#and spring right back up when he gets out for interviews | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlightkun · 4 months ago

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❧ word count: 12.2k ❧ warnings: cursing, they go kinda skinny dipping at one point (wearing underwear) ❧ genre: fluff, a little suggestive, modern magical creatures/fantasy au, college au if you squint, summer camp au, dryad jaemin, human reader, camp counselors jaemin & reader, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: ah it feels so good to be returning to the strawberry sunday universe after so long! everyone blame thank lottie for not letting me forget abt dryad jaemin. i wasn’t sure abt posting a summer camp fic in february but it seems like the people wanted it, so i hope it warms y’all up (unless it’s actually summer for you rn, then i’m right on time 😎)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

You learned three things about Na Jaemin on your first day:

One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.

Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.

And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.

WEEK ONE

It was way too fucking hot out. From the rough directions you were given by the camp director, you were pretty sure this path led out to the river. Fuck it, you might wade out a little while you were here in order to not overheat and die. No fucking way you were going to haunt this place forever in the event you became ghost.

Despite your pessimistic thoughts as you trudged along the forest trail, you were actually very excited. Today was the first day of your month-long stint as a counselor at Camp Pineleaf. You were an education major at the university in the city, and had been recommended to the gig by one of your professors. One interview with the camp director later, and you’d been hired on the spot. You were part of the set-up crew, responsible for getting to camp early to get the camp set up and welcome the kids when they arrived. The other half of the staff were riding over from the drop-off point with the campers. So here you were, walking the perimeter to make sure all of the off-season markers had been taken down.

The camp was a small part of a nature preserve, and the rangers designated the different areas to visitors by colored markers on trails and trees. When the camp was closed in the off-season, the river that it bordered was open to visitors, so the flag markers on that border would be blue. But now that the camp was open, the blue ones should’ve all been replaced with bright orange flags. You just had to keep an eye out for any remaining blue flags, or for anything else that could be awry.

You knew you were getting closer to the river when you could hear running water, and the air around you started feeling less heavy and a lot fresher. The trail under your feet turned sandy as you finally emerged from the trees onto a shoreline by the river.

You immediately froze, though, not expecting to see somebody else at the riverside. It was a man pulling himself up out of the river onto a rocky formation. He was shirtless, his biceps, shoulders, and all other sorts of muscles flexing along with his motions. His eyes were closed as he shook his wet hair out, then pushed the damp locks back from his face with both of his hands. The sunlight made him look like he was glowing, every drop of water that ran down his body sparkling like a jewel, and you couldn’t make yourself look away.

He looked like he’d been sculpted by the gods. Which you supposed he had, or one in particular at least, you realized, as his eyes opened and settled on you as if he’d known you were there the whole time. They were the color of ferns, but shifted to a lighter mossy green under the dappling of the sunlight. Dryad. Son of Pan. Or so the legends go.

“Hi?” Despite his voice pitching up to make the greeting sound like a question, the wide, cocky smile on his face told you that he definitely knew that you’d been stood there ogling him for an embarrassing amount of time.

“Sorry!” You cringed at the sound of your own voice. “I didn’t realize there was anybody out here.”

The dryad started picking his way down the rocks towards you carefully, grabbing something off one of them as he went. A neon yellow shirt. When he finally dropped onto the ground a few feet in front of you, he gave the shirt a twist to wring out a few drops of water.

“I’m Jaemin,” he said, gripping the shirt even tighter and giving it another twist for good measure. You pretended like you didn’t notice the veins in his hands or the way his forearms tautened with the motion. He shook out the shirt to show you the logo on the front of it, a smiling evergreen tree that matched yours. “I’m also a counselor at Camp Pineleaf this year. We must’ve gone to different training sessions, huh? Anyway, I was walking the perimeter before the kids got here and I kind of—”

Jaemin stopped, a sheepish sort of look coming to his face as he ducked his head almost in embarrassment.

You looked around in confusion. “You what?”

“I fell in the river.”

“You fell in?” You stared at him. You couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or not. What kind of dryad—

“I know, what kind of dryad is falling in rivers?” He pulled the shirt on over his head, which you could now see he had cut the sleeves off of. “Aren’t we supposed to be connected to nature and all that? I still don’t know how it happened, one second I was just climbing the rocks and surveying the river, next thing I knew, I was in the river. Then you showed up.”

Clumsy dryad. That was a new one.

“I’m Y/N.” Introducing yourself was only fair since he’d already given you his name. “Seems like we’re head counselors of the Swallowtails this year, Jaemin.”

It was then that he seemed to notice the matching colors of your shirts, and his features lit up in recognition. “Hey, looks like it!”

You checked your watch. “We should be getting back, the kids are going to be arriving soon.”

“Right!”

“Besides, if I have to stay out here any longer, I’m going to pass out from heat exhaustion.” You groaned, pulling the front of your shirt off from where it had stuck to your skin, using it to fan yourself. “And there’s no way I’m dying out here and risking getting my ghost stuck in the middle of nowhere for forever instead of somewhere cool.”

Jaemin suddenly had a look of alarm on his face, and you looked around with an eyebrow raised.

“What? Something I said?”

“No, sorry, thought I heard something,” he shook his head. “It was just a vole. Lead the way.”

You hadn’t heard anything other than the usual forest sounds, but chalked it up to superior magic hearing, and started back on the trail to the main camp.

“So, why did you come out here, Y/N?”

“Same as you, walking the perimeter.”

“And… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but what are you?”

You looked at him curiously. “Can’t you tell? I’m a human.”

He blinked as if shaken from a trance. Then he offered you another heart-stopping smile. “Right, of course. Sorry about that. Must’ve hit my head when I fell in the river.”

“Must’ve…”

You learned three things about Na Jaemin on that first day:

One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.

Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.

And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.

That third one you didn’t come to understand until the after-bed bonfire that all the lead counselors were holding on the shore of the river. With all of the campers tucked in and being watched over by your high schooler junior counselors, the grown-ups were doing their own first day celebrations and icebreakers, which included one or two bottles being passed around as you got to know each other. A lot of the staff had been there for previous summers like Jaemin, but there were a few newbies like you.

It had been someone’s bright idea—Yeeun, a fairy, one of the lead counselors of the Bluejays—to do Truth or Dare to loosen everybody up, instead of like, just some more campfire songs or something. The guitar was forgotten by Jaemin’s feet in favor of this game, and you had survived your first couple rounds just on Truth—it wasn’t really your prerogative to embarrass yourself in front of your new coworkers on your first day.

It had just been Chanyeol’s turn (the Assistant Director, mind you, was even participating), and the werewolf let out a long, low burp as he held the bottle out for somebody to take. His truth had to been to admit why some counselor from last year had gotten fired—it apparently was the hottest piece of camp gossip last summer that nobody could figure out until now (it turns out the guy was drinking on the job, which you didn’t miss the irony in right now).

Jaemin took the bottle from him happily, tipping back his head to take a sip.

“You only have to drink if you don’t do your turn, Jaemin. Remember?” You nudged him with your left knee. He was not going to be a very helpful co-counselor tomorrow if he was hungover and miserable.

“I know,” he grinned.

“Alright, Jaemin, Tr—”

“Dare!” He declared, cutting off Chanyeol as the werewolf went to ask him the routine question.

Your coworkers all rubbed their chins thoughtfully. Yeri suddenly let out a dramatic gasp, as if she’d just been struck by the best idea ever.

“I dare you to pass the bottle to the prettiest girl in the circle,” she declared smugly.

“That’s it?” Jaemin arched a brow.

“She’s so wasted,” Sooyoung scoffed under her breath, but nonetheless, the siren brushed some stray hair and rose petals out of the dryad's face as she teetered in place.

“What? You want something more racy?” Chanyeol snickered. “Unfortunately, I am still kind of your boss, and while I will sanction this, I draw the line at daring anybody to do anything sexually promiscuous, alright?”

