this does any good i’ll consider writing more fluff in the future :))
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neerasrealm · 4 years ago
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AAAAAAAAAAA I LOVED that poly!Slender x reader x LJ!! I didn’t originally request it, but if it’s not too much, can I please request a sequel (featuring the adorable Slendra Jackson?) Ty! 😁😁
Anon you have no idea how happy this request made me- I NEVER get asks about my OCs so you calling Slendra adorable and aSKING TO INTERACT WITH HER??? MADE ME REALLY REALLY HAPPY SO THANK YOU- sorry this ask took a bit to answer, I only got your ask late in the evening so I had to finish it off over the course of my morning. Thank you again for the ask!! I hope you like what I came up with- (put it under a cut since it’s a little long)
‘’More wine, dear?’’ Slender asks you from across the couch. It’s late, and quiet. A rare combination here in the mansion. Somehow, every other person in the mansion is downstairs, in their room or somewhere else. Meaning you and your two boyfriends are free to occupy the couch by yourselves and have a quiet evening, and you couldn’t ask for more. Being curled up against Jack’s soft body with Slender’s arms wrapped around you both. Even Jack is being quiet for once, his face resting against Slender’s chest. He might be asleep- you’re honestly not sure.
‘’Sure.’’ you murmur back, looking up at Slender. He seems to smile despite his lack of face and reaches over to the coffee table, pouring you some wine from the already-half empty bottle sitting on it. A benefit of not being human, you guessed, was being able to drink a lot of the stuff without worrying about intoxication. As you’re taking another sip from your glass a soft, shy voice interrupts you.
‘’Mama? Pops? Dad?’’ 
The three of you look over at the voice’s owner. A short girl with fiery hair and brownish-purple skin. Her eyes are bright and gold, and she has pale red horns and dark red claws that scratch gently against the bannister she’s holding. Your shared daughter- it’s odd, she’s not related to you, she’s adopted like every other child in the mansion, but she’s one of the few that calls you mom. Everyone took fairly naturally to you dating the mansion’s ‘dads’, just treating it like you were dating anyone else, but Slendra? She’s been calling you mom since day one. Not that you're complaining.
‘’Need somefink, luv?’’ Jack murmurs behind you. He sits up a bit. 
Slendra shifts where she stands. ‘’...can I get a bedtime story?’’ she asks quietly. Slender IMMEDIATELY sits up, alert. ‘’I-I know I’m a little old for it but-’’
‘’Ye can’t ou’grow bedtime stories, kiddo.’’ Jack says. Slender nods. You can’t help but smile a little bit at the two’s excitement- though Slender’s is far more obvious. You can’t blame them. Slendra is beginning to hit that- odd phase where kids think they need to act like adults. Except she’s only five years old. Damn demon aging. ‘’Ow abou’ me an’ Slen do i’ fer ya? I’ll do th’ voices an’ ‘e can narra’e. Like when ye were li’le.’’
You look at the two of them. ‘’I want in too.’’
‘’Ye can be th’ damsel in distress.’’
You give Jack an offended look and playfully slap his chest. ‘’Rude. Slender fits the damsel role better and you know it.’’
‘’...I do look good in a dress.’’ Slender says as he climbs off the couch. You and LJ cackle in amusement. Slendra giggles shyly.
The three of you follow Slendra upstairs to her room and walk inside. Her room is like a mix between Jack’s room and Slender’s office. Her walls are a deep lavender with darker swirls running across them. Her bed is round, oddly, and covered in pillows. She has a desk piled high with books and papers for her drawing and writing habits and her ceiling is covered in not only glow in the dark stairs, but music notes too. Her carpet is soft and your socked feet sink right into it. There's shelves on nearly every wall, full of toys, trinkets or books.
The little demon girl crawls into her bed and grabs her favorite stuffed toy- a purple and green dog you tried to win for her at a carnival but...well of course the game was rigged. It was actually her older brother EJ who managed to win it for her. With a little help from his demonic strength of course. She named it Scam, and you’re still proud of her for that.
The three of you all sit down at the foot of her bed. "Wha're ye in th' mood fer then?" Jack asks.
"Can you make a story?" Slendra asks, her eyes shining. A toothy grin curls up Jack's face. 
"Oh, I ge' ta flex me wri'in' t'nigh', eh?" He reaches into a puffy sleeve and pulls out a book. Slendra grins excitedly. You glance at the book's cover. Apparently Jack's homemade bedtime story is called 'The Damsel's Dragon'.