“I don’t mean like that, necessarily,” the dryad shrugged. “But it’s a bit tame, doesn’t tell you much. Why not the person that I want to kiss the most? Or, that I want to—”

“Jaemin.”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed dramatically, holding up the bottle straight out with one arm and drawing back his other to aim it around the circle like a bow and arrow.

“You better not hand me that nasty fucking thing, Na Jaemin,” Yeeun practically growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“In your wildest dreams,” he scoffed, jutting his arm to the right at last. You turned your head that way, trying to figure out who he was handing it to. You were at the end of this log bench, and the next person in that direction was Eunseok, a gryphon and newbie like you.

“Y/N,” Jaemin pushed the bottle against your knee.

You took it and whispered, “Right, and who am I handing this to?”

“Nobody, gorgeous,” he whispered back, shooting you a wink.

Your hands were suddenly sweaty where they were wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and you could feel everybody’s eyes on you. With your gaze fixated on your lap, you coughed out a, “Oh, okay.”

“Alright, Y/N!” Chanyeol announced dramatically over the titters that had erupted around the fire. “Truth or dare?”

You took a swig of the drink to steel your nerves, trying not to think about how Jaemin’s mouth had just been on the same bottle—and everybody else’s, but that didn’t really matter to you as much in the moment. “Truth.”

Jaemin leaned in towards you, and you were suddenly wrapped in the contrasting smells of pine and roses as he dropped his voice, his mouth hovering right by your ear. “Are you—”

The sound of footsteps running up towards the campfire distracted you from whatever Jaemin was about to ask, and you whipped around to see Ningning, your junior counselor, heading right for you.

“Y/N!” She skidded to a stop on the other side of your log, clearly out of breath from the run down from the cabins to the riverbank.

“Ningning, is everything alright?” You asked the breathless witch.

“They’re crying and asking for their parents. I tried to—I can’t calm them down. I’m sorry, can you please—”

“Yeah, of course.” You put the bottle down in the sand, standing up and gesturing for the girl to lead the way back.

“You look exhausted,” Jaemin declared, setting a cup of coffee down in front of you at the dining hall the next morning.

“I am,” you sighed, rubbing the back of the little witch girl who had finally cried herself to sleep an hour before wake-up this morning. She was still passed out on your lap, and you wished you could be that dead to the world too. “Finally got this one asleep about an hour before wake-up.”

“Oof, an all-nighter,” he nodded sympathetically. “Wanted Mommy and Daddy?”

“First time outside her coven.” You took a sip of the coffee, delighted to find that he had somehow already made it to your exact preferences. “Two creams and three sugars…? How did you know?”

The dryad shrugged, “Something sweet for someone sweet, right?”

“How do you know I’m sweet?” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “I could be the biggest ass— jerk you’ve ever met.” You winced at yourself nearly forgetting the child in your lap.

“Something tells me you’re not the biggest assjerk I’ve ever met,” he snickered quietly. “You’re up against stiff competition in that department, anyway.”

“What sort of people have you met, Jaemin?”

“Curious about me, beautiful?”

“I think I’m allowed some natural curiosity about my co-lead counselor, yes.”

“Ouch, I’ve been co-lead counselor-zoned.”

“What other sort of zone were you hoping to be in?” You snorted, taking another long sip of your coffee, not expecting an actual answer to that.

“I think you have a pretty good idea, gorgeous,” he grinned. “Anyway, I’ll fix you a plate for breakfast so you don’t have to disturb your little friend.”

“Wait,” you stopped him as he went to walk away, craning your neck to try to see the buffet line. “What do they have?”

“I think I know what to get you,” he declared confidently.

Jaemin did in fact come back with all of your favorite breakfast foods loaded up on a plate, which only made you even more suspicious as you dug in. All your other campers and junior counselors were sitting at the table with you two, though, so you couldn’t interrogate him about it.

This morning, the Swallowtails were going on a nature walk, and you were more than happy to let Jaemin and his junior counselor, another dryad named Sohee, take the lead on that.

It was cool enough in the morning shade that you didn’t feel the need to throw yourself in the river this time. Ningning stayed in the middle of the group with some of the girls, and you brought up the rear, holding hands with your new best friend, Soongie. The little girl that you had consoled all night had not left your side since, nor said a word, which was honestly fine by you.

Jaemin had stopped everybody to explain something about the importance of all of nature working together, and how even all of you in this group were part of nature too—a fine message, by all means—but a little chittering in the treetops above you caught your attention, and you looked up to see some kind of light reddish-brown critter running across tree branches. Another ran after it, and you were pretty sure those weren’t squirrels, but you swear you hadn’t ever seen anything like it.

“In addition to those birds we had seen earlier, you’ll also see a lot of animals like squirrels and frogs up in the trees too.” Jaemin had apparently gone back to lecturing about the wildlife again while you were distracted. “There’s actually something special about this park, does anybody know what it is?”

Sohee raised his hand, which made you and the kids giggle as Jaemin looked at him disapprovingly.

“Not you, Sohee.” Your co-counselor shook his head. “Anybody else?”

Everybody looked around at each other, shaking their heads and giving various ‘no’s in response.

“There is actually a species of chipmunk that can only be found in this park. It likes the area around the river the most, and you’ll know you’ve seen it because it has reddish fur, and white front paws.”

You tilted your head back up at the trees, squinting your eyes as the creatures ran back out again, then paused overhead. And you swore you saw white paws.

“I think Y/N has already spotted some!” Jaemin announced, startling you.

As the kids all started crowding around you and clambering to try to get a good look at the animals, while you were looking dead at the older dryad, wondering how he knew exactly what you were looking at. He easily met your gaze, tilting his head and smiling.

After lunch, your team was in the arts and crafts cabin. There were multiple stations of different crafts set up, and you were helping Soongie with the friendship bracelets and necklaces. You hummed to yourself as you carefully selected your beads, arranging and rearranging them on table in front of you.

Soongie tugged on your sleeve, and you looked at her attentively. She held her nearly finished bracelet up, tapping the two ends together indicatively.

“Do you need it tied together?” You questioned.

She nodded.

You gingerly took the bracelet from her, tying it up and handing it back. “There you go, Soongie.”

The little witch grabbed your arm, and you let her pull the bracelet onto your wrist with only minor difficulties. She patted your hand, seeming satisfied with herself.

“Oh, is it for me?” You asked, wanting to clarify in case she only wanted you to model it or test the size for an adult back home.

She nodded again, turning back to start picking out more beads.

“Thank you,” you beamed, patting her head appreciatively.

“Miss Y/N, can you help me tie this please?” Another camper requested from further down the table.

“Of course.” You set your materials down, standing up to walk around to where he was sitting. “Here, I’ll do it with you so you can practice.”

Guiding his hands through tying the knot on his elastic string, the two of you finally got it. You gave it one last tug to make sure it was secure, then he put his bracelet on.

“Thank you!” He chirped, jumping up from his seat. “I’m gonna show Mister Jaemin!”

He darted off across the cabin to the craft table that your co-counselor was at, and you took the opportunity to walk around your table and check on the campers while you were already up. Continuing to hum quietly to yourself, you whipped around with alarm when you heard Jaemin start singing. Not just because he was singing, his voice was perfectly pleasant, a lovely tenor, actually. But because he was singing the same song that you had been humming, joining in exactly where you were. You were not loud enough for anybody at even the next table over to have heard you, much less him on the other side of the noisy cabin. Dryads didn’t have exceptionally acute hearing like some other creatures such as vampires, they were only attuned to the sounds of nature, e.g., the vole he had apparently heard by the river yesterday.

Jaemin was showing the camper you had just assisted the accompanying dance to the song. It was a song that you had learned when you were a kid at your own summer camp, which was why it had come to your mind now. A few other campers abandoned their crafts to join Jaemin in learning the dance, immensely focused.

The dryad’s eyes shifted from monitoring their footwork to you. He stopped singing to call out to you, “Do you know this one, Y/N?”