He clears his throat and opens the book. "Once upon a time, there wuz a pre'y young lass named…" Jack holds the book over to Slender. He shoots Jack an annoyed look and sighed.
"Damsel N. D. Stress." He finishes in the most airy, feminine voice you've ever heard him do. The three of you laugh while Slender fixes his tie. 
"Damsel wuz th' pre'ies' lass in th' land. People came far an' wide ta see 'er an' 'er collection 'f antique ties. All th' men in th' land wanted 'er 'and in marriage, bu' she wanted none 'f tha'." You watch Jack hold the book over to Slender again. 
"I hate you." Slender mutters. Slendra giggles. "Oh if only a big, handsome clown would come to admire my ties... if only…"
You laugh so hard you almost fall off the bed. Jack's hand reaches over quickly, his palm against your back, and pushes you back up. You snicker. "Sorry, sorry continue."
"Damsel spen' 'er days in 'er castle, wishin' an 'opin as th' worl' wen' by. Until one day, th' castle began ta shake! 'Er ties fell off th' shelves, 'er wine smashed to the ground!"
"Not the wine!" Slender exclaims in that airy, overly dramatic voice. You snicker again. 
"Th' castle stopped rockin' an' Damsel ran up ta th' top tower ta see wha' 'ad 'appened. When she go' up there, she saw a big migh'y dragon sleepin' on 'er castle's roof!" Jack stops and nudges you. "Ye're th' dragon." He whispers. You grin. 
The book is handed to Slender again. "Mr dragon, whatever are you doing up on my roof?" He exclaims. Jack holds the book over to you. Slendra looks at you excitedly. You're nowhere near as good at voices when compared to Slender and Jack, but Slendra doesn't seem to mind. You clear your throat.
"I'm taking a nap of course!" You growl out. Jack smiles as he passes the book to Slender again.
"Fockin' 'orrifyin', luv."
"Jack!" The three of you yelp. He laughs a bit.
"Sorry."
"Well you can't nap up here!" Slender continues with the story. "This is my castle! You have to go somewhere else!"
You lean over Jack's shoulder to see your next line. "Mmmm…No." You say. 
"Now Damsel wuz'nt tha' dumb. She knew be'er than ta argue wiv a dragon, an' so she wen' back into 'er castle an' began lookin' fer a way to ge' rid of th' dragon." 
"Good to know you don't see me as a total idiot." Slender murmurs.
"Wha' do ya mean? This isn' you, i's Damsel."
"Of course it is."
Jack grins to himself and looks back at the book. "She looked through 'er ye ol' phone book an' foun' somefink ta 'elp 'er!" He looks up at Slendra for a moment. "Th' mos' famous dragon extermina'or in th' worl'. 'Er name wuz Jackie Ardlens."
You force yourself to to 'awe' at the Slendra self-insert. She doesn't seem to have realised the character is literally named after her. 
"Jackie came ta th' castle an Damsel led 'er up ta th' tower."
"It's terrible!" Slender exclaims. "That great big ugly dragon does nothing but snore all day!"
"I don't snore." You retort. Slendra looks at you. You clear your throat. "I don't snore." You say again, this time in your dragon voice. She laughs. 
"Oh dragon," Slender continues with the story, ignoring you. "I've brought someone to drive you away!" You can't help but smile at how much he's actually getting into this role. Slendra is certainly enjoying it too.
"Huh? Drive me away?" You growl back at him. "How am I supposed to fit into a car?"
A grin curls up Jack's face. "Jackie stepped forward an' looked up a' th' dragon." He passes the book to Slendra who looks surprised, but then smiles wide.
"I've come to make you leave this poor lady alone!" She reads. "Why do you want to stay on this castle so bad?" 
"Why the sun of course, it's nice and warm up here. And this castle is the comfiest bed I've ever had!" You read back. 
"Hm…" Slendra cups her chin in her hand, pretending to think. "Well I say we build a new tower for you to sleep on! That way both of you will be happy."
Slender clasps his hands together. "Of course! That can be arranged." He says. Jack takes the book back and turns to the very last page.
"An' so, they buil' a big ol' tower fer th' dragon ta sleep on, an Damsel continued ta collec' 'er ties an' live 'appily ever after." He closes the book and smiles. "The end."