You swallowed to wet your parched throat before answering. “Y-Yeah, I learned it at camp when I was a kid.”

“Remember the dance?” He asked with a grin.

“I mean, I don’t know, it’s been so long…” As you hesitated, a chorus of insistent cries erupted around you from the campers, begging you to join in. “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can remember.”

You walked over to the open space that Jaemin and the kids had gathered in, followed by cheers.

“From the top?” Jaemin suggested, a twinkle in his green eyes.

The next day, Jaemin sidled up to you in the buffet line at dinner. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, helping Soongie on your other side, who couldn’t quite reach some of the food options.

“I’d skip the gravy surprise if I were you.”

“I was about to tell you that,” you quipped back, depositing a heaping serving of smiley fries onto Soongie’s tray, then yours. “It looks alive and artificial at the same time somehow.”

“A modern miracle, truly.”

The both of you snickered as the line moved up. Jaemin loaded up his own helping of fries. Soongie pointed enthusiastically at the honeydew melon, and you scooped that out for her too.

“I wanted to ask…” Jaemin leaned in to murmur by your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t flinch away though, intrigued by whatever he felt the need to whisper to you in the loud mess hall. He continued in his low voice, “Will you meet me tonight? Thirty minutes after lights out?”

You inhaled, which was a mistake as you sucked down the smell of pine and roses, and the line scooted up while you were still frozen. Quickly, you nodded and choked out a quiet ‘okay’ before catching up with Soongie. Jaemin smoothly followed after you, engaging one of the counselors across the buffet from you in light-hearted conversation.

After lights-out, you laid awake, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, listening to the hushed whispers of the girls fade into soft breathing and the occasional snore. You checked the time on your watch every two minutes, and it was only when you had five minutes left until your promised time to meet Jaemin that you realized he hadn’t told you where to meet him, and you’d been far too flustered to ask. You didn’t want to cluelessly wander the campground after dark, not only for fear of being caught by administration, but also because you didn’t know what was out at night. You were here because you were an education major, not because you were exactly a hardcore nature enthusiast.

Finally, with just a minute to go, you peeled your covers off as silently as possible, slipping your hiking boots back on. Lord knows what Jaemin had in mind. Your bed was by the entrance anyway as a safety precaution, so it was easy to get to the front door and slip out. You took your phone and the cabin pass with you from next to the door, just in case. Your phone, so that people could still get in contact with you, and the cabin pass so if Ningning woke up in the middle night and saw you were gone, she would think you were using the bathroom or something.

Outside your cabin, you didn’t immediately see Jaemin. You decided that if you didn’t find him in five minutes, you’d head back. Whatever this was, was not worth losing your job, or your girls’ safety, or yours, for that matter. You’d hardly turned away from the girls’ cabins towards the center of camp when you saw him strolling down the walkways from the direction of the boys’ cabins. Speak of the dryad.

Halting your search, you waited for him to approach you instead. He was wearing what looked to be his pajamas as well, sweatpants and a tank top, and his slides smacked against his heels with every step.

Jaemin stopped in front of you, not bothering to hide that he was eyeing you from head to toe. He had that same easy-going smile as always as he assessed, “Hiking boots and pjs. Cute.”

You suddenly felt too exposed in your sleep shorts. “Oh, shut it.”

“I meant it. You’re cute.” He was leaning down to peer at your shirt closely now. “It’s dark, I can’t see—Who’s on your shirt?”

“My eyes are up here, you know,” you jested, crossing your arms.

“Ooh, a bit hypocritical, hm?”

“I was startled—”

“Yeah, when I’m startled, I also make a cartoon ‘awooga’ sound—”

“Oh shut—!” You smacked his arm, not intending for the sound to echo so loudly in the quiet area. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you rushed to cover your mouth with two hands, hushing your gasp.

Jaemin, meanwhile, was grabbing the area you’d hit while he keeled over, his whole body shaking with silent laughter.

When administration hadn’t come swooping in after a few beats, you shook your head at the still-laughing figure of Na Jaemin. Pivoting around on your heel, you had the full intention of heading back to your cabin. Just a step away, and his hand shot out to grab yours. It was a light grip, you could shake him off and leave if you wanted, but you stopped anyway.

Still with your back turned, you waited for him to catch his breath and say something.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still with a hint of a smirk in his voice. “Can I still show you something?”

Unfortunately, your interest was piqued. You turned around, narrowing your eyes at him—he was smirking. “Show me what?”

Whatever Jaemin wanted to show you, it was deep in the forest, on a trail that was closed off from camp. Now you were glad that you’d worn your hiking boots, despite his earlier teases. The trail clearly hadn’t been used in a few years, overgrown with plants so it only fit one person across. You kept your eyes on your feet, you didn’t want to risk tripping and injuring yourself and having to make up some story about how you sprained your ankle using the bathroom in the middle of the night. Embarrassing.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked plainly.

Jaemin looked at you over his shoulder, teasing glint in his eye. “I’m a dryad, not a siren, Y/N.”

“We’re also not by water, so I didn’t think you were going to drown me,” you snorted.

“We’re almost there,” he said simply. “I think.”

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do, I’m a dryad—”

“Thank you for reminding me, I almost forgot in the last twenty seconds.”

“—therefore, I have an intuitive connection to nature, okay? So I know it’s going to be right through these trees.”

You gave him a doubtful look, but stayed silent. He gestured ahead, and you watched as leaves and branches seemingly parted on their own, welcoming you through. You followed Jaemin under the passage that he’d made, the foliage closing up again behind you. You’d entered into a clearing illuminated by nothing but the stars. It was a new moon, but you found that you didn’t really need its light, as the stars shone brilliantly on a night this clear. The clearing was carpeted with soft clover and patches of wildflowers of all shapes and sizes.

“This used to be the archery range, when I was a camper,” Jaemin explained. “They moved it as the camp got bigger.”

“You came here when you were a kid?”

“Yep.” He picked a spot and sat down. “Chanyeol used to be junior counselor of my cabin.”

You smiled faintly as you sat in front of him. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He started picking clovers from the bottom of the stem, close to the ground. “You ever made a clover crown?”

“No.”

“I’ll show you how.”

As he walked you through the steps of weaving together a clover crown, you tried your best to follow along, but yours still ended up a weedy mess, falling apart in your hands. You sighed, letting the greenery drop through your fingers and back to the dirt.

“Here, use mine,” Jaemin offered patiently. “Sometimes starting is the hardest part.”

“No, Jaemin, it’s so pretty, I don’t want to mess it up,” you insisted.

“I’ve probably made thousands of clover crowns,” he reassured you, moving around to lower his hands over yours. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

You let out a deep breath, taking the partially-woven clovers from him. Jaemin stayed there just to guide you through the first few uncertain crossings of stems, then he sat down again next to you, gathering more materials to start another crown.

Keeping your eyes trained on your shaky fingers, you said, “I don’t get you, Na Jaemin.”

“Well you hardly know me,” he pointed out humorously. “But I feel like I’ve been straightforward with you. Is there anything specific you think is so mysterious about me?”

“That’s the problem.” You bit your cheek and paused as you focused on the clover crown for a second. Then, you continued, “You’re so upfront I feel like you’re hiding something. Like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What? Because I’m being honest, that must mean I’m dishonest?”

“Yes, because people don’t just act like this, Jaemin!”

“Like what? Like they’re actually interested in somebody they want to know better?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide. “This can’t just be a human thing—Are you like, okay, Y/N?”

You felt tears welling up at the corner of your eyes, and once again dropped the clover crown to wipe at them. “Fuck—I guess not. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m sorry too. We’re barely more than strangers, I let myself get caught up and I was pushy. I’ll take you back.”

The dryad stood up and offered you two hands to get up. Hanging from one of his elbows, you saw a completed clover crown. Curious, you pointed to it. “Can I see…?”

Jaemin obliged, shaking it from his elbow to his hand and offering it out to you. Still sitting in the same spot, you turned the crown around, admiring his delicate handiwork. It was more intricate than the version he had been showing you how to make, wildflowers woven together to make hearts or stars and then integrated into the design, and he’d finished it so quickly too.

You held the crown out for him to take back. “I still haven’t made a clover crown… If you want to stay.”

He brightened up. “Third time’s the charm.”

When your alarm woke you up in the morning, you were at least more well-rested than the first night, but not by much. Groaning and sitting up, you rubbed your eyes before opening them, eyes blearily trained on the floor. The first thing you saw was your hiking boots, your completed clover crown resting atop them. It ended up taking four tries for you to finally finish one, and it was messy and at risk of falling apart any second, but you were proud of it nevertheless. A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you remembered when you had finally closed it off per Jaemin’s instructions, and smacked his arm with excitement, too afraid of even breathing. Instead of being offended at you hitting him again, he was as elated as you, somehow finding a million things to compliment about your ugly little clover crown.

WEEK 2

After your cabin’s wake-up routine this morning, you were back in the cafeteria. You didn’t bother looking for Jaemin, feeling pretty confident that the dryad would find you on his own. Sure enough, just a few minutes after you and Soongie had sat down, your co-counselor was standing at the end of your table, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.

“May I?” He asked.

“All yours,” you replied, cutting up Soongie’s pancake for her.

“We’re doing canoeing with the Bluejays this morning,” Jaemin reviewed your itinerary for the day.

A small hand grabbed your arm, and you looked over to see your little witch practically vibrating in her seat.

“Soongie’s excited,” you chuckled. “And then it’s free swim until lunch.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, finger following the schedule on his clipboard. “Then it’s us and the Barn Owls for free time until two-thirty. Then we’re going to archery also with the Barn Owls and the Tree Frogs, and tie dye before dinner. Oh, and a campfire after dinner tonight.”

“Will—”

“There will be s’mores at the campfire,” he said knowingly.

You smiled. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“You know, Soongie, you could help a little bit, sweet,” you chastised the girl fondly, being the only one actually paddling between the two of you.

The camper was sat ahead of you in your canoe, her paddle long forgotten on the floor as she looked around her in delighted wonder. You were far too endeared by her to really be upset, which she obviously knew, as she did nothing to assist. There was a small splish on the surface of the water to the left of the canoe, and Soongie gasped, immediately scooting to that side of her seat.

“Woah!” You grabbed the sides as the small canoe rocked with the shift in weight. “Careful, Soongie. I know you’re not very big, but remember what Miss Yujin said, we don’t want to—”

As you were talking, the little witch had been leaning further and further over the side of the canoe to try to get a better look at whatever had caught her attention before. Right as you had grabbed the back of her life jacket with the intention of scooting her back into the middle of her seat yourself, the canoe flipped entirely, sending the both of you into the water. You two popped up immediately thanks to your life jackets, underneath the shell of the overturned canoe.

Turning the girl around in your arms, you checked on her, “Are you okay, Soongie?”

She regarded you with wide, terrified eyes as she nodded hurriedly.

“Good, good. I’m not mad, sweet,” you reassured her, hugging her close. “It’s okay, now we know not to do that next time, right?”

She nodded again, slower this time.

Pulling away, you asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hit by the canoe or anything?”

Another nod, more certain.

“Good, alright.” You let out a deep breath, looking around at the canoe over your heads. “Now, I need you to—”

A loud knocking on the outside of the canoe cut you off, and you let out a scream in surprise. The next second, a third person had joined you two under the canoe, surfacing behind you.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, wiping water out of his eyes.

“Other than the heart attack you just gave me and the canoe on top of us?” You scoffed. “Yeah, peachy, Jaemin.”

“You weren’t coming up, I was getting worried,” he frowned.

“We’re okay,” you said more sincerely this time. “Promise.”

“Okay, good.” He then pointed to his right. “You and Soongie go out and swim over there. I’ll flip the canoe back over the other way for you. Swim a good distance away, just in case.”

“Alright, thanks, Jaemin,” you smiled, patting his cheek fondly. Turning back to Soongie, you said, “I need you to close your eyes and hold your breath while we go underwater so we can get out. Can you do that for me, sweet?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathed in deep, and plugged her nose.

“I knew you could. Let’s go.” You grabbed her by the head, pushing her under at the same time you went down too. You kept your hand on top of her head both to keep her down against the buoyancy of her life vest and to act as a bumper in case she accidentally bonked the canoe on her way out.

Once you had surfaced, you pulled her with you as you paddled away from the canoe a fair distance. Scattered in the water around you were the oars and your shoes. You knew your sunglasses were long gone, lost to the bottom of the lake. A few seconds later, you saw one of Jaemin’s hands wrap around the edge of the canoe, then he slowly lifted the side facing you, breaking the seal with the water, before he heaved the canoe to his left, successfully flipping it rightside up. You heard distant cheers and applause from the dock, and looked over to see other campers standing there, bundled up in their own little life vests.

Swimming back over to Jaemin and the canoe with Soongie, you two also gave him a small round of applause above the surface of the water.

“Our hero,” you jested.

He grinned, holding onto the end of the canoe to keep it from floating away. “Well…”

“Y/N in first, that way you can help Soongie get in,” he explained.

“Okay, you wait here with Mister Jaemin for me,” you requested, passing her off to the dryad.

“Can you hold onto my shoulders Soongie?” He moved her around to his back, then made an exaggerated choking sound. “My shoulders, not my neck!”

Soongie giggled and changed the placement of her arms.

“Oh, thank Pan,” he breathed out in relief. “Alright, Y/N, up you go.”

You hauled yourself back into the canoe, then worked with Jaemin to hoist Soongie in as well. Finally, Jaemin pulled himself in too, shaking out his wet hair like a dog.

“Ah!” He sighed, pushing his hair back from his face, annoyingly handsome grin once again landing on you. “Well that was a successful rescue mission, huh?”

“Hate to burst your bubble, Jaemin, but uh, we don’t—”

“Have oars?” He finished your sentence, still grinning.

“Mhm.” You looked down into your empty, soaking wet canoe, then at the distant dock pointedly.

“Not a problem!” A vine shot out of Jaemin’s palm, splitting into two, each end grabbing a wayward oar and pulling them back up into the boat. He offered one out to you to take, and secured the other in his hand.

Soongie giggled and clapped, to which Jaemin bowed. “Ah, thank you, thank you.”

After free swim and free time, everyone had time to head back to their cabins and shower before going to archery. You only had a second to rinse the lake water off of you before changing and corralling your campers to archery.

The new archery range was bigger than the old one that Jaemin had taken you to, able to fit more targets than you were sure the other one could. As the two instructors began teaching the kids, the counselors hung back to make sure everyone was paying attention and served more as support during the lesson. God knew you had no clue how to shoot a bow and arrow.

“You know how to do this?” You murmured to Jaemin as you watched the instructor notch her first arrow.

“May have won a few ribbons back in my days as a camper,” he jokingly bragged. “Want a private lesson?”

You elbowed him lightly and shook your head, even as your heart skipped a beat. The instructor let her arrow fly then, easily hitting the bullseye. You clapped along with the campers, snickering, “I think maybe I should ask her instead.”

Whoever put tie-dye after free time was the bane of your existence, as there was no time for the girls to properly wash up before dinner. If tie-dye had been before free time, then they could’ve done it before showering. You and Ningning had your hands full helping them scrub dye off their hands, and your entire cabin ended up being late to dinner. Stomping into the mess hall with a gaggle of starving girls, you hurried them ahead of you towards the food line, wincing when you saw a few options empty or nearly empty already. Soongie hung back with you as always, joining you last in the line.

You made your two plates, and struggled to find empty seats in the packed mess hall. Thankfully, a hand shot up among the throng, waving you all over. Jaemin stood up so you could see him better, and you called for your girls, who were all looking around rather lost, to follow you over there. The dryad was instructing his campers to scoot around and make room, and finally, with some squeezing, everyone was able to fit. Jaemin let you scoot onto the bench seat ahead of him, and you still had to eat with Soongie on your lap and one of Jaemin’s legs sticking out into the aisle. His other leg was pressed against you, elbow bumping into yours as the two of you ate.