Slendra smiles wide. "I liked that one."
"Good." Jack leans in and kisses her forehead. "Now ge' yer res, swee'pea." He says softly while Slender pats the girls head. 
"Mama?" As you're following Jack and Slender out of the room Slendra calls you. You stop and look at her, curled up around Scam, a bright golden eye looking at you. "I love you."
You swear you can feel yourself practically melt for a moment. You smile at her. "I love you too, sweetheart." You say softly. She smiles, a couple fangs glinting in the light, then closes her eyes and snuggles up under the covers.
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innytoes · 4 years ago
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Self-Insert January: Let’s Go Steal A Protégé
Yes I did write a self-insert fanfic of my own fanfic. Most of this was written in December and then um, January happened. This takes place December, probably before Christmas (and is obviously not canon).
Happy Self Insert month!
Being with Leverage, Jamie had seen a lot of weird stuff. Done a lot of weird stuff, too. But all the breaking into highly classified places and museums and pretending to be a circus performer and jumping off the Eiffel Tower did not prepare them for the magic portal that opened up in the ceiling of the Leverage Offices, or the lady that fell through it.
Luckily, their startled yell had summoned an Eliot, which meant that if this was the beginning of an intergalactic space war or some kind of mutant criminal rival of Parker’s, Team Leverage was going to come out on top.
Except Eliot actually put away his knife and greeted the lady, who struggled out of the squashy purple beanbag chair she landed on. “Hardison, Parker, Inny’s here!” he called.
“What the hell is an Inny?” Jamie asked. Was it a species of alien? Was Hardison’s Doctor Who obsession because they literally knew The Doctor? Honestly, it wouldn’t really surprise Jamie.
“I the hell am an Inny,” Ceiling-Lady said, before gasping and pointing at them. Which was concerning, to say the least.
“That’s Inny,” Hardison said, coming into the office and handing the lady one of Jamie’s Mountain Dews. Rude.  “She’s from a darker timeline and drops out of the ceiling once or twice a year to catch up. And get inspiration for her fanfiction. Apparently we’re like, a TV show over there. What’s up, girl?”
“Is that why nobody is allowed to move the beanbag chair?” Jamie asked. They had thought it was some weird Parker thing. Or perhaps that it was on top of some kind of secret trap door to Hardison’s BatCave or something. They ignored the part about the fanfiction and the TV show. That was too Truman Show to think about. Though their brain was already going over actors they’d cast as the team. Eliot would totally be played by Chris Evans, right?
Inny stopped chugging the Mountain Dew long enough to shrug. “They used to live somewhere with way lower ceilings. Nearly broke something falling from this one.”
“Yeah, me,” Eliot grumbled. He nearly broke something again when Parker dropped down from the ceiling onto his back. “Dammit, Parker!”
“Inny!” Parker proclaimed. “How is Deeks?”
“Good!” the lady fished a beaten up phone out of her pocket. “He met some alpacas, wanna see?” Parker snatched up the phone and made delighted noises. Jamie peered over her shoulder. They had to admit the dog was pretty cute, and the alpacas looked very intrigued by their small, same-coloured, short-necked friend.
“How’s life in the darkest timeline?” Hardison asked.
“What date is it here?” the lady asked, looking around. “I mean, if you still know.”
“Why wouldn’t we know?” Parker asked, still swiping through dog pictures.
“Well, I mean, 2020, am I right?” Inny said, waiting for a reaction. She looked incredulous at their blank  faces. “It is 2020, here, right?”
“Um, yeah?” Hardison ventured carefully.
“How dark is this timeline of yours?” Jamie asked carefully. Sure, it was a tumblr joke, usually reserved for stuff like the however-many-renewed-season of Supernatural when great shows were cancelled or whatever creepy feature FriendCzar had tried to impose that month.
The woman paused, frowned, then took a deep breath. “In response to the global pandemic of a deadly respiratory virus, President Donald Trump suggested on television during a briefing that people should inject or ingest bleach to kill the virus.”  She took another big breath. “And that’s not mentioning the fact that he downplayed the seriousness of the virus while knowing how deadly and contagious it was, called it a hoax, made taking safety precautions a political thing instead of a public safety thing, and held massive super-spreader events.”
“Donald Trump?” Jamie asked. “The ‘you’re fired’ dude?”
“Oh my sweet summer child,” Inny responded, before taking another swig of her Mountain Dew. “Yeah, I mean, I thought the fact that Australia was on fire at the start of the year was going to be the only terrible thing I was going to tell you.” She laughed and shook her head ruefully, like that was some kind of funny joke.
“Australia was on fire?”
“Yeah. Parts of the US too, for a while. Orange skies. But since the country was basically on lockdown anyway, it wasn’t like it was very different to stay inside for that…” Jamie stared at the lady, then back at the adults. Parker didn’t look overly concerned, but then, she never really did. Eliot and Hardison were both frowning, though. There was no sign that this was some kind of elaborate prank Hardison was pulling on them with the help of one of Sophie’s acting friends. Besides, he was good, but not ‘fake opening a magic portal in the ceiling’ good. At least not within the five minutes Jamie had been in the other room.
After a litany of horrible things, which were apparently not even all of them, the woman stopped. “On the upside,” she said. “I perfected my banana bread recipe, Deeks met some alpacas, Leverage is getting a reboot, and I figured out why I probably keep dropping in here.”
“To remind us that things aren’t so bad like some messed up version of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?” Hardison guessed.
“Because Jamie is my OC,” she said, dropping a fucking bombshell like she just dropped out of the fucking ceiling. Jamie felt their brain fill with static, because no, they were a real person, and that either meant that this lady was full of bullshit, or, well, basically god. The Truman Show feeling returned ten times over. “This is my fanfic.”
Hardison recoiled a little. “No,” he whispered, fully understanding the implications of that. Hell, it was probably even weirder for him. Sure, knowing they were a TV show was probably cool, even more so with the reboot. But Fanfic Land didn’t fade to black and Jamie was pretty damn sure some kinky shit went on behind the soundproofed doors of their bedroom.
“Now, there’s two prevailing theories about this, as far as my internet rabbithole searches can tell,” Basically God Maybe continued. “Either I wrote this world into existence, because the multiverse is ever expanding and that is one of the ways it expands, or I just got some vibes from whatever crack between worlds keeps bringing me here and wrote down your shenanigans.”
At Parker and Eliot’s blank looks, Jamie clarified: “Basically, she’s either God or…”
“Some kind of shitty false prophet,” the lady on the beanbag chair beamed. “Probably the second one, honestly. My subconscious turns everything into a zombie apocalypse sooner or later, and you guys seem to be fine.”
Jamie whipped around to look at Hardison and Eliot, hopeful. “We’re fine, right?” they asked quickly. If anyone knew about a starting zombie apocalypse, it would be those two. Between Hardison poking around in basically every intelligence agency’s server ever and Eliot’s contacts, they’d know. God, Jamie hoped not. They were so not ready for a zombie apocalypse. Eliot hadn’t even taught them how to murder someone with an axe yet.
“We are definitely fine,” Hardison assured them.
“Yeah, I figured,” Not-God agreed. “If I had my say, Eliot would have stopped pining long before he did and kissed you guys.” Eliot grumbled and glared, probably because she was right. Parker patted him condescendingly on the head, which wasn’t helping matters.
The ceiling started crackling and glowing ominously. The lady put her can down as she slowly drifted off the beanbag, alien-abduction style. “Well, it’s been real. Be good, guys. Have some fun adventures. Ruin some rich douchebag’s day for me.”
“Will do,” Parker promised. “Say hi to your dog for me.” She got a thumbs up.
“Let us know how the reboot turns out,” Hardison said. Jamie figured it would probably fuck with the space-time continuum if she downloaded the show and brought it to them, but who knew. Maybe there was some kind of loophole for that, too. They were kind of curious to see what a Leverage show would look like. It probably had kickass fight-scenes.
“Stay safe,” Eliot said seriously. He’d been the most concerned about the talk of the pandemic, probably because you couldn’t punch it.
“Will do,” Inny shrugged. “I mean, 2021 can’t possibly be any worse, right?”
The portal crackled louder, which Jamie hoped wasn’t a sign. The lady was almost at the ceiling. She looked concerned, like she realised she just totally jinxed herself and the new year.
“Hey, just in case you are god,” Jamie called up. “Can you give me superpowers?”
The portal closed to the sound of laughter, and then there was silence. All that remained was a dent in the beanbag and an empty can of Mountain Dew.
“What the fuck,” they told the room at large.
“Yeah, you get used to it,” Parker said, before wandering off back to the blueprints she had been studying.