You tried not to glare at some of the other cabins who had made no attempts to accommodate you all, empty seats and plenty of room at their tables, some of the adults even propping up and spreading their legs out on the benches as they ate and chatted with each other.

“Just leave it, Y/N,” Jaemin murmured, nudging you with his arm. “Good example.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Jaem.”

“Hard time washing out the tie dye?”

“Yeah. How’d you guys clean the dye off so fast?”

“Who says we cleaned the dye off?”

That made you look up from your food for the first time, carefully studying the hands and arms of the boy Swallowtail campers around you, seeing that they were in fact, splotched with every color of the rainbow. You burst into laughter, covering your face with your hand. “God—Is that going to come out before pick-up?”

“Yeah, a couple more dips in the lake, it’ll all be gone.”

“Work smarter, not harder, huh?”

Jaemin grinned. “Exactly.”

At the campfire, you helped your younger campers roast their marshmallows for their s’mores safely, while Jaemin and Chanyeol led the entire camp in sing-alongs. In a lull with your campers preoccupied with eating their s’mores, you quickly prepared one and brought it up towards the front. Chanyeol was tuning his guitar while he and Jaemin discussed which song to do next, and you tapped the dryad’s shoulder as you lowered the paper plate into his line of sight.

Jaemin looked up at you beaming, accepting the s’more. “Thanks, beautiful. How’d you know I wanted one?”

“I’m a mind reader,” you replied humorously, mussing up his hair before you headed back towards the Swallowtails’ benches.

“Ask her! Ask her!” Came excited, hushed whispers from behind you as you had just returned to your seat among all your campers.

Turning around, you spotted a gaggle of both girls and boys gathered behind you, and raised your eyebrow at them inquisitively. “Ask me what?”

“Miss Y/N?” One brave girl finally piped up. “Are you and Mister Jaemin boyfriend-girlfriend?”

You covered your mouth to not laugh directly at them, instead tilting your head at them curiously. “Why do you think that?”

“You just made him a s’more!” One said.

“And he rescued you and Soongie today!” Another added.

“And he always calls you beautiful and stuff!” Said another. “That’s what my dad calls my mom.”

“You can tell your friends that they’re beautiful,” you informed them dutifully. “I tell you girls that you’re beautiful, don’t I?”

They all looked at each other, obviously conflicted.

“You should always help somebody in need if you can, like Mister Jaemin did today when Soongie and I were canoeing,” you continued. “And how many s’mores have I made for all of you?”

They began murmuring among themselves at your very good points while you tried very hard to control your face. Technically, you and Jaemin weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. You were… something. And these children didn’t need to know all the (sparse) details of the nature of your relationship with Jaemin anyway.

Chanyeol had started strumming his guitar again, drawing everyone’s attention as the next song began.

WEEK 3

All outdoor activities had been canceled today because a huge storm had rolled in overnight. Rain pounded against the roof of the meeting center as lighting flashed and thunder boomed outside. The Swallowtails and Tree Frogs were in here for the first block of the day watching movies on a projector. The movie was occupying some of the kids while others quietly played cards in a corner, others napped, and the counselors hung out in the back of the room.

“You okay, Jaem?” You asked the dryad, bumping his shoulder with yours. “You’ve been… off since breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured you, shifting his gaze from the dark grey skies outside over to you. His eyes were a deep forest green, so murky they almost blended in with his pupils. He tried to offer you a half-smile as he nudged your arm back. “It’s the weather. Dryads are sensitive to it. Mother Nature gets bummed out, so do we.”

You looked over at Sohee, noticing that the younger dryad was also less upbeat than usual, leaning against the wall and zoning out as he listened to the junior counselor from the Tree Frogs go on about something.

“I like the rain,” you tried to offer some positivity. “Good napping weather.”

Jaemin chuckled. “I’ve never been able to sleep well when the weather’s like this, but now that you mention it…”

“Big fuzzy blanket or two, the sound of the rain, oh it’s perfect.”

“Mm, I might be able to get on board with this.”

“I’m just afraid the kids aren’t going to be able to sleep tonight if they can’t get their energy out,” you sighed, already able to picture them bouncing off the walls come lights-out.

“Yeah, we’ll have to make them run laps in the gym after lunch so they’re not bouncing off the walls when it’s lights-out.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Speaking of lights-out…” He leaned in closer, resting his hand behind you and letting the smell of pine and roses entirely wrap around you. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he requested, “If the rain lets up by then, will you meet me again? After lights-out?”

You turned your head to whisper back, “To do what?”

“It’s a surprise. Is that a yes?”

You hummed, pretending to think it over. Finally, you answered, “Yes.”

In the middle of dinner, the rain finally stopped, and you pretended not to react, even as the entire cafeteria erupted into cheers. Jaemin tapped your foot under the table with his. You kicked his back as you lifted your smiley fry to your mouth.

After putting your girls to bed, you once again waited thirty minutes before putting your hiking boots on and slipping out of your cabin. Jaemin was exactly where you had found him last time, blinding grin visible even this late at night. He had a couple towels tossed over his shoulder, but was otherwise in the exact same clothes as last time.

“So where are we headed?” You asked, looping your arm with his.

“Somewhere special,” he replied vaguely. “The rain should’ve made it perfect.”

You squinted at him, but didn’t press for more information. As soon as he turned off the main path, you realized he was heading towards the river but taking an unfamiliar route along it. He was heading towards a part that the camp didn’t use in their regular activities. You heard the rushing water before you spotted it, and when you emerged from the treeline, you could see a waterfall. Not huge, but without the extra rainfall from today, this area probably wouldn’t have been more than a trickle.

“Perfect,” Jaemin declared, stopping by a rock further from the water’s edge. This one was dry, safe from the spray of the waterfall. He set the towels down before toeing his shoes off, and you already knew what he was going to do.

“Isn’t it going to be cold?” You asked knowingly, despite taking your boots off too.

“Probably.” He pulled his tank top off before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re behind.”

“You’re pushy,” you teased back, yanking off your socks.

“Undress how you want, my apologies.” He put his palms together and bowed ninety degrees, making you giggle at the juxtaposition of the formal gesture while he was in nothing except his briefs.

Your shorts joined the pile too, but you left your sleep shirt on since you had nothing else on under it. Jaemin was already at the river’s edge, his back to you as he stood in the water up to his ankles.

“Is it cold?” You slowly picked your way closer to the water.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” He answered with a question.

“Try.”

“It’s like a hot tub.”

You clicked your tongue, “Nope, didn’t believe you for a second.”

“Can I look?” He still hadn’t turned around, even as you were just a couple steps behind him.

“No, Jaem, I want you to swim with your eyes closed all night.”

“I’d do it if you asked,” he jested back in a slightly sing-songy voice.

“I know you would.” You hugged your arms as you shook your head fondly. “You can turn around. With your eyes open.”

Jaemin turned around with his eyes squeezed shut first, then squinted them open one at a time, a soft grin spreading across his lips as his gaze didn’t trail anywhere other than your face. He offered his hand out, and you set yours atop it. Slowly, he pulled you towards him, and you braced yourself as you took the first step into the cold water. You let out an instinctive shiver at the chill zipping up through you.

“Hot tub, yeah,” you scoffed.

“It slopes down from here.” Jaemin started wading out in front of you, keeping his loose grip on your hand. You followed him, keeping an eye on how fast the water was rising up his legs to estimate the depth for yourself.

When the water was about waist-deep, you hissed at the temperature, squeezing his hand tighter. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand as he started guiding you towards the waterfall. “Come on.”

In the back of your mind, you wondered if you were going to get sick from this.

“If you catch a cold, I’ll nurse you back to health.”

“If you get sick, I’ll laugh,” you mimicked the way he cooed at you sweetly.

Jaemin stopped the two of you a little ways away from the bottom of the waterfall. He let go of your hand before walking forward, pausing right under where the water was pouring down, thoroughly drenching him. He let out a whoop presumably at the burst of cold. Poking his head out, he wiped the water from his eyes and looked at you expectantly. You sighed but went to join him, grabbing your shoulders tightly and gritting your teeth against the rush of cold water soaking the rest of you. A mix between a yelp and a laugh escaped you instinctively, and you heard Jaemin laughing past the sounds of crashing water. Admittedly, the chill served as a shock to your nervous system, thoroughly waking you up and making every inch of your skin tingle.

You ducked out of the waterfall, under the overhang of rock, wiping water off your face as you giggled. “Ah! Cold! Fucking cold!”

“It’s refreshing, right?” Jaemin asked with a grin.

“Kinda, yeah,” you admitted, putting your shoulders back under the waterfall. You held your arms out. “C’mere.”

He obliged, shuffling closer to you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you felt how warm his skin was, you pulled him even closer.

“You’re warm!” You gasped.

“I’m a dryad, gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering the two of you in the water. His hands landed on your knees, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and cling onto him even more. “Always the perfect temperature.”

“You’re really proud to be a dryad, hm?” You questioned, not a hint of sarcasm or taunting in your voice this time.

“Of course. I love everything about it, never wanted to be anything else. Sure, other things are more powerful, and plenty of dryads hate being sensitive to the weather, but I love it all.”

“Can you understand animals?” You knew that not all dryads could talk to animals, and those who could, would usually only be able to talk to a certain kind (birds, fish, reptiles, etc.).

“Small to medium land mammals. Anything bigger than a dog is usually a no-go.”

“What about a really big dog? Like a Great Dane? Or a Newfoundland?”

“Haven’t tried. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Do you have a favorite animal? Or is that like picking a favorite kid?”

He chuckled, and you could feel it against you. “I like cats.”

“Me too.”

After a beat, he asked, “Can I tell you something?”

“Can I stop you?”

“The first day of camp—”

“—when you fell in the river—”

“—when I fell in the river… I didn’t really fall in.”

You pulled back to be able to look him in the eye, nose scrunching up in confusion. “What? So you just… went swimming in your clothes for fun?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I was walking the perimeter, like I told you, and then suddenly I got this really strong urge to just jump in,” he explained. “One second, I was perfectly fine, enjoying the Sun, and then I thought to myself: ‘It’s too goddamn hot and if I overheat and die there is no way I’m going to let myself end up haunting this place for eternity.’ And the river was right there so I jumped in and cooled off. And then when you showed up, I figured it was better to look clumsy than like… well whatever that was.”

Dread had settled deep in the pit of your stomach, and your jaw dropped with mortification. “Jaemin, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m the one who made you jump in the river,” you confessed, pushing on his chest to get him to let you go and stand on your own again.

“What?” He tilted his head, obviously confused and caught between trying to decide if you were joking or serious, half a smile on his lips.

You turned away from him, covering your face in horror as everything suddenly dawned on you at once—way too late, you should’ve fucking known, it was so fucking obvious. “Not on purpose. God—”

Jaemin was surprisingly calm as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“You know how we’re like… scarily in sync sometimes? Like it’s almost like you can read my thoughts?”

He grinned and chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “So you noticed, too? I mean—”

“It’s not great chemistry or anything. I’m literally accidentally putting my thoughts in your head,” you interrupted him, desperately trying to get across how seriously bad this whole thing was.

The cocky smirk dropped right off his face, and he turned curious and skeptical instead. “Wait, really? How?”

“My great-aunt called it something one time. A savvy,” you snapped your fingers as the word popped into your head. “Said that’s what they used to be called before all this modern-day science took over magic instead.”

“Savvy,” he repeated uncertainly.

“Yeah. Humans that could talk to plants and make them grow faster like dryads, or fly but just a couple inches off the ground, things like that,” you listed off a couple examples. “Her theory was that with integration, people didn’t find their savvies anymore because they were around all this extraordinary magic, there was no reason for their little pockets of it to ever make an appearance.”

“What’s your theory?”

“Kind of similar. I think the people with them might notice it, but we see all this incredible stuff every day, so if your plants are growing extra fast—hey, that was probably just the magical fertilizer you bought at the store, why would it be the fact that you were singing to your succulent? Magic is so ingrained into the fabric of our lives from outside sources, I don’t think we’d ever stop to notice if it ever started coming from inside us.”

“That’s so…”

“Sad? That humans would never stop to think that we had magic in us too?” You chuckled cynically.

Jaemin shook his head, brow furrowed as he obviously both deep in thought and deeply perturbed. “I was going to say, hard to imagine. I can’t imagine what it feels like not having magic in you.”

“You’re made of magic. I’m not.”

“Well that’s not true. You’ve got something. You’ve got a… savvy.” Jaemin smiled and pointed smugly. “It’s what confused me the first time we met.”

“Right.”

“So how did you find out?”

“According to my parents, I didn’t talk until I was almost four. I didn’t need to, they just somehow always knew what I wanted. Used to chalk it up to good body language. But the way that people always finished my thoughts before I did, and didn’t even realize they were doing it. I hated that. It felt like they were in my head.” You clutched your arms self-soothingly at the memories. “Until I got a little older and realized that actually, I was in their heads.”

“Do you know why? Why you?”

“We’re all human, my family, as far back as we can tell. Unless someone had an affair somewhere that we don’t know about but—” You shrugged. “I’m just a human, who can think and feel really hard, and things happen. And because someone said so, that’s magic. But if I lived with a bunch of humans—and not my great-aunt—I probably would’ve gone my whole life just believing that I was really good at conveying my thoughts. Or really shit at hiding them.”

“So you can… what, exactly?”

You knew what he was asking—magic powers all had names. So what was yours?

“I don’t know, project my thoughts? Still don’t have a good name for it,” you admitted with a dejected shrug. “I don’t do it on purpose, it just kind of happens. I can never choose which ones, or who gets them, I’ve just kind of figured that that it tends to happen with ones I’m more focused on. But not always.”

“So it wasn’t great chemistry, huh?” He joked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah, sorry, Jaemin,” you said sheepishly, then tacked on, “But I can tell you, I’ve never had someone so… receptive to my thoughts before. Like, no one person has ever gotten so many in such a short amount of time. I don’t know why, or what it means, or if it even means anything. And I do feel the need to apologize, I imagine it’s clearly been… invasive.”

“For one, don’t apologize. You said you’re not doing it on purpose, and I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, always worrying about which of your thoughts someone is going to get, who’s going to get it, and if they’ll know it was you. Don’t also worry about apologizing to me just because I listen a little better than other people. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for eavesdropping.”

“You don’t need to—”

“Now you know how you sounded,” he replied pointedly.

“Damn.”

“Anyway, I think I know exactly why I’m more… receptive.”

You eyed him curiously. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m a dryad,” he reminded you for probably the hundredth time since you met him. “We’re in touch with nature, which includes humans, and their thoughts and feelings.”

“So it’s not our great chemistry?” You trepidly quipped.

“So you agree!” He lit up. “We do have great chemistry! Aside from the magical thought-sharing?”

“I think it’s including that?” You fidgeted with your fingernails. “Because despite everything I just told you, you’re not running away. Even though I literally made you jump in a river the first time we met. Or, before we ever met.”

“I think I’m starting to get better at telling what’s your idea and what’s mine,” he said confidently. “And you’re also not running away, despite the fact that you know that your thoughts are even more available to me than other people.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I trust you with them. You’re the first person that I’ve told who’s… really thought of it like that. That you’re listening in, instead of me forcing something into your brain.”

“Thank you. I’m honored.”

“So uhm, while we’re talking about the first day of camp… What were you going to ask me? At Truth or Dare?”

“Still thinking about that, gorgeous?”