“I’m just gonna… check some things,” Hardison muttered, making a detour to the kitchen to grab a ginormous bottle of orange soda before getting behind his computer. “And buy a bunch of disinfectant and toilet paper, just in case.”
Eliot rolled his eyes, before bumping his shoulder against Jamie’s. “Come on,” he said.
“Come on where?” Jamie asked. “I’m having a bit of an existential crisis here.” If they were someone’s OC, did that mean that they didn’t have free will? Did it mean that all the cool things they had done the past year had only been because of some weird lady that fell out of the ceiling? Or did it mean-
“I’m gonna teach you to throw a knife so you can take out a zombie,” Eliot said.
Fuck that, the existential crisis could wait until 2am. They had more important things to do. Knife throwing would be fun and useful no matter if there was a zombie apocalypse or a pandemic, or they got superpowers.
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themusicplayedherlife · 5 years ago
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Some Sugar
Part 3:  you think you can open my heart?
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pairing: sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader characters: reader, steve rogers, cassandra jones (oc), selena (oc), others word count: 3k+ warnings: angst, family issues, money problems, cursing, talks of sex summary: family can be pretty wild a/n: sorry this took so long, but shit happened--from car accidents to quarantine to a lack of motivation, and it was just really hard to write anything. I tried, but it was all shitty. Couldn’t even bring myself to finish this chapter, but I managed it, until I realized that part of this chapter wouldn’t fit in to this anymore and needed to be pushed back -insert grimacing emoji- so really this chapter could’ve been posted weeks ago lmfao IM SORRY
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Quiet hums reach your ear as you stare at your phone’s screen, the large sum of money with too many zeroes staring back at you. It hasn’t even been a week yet and you’ve already received your first allowance—first. 
You throw yourself back onto your twin sized bed and the spring mattress squeaks horribly under your weight; you ignore it as your mind drifts to your conversation with Steve a couple of nights ago, your phone still in your hands and resting on your stomach.
“Even if you have a month left, it’s best to pay off the debt now.” As much as you wanted to pay attention to his blabbering, you were a little busy trying to keep your mind from how fast he was driving.
He had started off slow, or as slow as the speed limit allowed, really, until he got wrapped up in your story about your mom’s cancer returning, your sister’s self sacrificing nature (“She takes after you then,” he said with a grin), and your aunt and her subtle threats that were no longer so subtle.
Left hand gripped the seat tightly while your right hand clutched the handle on the roof. Your feet occasionally slammed down on the floor, braking whenever you felt Steve was going too fast for your liking. Wasn’t Captain America all about doing the right thing and following the law? Being safe? Honestly! He was lucky the streets were empty and there weren’t any cops in sight. You could have laughed at the imaginary headline: Captain America and His Sugar Baby Pulled Over For Driving too Fast. “Right,” is all you managed to say. 
“I can probably wire you the money tomorrow and then some,” he said, completely oblivious to your dilemma. You didn’t—and still don’t—know whether that was a good or bad thing. “We should probably figure out how allowance is going to work first, though—hey, are you okay?”
You ripped your gaze from the blur of the world outside, eyes a little wide to find Steve alternating between looking at you and the road. “Can you—can you maybe ease up on the gas a little?”
He blinked, eyes falling to his dashboard and soon the world started blurring less and your body was no longer trying to fight against gravity. You exhaled and let go of the leather seat that you’re sure you’ve scratched up, and he chuckled. “Bad habit,” he admits. “More used to my motorcycle than a car.” Right. Captain America rode a motorcycle.
You leaned back into the seat and your head rolled against the headrest to look at him. “That’d explain it.”
He chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I’ll be more careful.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” It’s sarcastic, and you almost feared he’d be mad but he only chuckled in response, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Huh.
“So, allowance?”
Allowance. Right. That’s a thing. Allow-ance. Why is that such a weird word to you now? “I trust you.” (Selena had advised you a base price of 2,000 per meeting, but you thought—like most of her suggestions—it was ridiculous. “Give yourself some credit,” she had said when you scolded her.) “Whatever you think is right, I’ll accept.”
For a moment he mirrored your frown, until he nodded resolutely and smiled. “I’ll handle it.”
And handle it he did. Not that you’re surprised that Avengers make bank because c’mon they’re heroes! You just didn’t think they’d make that much bank to spare this much money! Tony Stark? Sure. He owned a damn company—or was on the board, you don’t know anymore. But the rest? Not so much.
A familiar ring from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts and you don’t even bother checking who it is, you just accept the call. 
“Mornin’,” Steve’s voice greets you, a smile very much apparent in his voice and your heart does a flip. “I’m downstairs.”
You sit up hastily and in your hurry you almost fall off, eyes darting to the closed bathroom where Esmeralda is showering. “What?” Didn’t he say you were meeting at noon for lunch?
“My meeting got pushed back to this evening, and since you asked for the day off from the restaurant, I thought we’d make the most of the morning.”
“I’ll be down in a moment.” You pause when the doorbell rings. “Please tell me you’re not at my door right now.”
“No, but that might be Peter Parker.” How does he know—Shit. Right. He mentioned knowing the kid from his internship after you told him about your sister. “Just saw him enter the building with his friends.”
“Did he see you?” You really hope not.
“I don’t think so. If he had, the kid would’ve said something.”
You let out a relieved sigh and open the door just as you hear Ned say: “I swear that was Captain America downstairs!”
“What?” He said they didn’t see him!
“Morning,” Peter greets you as MJ rolls her eyes at Ned’s comment.
“I didn’t see anyone,” she says pointedly at him, before greeting you and smiling when you let them in.
You dumbly stare after them.
“It was him!” Ned insists, making a beeline towards the window facing the street and dragging Peter along with him.
MJ turns to you as she moves around the half wall separating the kitchen from the living room, not surprising. “Mind if I grab something to eat?” 
“Sure?” You still don’t know why she bothers asking.
“The windows are tinted, Ned,” Peter hisses. “I can’t see.”
“You got Greek yogurt? Oh. You do. Cool.”
Ned frowns and scratches his head, murmuring, “I swear it was him.”
You sigh, and drop your hand holding your phone without ending the call. “Can you tell Esme I got called into work?”
“Yeah,” Peter says, turning away from the window. “Sure!”
“And tell her to shoot me a text before you guys leave for school.” Peter nods, not really paying attention to you as he joins Michelle in the kitchen, already knowing the drill. “No dirty dishes in the sink.”
The last thing you see is MJ flashing you a thumbs up before you close the door behind you.
As you make your way towards the stairs, you lift your phone back to your ear. “Didn’t see you, huh?”
“I may have poked my head out of the window to say hi to the kid, until I heard them mention you and your sister.”
“Yeah. He usually picks her up, doesn’t like Esmeralda going to and from school alone,” you explain as you search around the street. With a sigh you immediately spot him. “Can’t you drive a least expensive car? You stick out like a sore thumb.”
He chuckles and you hear movement before seeing the driver door about to open. “I could always drive my motor—“
“No, no, no!” You rush towards him. “Do not get out of the car.”
“But—“
“Ned was looking out the window when I left,” you say, your eyes moving to the windows of your apartment, but thankfully don’t see him. “He still might be.”
He sighs, but obliges, the door closing.
“Thank you,” you tell him as you hang up the phone and open the door.
“They're bound to find out,” he says, raising an eyebrow in your direction as you buckle yourself in.
You know, and you tell him as much, “I don’t know how to exactly explain this—“you motion to him and you—“yet.”
He frowns, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he pulls away from the curb. “We’ll figure it out.”
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He takes you to a small restaurant in Brooklyn. Light blue walls and leather seats with white and golden lights—it’s retro, super retro, but cozy. Steve keeps his sunglasses on and the bill of his hat low. It’s ridiculous if he thinks this is really a disguise that works.
The curious host leads you to a table in the back, away from prying eyes—hopefully—after you ask for a booth. He settles into the leather facing the door and you opposite of him, large painting being the only thing you have sight of other than Steve, and yourself if you turn to your left and stare at the mirror covering a third of the wall.
She hands you both menus and leaves after you take a quick scan of the drink menu.
“How effective do you think the sunglasses and hat are?”
“It’s covert,” he defends, playful offense in his voice.
You lean on your crossed arms resting on the table. “You’re literally wearing sunglasses indoors, Steve. That’s weird. And bound to attract attention.”
“Tony does it all the time.” Is he whining?
You snort, staring into the dark lenses, imagining where his eyes are. “Yeah, because he’s the Tony Stark.” He scoffs and you shrug. “He can do things like that and get away with it. Not like he’s actively trying to hide himself either.”