“Apparently. Do you remember?”

“‘Are you thinking about kissing me, too?’” He stepped closer to you again. “Though, I think I know the answer now.”

You nodded, eyes glued to where a droplet of water raced from his hair down his forehead, over his browbone, his nose, and finally between his cupid’s bow into his parted lips.

“I know I can literally hear you thinking about what my lips feel like, and exactly where you want my hands on you…” One of said hands had caught the hem of your shirt floating in the water, gently tugging it back and forth. Jaemin leaned in closer, warm breath washing over your cheek as he held eye contact with his request, “But can I also hear you say it out loud? Just once, gorgeous?”

You immediately folded, grabbing his forearms as you pleaded, “Jaem, please. I want you to kiss me, I want you to—”

“I know, beautiful, I know,” he hushed you gently, cupping your cheek and sealing his mouth over yours. His other hand let go of your shirt hem to wrap around your waist and pull you closer. Your fingernails dug into the muscles of his forearm as you pressed against him, chasing more contact in any way possible. He alternated soft bites to your bottom lip and deep kisses that left you dizzy. The cold water didn’t even register anymore as you fell more and more into Na Jaemin.

Jaemin finally drew back, leaving you with a peck on the tip of your nose. He was still looking at you with an absolutely blindingly soft smile, cradling your face with two hands. You grabbed his cheeks, kissing his nose too.

“It’s only fair,” he snickered.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” you replied humorously, pushing your forehead against his.

The sky was a beautiful crystal clear blue the next morning, and you noticed the change in Jaemin’s mood before you even got to the mess hall for breakfast. Your cabins converged on the walkway there, and you spotted Jaemin at the front of his boys, giving one a piggy-back ride as four more chased them around the rest. Sohee was actually leading the gaggle of campers, laughing and joking along with the older dryad. Without you even calling out to him, Jaemin gently dropped his camper back to the ground before turning around and giving your group a big wave.

“Morning, girls!” He grinned.

“Morning, Mister Jaemin!” They said back in a loud chorus.

You just so happened to glance down to make sure you weren’t going to step on one of the kids’ heels when you noticed that Soongie’s sneaker was untied.

“Oh, hold on, sweet. Your shoelace.” You tugged on her hand to take her to the side, out of the crowd. Kneeling down, you dutifully double-knotted it. “There. Let’s go.”

You’d just started walking and brushing the dirt off your knee when your foot got jerked back by your own shoelace which had come untied and was subsequently caught under someone’s foot. Before your face or hands could impact with the concrete, however, something sturdy wrapped around your waist and caught you. You realized it was a thick, leafy vine at the same time that two hands grabbed your arms to stand you back up, and the vine unwound from around you.

“Woah, you alright?” It was Jaemin, of course, already checking your hands and arms over for injuries.

“Yeah, Jaem, I’m fine,” you smiled as he fidgeted with your beaded bracelet from Soongie. “Tied Soongie’s shoe and completely missed the fact that mine was untied too. Thanks for the save.”

He dutifully dropped to one knee to tie your shoe for you, and you wanted to be embarrassed at being treated like a child, but really, all you could think about was pulling him back up when he was done and kissing him.

“Not here, beautiful,” he grinned and winked at you.

You rolled your eyes and pushed his head away from you, but you knew it was all negated by your fond smile and thoughts.

WEEK 4

The Swallowtails were back in the arts and crafts cabin, and you were hard at work at the friendship bracelet station. You may have sucked at making clover crowns, but you weren’t half-bad at this, at least. Searching through the piles of beads, you secured a few more green and brown ones, as well as some in the shape of white daisies to add.

Jaemin was at the bead table too, and you pretended not to be interested in what he was making, even as he had not-very-quietly whispered to one of your girls sitting next to him asking if she knew what your favorite color was. The camper had told him with a giggle, some of the other campers pitching in with their opinions on whatever he was making throughout it. You acted like you hadn’t heard anything, looking up from your own craft only to survey the cabin or when someone called your name asking for help.

You’d just secured the clasp on the necklace you had been working on when a throat was cleared across from you. Looking up, you raised your eyebrows at Jaemin curiously. “Yes…?”

His project had disappeared from in front of him, but one of his hands was behind his back, so you had a suspicion as to where it went. The dryad held his other hand out palm-up on the table between you two. “May I?”

You put out your arm that already had your friendship bracelet from Soongie on it, and he grasped it gently. “Close your eyes?” He requested.

Amused, you did so, feeling when he slipped another bracelet on your wrist. You peeked one eye open, immediately spotting the bracelet that was comprised mostly of beads of your favorite color. You grinned, spinning it around to admire it.

“It’s perfect. Thanks, Jaem,” you said. Picking up the necklace, you declared, “Your turn.”

Standing up, you walked around to stand behind him, fastening the clasp at the back of his neck for him. “There you go.”

It was a shorter necklace, resting right at his collarbones, so he had to use his phone camera to look at it. His fingertips ran over the beads, then he reached back to squeeze your hand that was resting lightly on his shoulder.

“I love it.” He tilted his head back to absolutely beam at you.

At dinner, you weren’t even surprised when Jaemin joined you and Soongie in the line to get your food. You fondly noted that he was still wearing the necklace from earlier.

Leaning in towards him, you breathed in the familiar smells of roses and pine, then murmured, “Will you meet me? After lights-out tonight?”

“I had this weird feeling that you were going to ask me that,” he teased. “Yes.”

“So where are we headed?” Jaemin asked as soon as you found each other that night.

You didn’t hesitate to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I want to try to make clover crowns again.”

He started tugging you down the walkways. “Let’s do it.”

Taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was all around you, you let out an unintentional sigh after. “I can’t believe we’re going back tomorrow.”

“It always amazes me how fast a month goes here.”

“We’re going to—I’m going to see you again, right? When we get back?”

Jaemin screeched to a stop in the middle of the trail, turning to you with a startlingly severe look on his face. “What kind of question—Of course. We live in the same city, go to the same school. I meant everything I said, Y/N.”

“I-I know, Jaem.” You glanced up at the stars peeking through the treetops. “I guess this whole month sort of felt surreal… I’m worried about what real life will be like for us.”

“It’ll be better,” he said confidently. “Because I can take you on real dates there.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I don’t know, the waterfall was pretty romantic.”

“I’m glad you think so, beautiful.” He started down the trail again. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

The camp was in a fairly remote location, so everyone loaded up onto buses in the morning to drive back into the city, where the children would then be picked up by their parents. Since you had volunteered for the set-up crew, you weren’t staying for break-down, which meant you were going back with the kids and monitoring pick-up for your campers.

Most of the kids (and counselors) were napping on the bus, thoroughly tuckered out from the month of camp, and having to get up early to eat breakfast before the buses departed. Soongie was curled up on the bench seat with her head in your lap as she slept, and you yawned just looking at her.

“Tired, gorgeous?” Jaemin murmured from his aisle seat next to you. The three of you probably didn’t need to squeeze into one row, but there was no part of you that wanted to tell him to move.

“Mm, a bit,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Sleep.” He shifted to wrap his arm around you, encouraging you to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

After waking up, pick-up went surprisingly smooth. Most of the campers’ parents were already at the pick-up location, so it was just a matter of checking IDs and sending the families on their way. Soongie excitedly tugged you over to a trio of adults, one of whom looked far too old to be her parent, and another looked far too young—your age at most. They introduced themselves as her covenmates, and one of the witches was in fact her biological father, the one who looked between the other two in age. You chatted with them for a little bit as they confessed to being nervous since this was Soongie’s first time away from the coven. You filled them in on how well she did at camp, downplaying the horrors of the first night to put their minds at ease. Soongie gave you one last big hug before all four of them left with huge smiles on their faces.

Ningning was driving herself and some of the other junior counselors home, and you sent them off with a wave, the witch honking her horn in return. When things around the lot were finally quiet, you saw that all the campers were gone, and the lead counselors were even beginning to disperse as well. Jaemin was already walking up to you, his duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Heading out?” You asked, trying to hide your disappointment.