“Okay, I get it. It’s a little ridiculous.”
You grin, amused at the small pout forming on his pink lips. Who knew Captain America was a sulker. It’s cute.
Your assigned waitress comes by and takes your order after placing down your drinks that the hostess marked down for you both. You choose something light—a pesto caprese sandwich—compared to the hearty breakfast Steve orders for himself—a loaded omelet, heavy on the cheese. You smile up at the waitress, but you find that her eyes, although listening to you, are trained on Steve. He seems to notice, too, because he smiles politely before gesturing to you with a small incline of his head.
“How about we share a side of tater tots, sweetheart?”
You blink lazily at the nickname just as the waitress drops her gaze to you as if finally remembering that your voice belongs to an actual body. There’s a tingle that curves down your spine and you know he’s staring at you behind his dark glasses. His shoe nudges yours and his lips curl into a lopsided smirk. 
You recline your cheek against your perched arm and tilt your head further into your palm with a smile. “Anything you want, baby,” you coo and Steve lifts a playful brow in question, your smile only growing wider when he nudges your shoe again.
The waitress squirms and mutters something before scurrying away.
“Baby?”
Sweetheart? you want to shoot back, but instead you remain neutral, reaching for your drink with your free hand. “Better than calling you daddy.”
He straightens, visible skin turning red and you stifle a laugh as he shuffles in his seat. “I—“ You don’t break eye contact, if his eyes are following yours, as you wrap your lips around the paper straw and suck the sweet orange juice to coat your tongue. “You can call me anything you want, sweetheart.”
Interesting. “Even Stevie?”
“Anything,” he reiterates, leaning back into the seat to rest his arm over the backrest and you smile. “As long as I get the same privilege.” 
“It’s a deal, sugarplum.”
He snorts a laugh and you just shrug, trying to hide your smile with pursed lips. 
“Tell me more about your family.”
The question cools you down, smile effectively shrinking into tight lips. 
“Like?” you ask, suddenly finding the painting hanging behind his head much more interesting. It’s a simple painting of the beach, golden, warm colors contrasting with the beautiful cool shades of blue and white used for the ocean. 
“You told me about your mom and sister, even Peter and his aunt, but you didn’t mention your dad—unless,” his voice turns soft, posture relaxing as if to put you at ease, “unless you don’t want to talk about him. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t be—“
“It’s okay,” you interject softly, lifting your head from your palm. “I just don’t know where to start.” He nods and removes his glasses with one hand as he reaches for one of your hands. “Um, my dad… he died in a car accident when I was 13.” You watch his fingers as they intertwine with yours, just like they did at the bar. Steve doesn’t seem like it, but he craves physical affection. Always seemingly touching you by holding your hand. Not that you mind it, it definitely comforted you, but you can’t help but wonder: why. “He was a good man. Smart. Loved us all very much. Loved technology,” you emphasized followed by a small laugh. 
He’d spend hours tinkering with home appliances to try and upgrade them. You loved those moments the most, when you’d sit by him and he’d ask for a tool and you’d hand it to him. He’d tell you what he was doing, explain every step and process and what that change would do. He nurtured your mind, treated it as his equal.
He squeezes gently and you let his warmth cover you. “I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten over it.” He doesn’t mention the twitch of your fingers or the way your voice falters, he instead lets you change the subject. “I also have a brother that is 3 years older.”
Unlike your sister, you, and your dad, JC has always been more artistic, preferring to follow in your mother’s footsteps in learning how to play instruments and singing. He never understood your fascination with tinkering and creating, shunning your father’s activities when he tried to get all of you to help upgrade the television or stereo or whatever project he brought home from the lab.
He frowns at that, a little confused. You don’t blame him. You didn’t exactly mention him when you talked about Esme and your mom. “Did he move away?”
“Yep,” you pop the p, absentmindedly twirling the straw in your drink. “Moved out as soon as he turned 18. Would see him twice a year at best, but we used to hear from him often. Then after I turned 18 we never heard from him again.” And he made sure you wouldn’t be able to find him, too. Changed his number, deleted all of his social media, cut ties with his friends, and vanished. Not that you were surprised, he hated the struggle you and your family went through after dad died. You had always known he’d leave at some point. 
But you stupidly held onto the hope he wouldn’t leave when you needed him most.
“Oh.” He frowns, trying to think of what to say, maybe even offer to help look for him. But what would that do? That’d just bring him back to the life he wanted to get away from. 
You flex your fingers in his hold, just to readjust your grip on him and hum lowly. “It is what it is.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Sometimes,” you admit, but it somehow feels wrong when you think about the last time you spent with your brother. The hurt he caused when you woke up and he was no longer there in the morning, only a single cupcake with a candle waiting for you on the kitchen counter. “Other times I—I don’t.” His thumb caresses the edge of your palm, barely grazing your wrist and you can’t help but let the negative feelings fade with his gentle touch. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asks, soft with blue eyes staring into you. He knows you’re changing the subject, but he lets you. You don’t want to talk about JC anymore or even think about him, and it’s for the best.
“What’s your family like?” He looks at you as if you've grown another head and you flush slightly. “I meant your friends, Steve. You’re all like family, right?”
“Oh!” His eyebrows shoot up and he tenses for a moment before relaxing, smile worming its way onto his lip. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we are. They’re great. A little out there, but they’re good people.”
He tells you all about them; from Tony and Bucky and how the were able to set aside their differences when the world needed it most and how they bonded over their love of science; Natasha and Wanda and their bond as sisters, including the fact that they could most likely rule the world if they tried; Vision and Clint and their strange friendship that was born from trying different food; Sam and Sharon and their newfound relationship that everyone likes teasing; to Thor and Bruce and their bromance born from fighting in a planet a la gladiator style—all of them, telling you things you wouldn’t hear from television or read from articles with interviews. And from the way his eyes light up and his voice lightens, there's no doubt in your mind that he loves his family just as much as you love yours.
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Your aunt stares at you with barely disguised distaste before unpleasant eyes move to Steve, who stands close to you still wearing his hat and sunglasses. No matter how many times you told him to stay in the car, he wouldn’t listen. “If she’s willing to send someone to threaten you, who knows what she’s capable of,” he had said, grabbing onto your hand before letting you go to get out of the car.
The check is flat on her desk, but she doesn’t move to pick it up. “How did you get this?”
“Does it matter?”
She tutts, eyes boiling with restrained anger. “I don’t want stolen money.”
That’s rich coming from her. “It’s not.”
“I suggest you take it ma’am,” Steve speaks up, breaking his silence. “And consider the debt paid.”
She tilts her head, eyes taking over Steve properly, like a huntress on the prowl. “And who exactly are you?”
“That’s none of your business,” you answer for him, moving to stand in front of him and effectively cutting her gawking. “Just sign what you need to sign and we’ll be on our way.” And we won’t have to see each other again.
She stares unblinkingly at you before wearing a strained smile. She pulls out a file from behind her and flips it open to the correct page, signing it and stamping it along with the last page before ripping it out—a receipt—and handing it to you. 
You take it from her hands and scan your eyes over it—PAID. A giddiness bubbles in your stomach, but you hide it from her. “I would say it was a pleasure Magdalena, but it never is.” You turn on your heels and Steve is right behind you. “One more thing,” you pause at the door, Steve close enough to press his chest against your back. “Stay away from my family,” you warn before strutting out the door, smile curving your lips when you meet the disgruntled gaze of the man that had threatened you at your work.
He gives you a nod of acknowledgement as he makes his way into your aunt’s office.
“Say hi to Johnny for me,” she suddenly calls out just as he closes the door behind you, but it’s enough to throw you off guard. For your throat to close up and for you to stop in your tracks and for your hand to reach out for the hem of Steve’s jacket, barely caching the smirk she sends your way.
“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice floats to your ears, warm and soft. “What’s the matter? Who’s Johnny?”
“My brother,” you say through a breath. He couldn't have come—wouldn’t have come back. There’s no way. JC made it perfectly clear he never would. You shake your head. “She must’ve been lying. Trying to get a rise out of me.”
“It worked,” he points out obviously and you sigh as he gently pries your hand from his jacket.
You don’t want to admit it, but… “It did.”
“Come on.” He slips his fingers between yours and tugs you out of the desolate building and back out into the streets of Queens. “Let’s get out of here.”
There’s a bubbling in the pit of your stomach, heart hammering as you glance over your shoulder back at your aunt, the small relief you had felt at getting her off your back tainted by the thought of JC being back, not even Steve’s warmth can ease your worry.
But there’s no way—he wouldn't. There’s nothing left in Queens for him anymore, and there never will be.
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