“In a minute. Now that pick-up’s done…” He grabbed one of your wrists with one hand and tugged your friendship bracelet from Soongie off with the other.

“Hey, that’s—”

“Your bad luck charm.”

You looked between him and the gift in confusion. “What?”

“Soongie didn’t do it on purpose. Witches that little have no control over their powers. I didn’t say something before because I know you wouldn’t have gotten rid of it while you were still around her, and all it’s been doing is minorly inconveniencing you.” He turned the bracelet around in his fingers to look at the plastic beads. “If it was seriously hurting you, I would’ve intervened.”

“Wait, so when I tripped on my shoelace…?”

“And when the canoe flipped, and all the spots at the mess hall being taken, and probably anything else that went wrong this whole month.” He tossed it up in the air and caught it before pocketing it. “Unless you’re usually that unlucky?”

“No, I just figured it was because this was my first year. Learning the ropes and stuff,” you shrugged, still bewildered as suddenly everything was clicking.

“Unintentional sabotage.”

“Well, good thing I had you then, huh?” You joked, nudging him with your elbow. “My guardian dryad.”

He pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “It was tough work, keeping an extra close eye on you.”

“Aw, and here I thought you were hanging around me so much because of our great chemistry?”

“That too.” Jaemin looped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, peppering kisses on your cheek as you giggled and futilely tried to hide your face from him. “Mostly that.”

⤷ anthology masterlist | blog masterlist

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001 @snowyseungs @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

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roseglazedlens · 2 years ago

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Nanami baby fever 👁👁?

The user is female and has a kid already, but he likes, Why not other kids? What could be so wrong with that since user kidcis such a sweetheart?

⦑ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⦒ ✧.*

NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER synopsis: you've been busy, so Nanami organises you a day off to help you relieve some pent up stress. content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, reader is a mom, daddy kink, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, fingerbashing, cervix penetration, mating press, overstimulation, nipple play, praise, pet name (princess). a/n: thank you for requesting dear anon!! i love writing aggressive + soft nanami sm, hope you'll enjoy this! « 1.8 k words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

You’re trying to take a relaxing afternoon nap. Nanami Kento doesn’t. His hand is running down your body as you lay, exploring and squeezing you in ways that are less than chaste in your eyes.

“Kento, w-what are you doing?” He moves closer, his front flushing against your back, and you feel the hardness of his chest muscles untense in your warmth.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.” Nanami draws out a whisper into your ear that resembles a low grunt. Something is nudging you on your thighs, and he uses this opportunity to round his arms around your body, reaching your breasts. They pert at his touch, and you let out a soft sound of relaxation. The firm pads of his fingers press against the plush, before coming together to roll them lazily against your nipple.

“Wh-Where’s all this coming from?” You whisper back even though there’s no one else in the house but you two. Nothing to hide. No reason to hold yourself back. But yet you do, especially when it comes to Nanami, he strips every remains of composure off your body. His other hand comes down to your belly, smoothing over with a gentle pressing grip until his fingertips crawl right above your underwear.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long. Since all the volunteering, the parent teacher interviews. I’m done waiting. Take these off.” Nanami hooks at your panties, pull on them and let it snap back against you.

“Oh, is that why you took my daughter to daycare? Is that what this is?”

“And? I have ulterior motives, so what.” Nanami knows what he wants, and he sure isn’t embarrassed by it. And right now, he wants nothing more than to feel himself inside of you. His fingers pick on your underwear once more, signalling you to lift your hips so he can pull them down to your ankles. “I can’t fucking wait anymore.” Nanami smirks, running two fingers up the length of your cunt that earns you a shiver. “Neither can you, it seems.”

You help him take off his glasses so you can see him clearer. When you do, his lustful eyes are still fixated on your body. Admiring the beauty you are in his life, speaking millions of promises to make you happy in the bedroom and beyond the bedroom with his gaze alone. That sincerity somehow makes your clit jump, but Nanami isn’t done preparing you yet.

He runs a few lazy circles along your clit, then getting impatient, places a finger inside of you, exploring the depths of you that clenches hard in attempts to fill the gap. He revels in the fact he’s making your back arch and heart race without even trying. Imagine how you will react when he does try.

Nanami’s cock is getting impatient too, his dick cramped inside his boxers begging to see your lewd face too. With the other hand that’s not occupying you, Nanami takes off the button of his pants, unzipping it to let his dick spring free onto his blue dress shirt. His other hand is not slacking either, fingerbashing into you relentlessly to let the slick of your desire permeate the air. Your cunt is drenching his finger, sucking him in, like you are desperately trying to make Nanami’s finger come.

“Fuckin’ hell, princess… Save some for me…” He cusses, removing his fingers inside you, and you let out of groan of refusal.

Your hole wants him, wants him to fill the void inside of you. Nanami rolls over on top of you, lifting both of your legs up to put over the shoulders of his shirt, now crumpled from all the action. He takes in the sight first, letting out a whistle of delight with a devillish glint in his eyes—one that he reserves only for you to see—before he lines up against you.

You feel his tip inside of you first, pussy already grasping at whatever he can give you. Your attempts at lifting and dropping your hips in desperation for more friction leaves you unsatisfied. That is when Nanami smiles, knows, and stops the teasing to indulge in your desires.

He ruts in you, difficult at first, but your body accomodates to his size soon enough.

“God… Just because I haven’t fucked your brains out in two weeks, you’re getting tighter… So you like it when daddy’s dick is too big for you?” Somehow when Nanami refers to himself as daddy, it makes your body react, pulling back your legs closer to your body for him to fuck you deeper. And he obeys, your walls wrapping tightly around him as he fucks you closer to your cervix.

“Fuck, nnh, that's it princess. Takin' me so well. You really want daddy to force himself into your tiny fucking hole and plant his seed inside of you?” Nanami's arms presses your legs down even further now, your knees almost touching shoulders, and you are pleasantly surprised to find how flexible you can be with some dick as your motivation.

“I'm going to make you into a real daddy, Kento.” Between his deep thrusts, the words slip from the back of your throat. Perhaps it's from the adrenaline of the moment. Perhaps that's how you genuinely felt. You don't know yet.

“Ohh, princess, don't make promises you can't keep.” Nanami is grinning and isn't against the idea. “But if you ever get knocked up, I'll love you, cherish you, make you the happiest mama ever.”

“Fuck...” You groan, a buzzing sensation shakes violently in your belly. Hands weakening, breath erratic, you're so close to the edge and you have to keep going.

“Hmm, does that mean you want me to cum inside?”

You ignore him, not giving Nanami the satisfaction of you saying yes, instead focusing on your belly at the knot of pleasure.

“Come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now. You don't want me to stop now, do you?” Nanami slows his thrusts, too slow for your orgasm to reach anywhere.

“Don't stop. Please.” You meet Nanami's eyes, still playful. Still waiting for your answer. “Fine... I want you to cum inside.”

“Such an honest girl. Such a good girl for me.” And this is when he takes your breath away, plunging deep into you with newfound speed and eagerness. His dick is bumping into your cervix now, over and over and over again, until all that escapes your lips are filthy cries of your orgasm and gasping breaths of his name.

But Nanami isn't stopping yet. He's almost there, so close. Your overstimulated fluids that coat around his dick is the world's best lubricant to fuck you in till you can't walk. Then, his orgasm washes over him too, thick white ropes of his come spilling uncontrollably inside you with intention to make you his forever.

Nanami sighs, now heaving frantic breaths through the air as you both lie back onto your bed. You roll around, helping Nanami out of his sweat stained shirt that's probably a little too uncomfortable after their activity.

“Did you mean everything you said just now?”

“That I love you and want a kid with you? Of course.”

“It's a lot of work you know. Having kids. You sure you're ready for that?”

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” He brings himself forward to land a chaste kiss on your lips. His hand comes down to your belly to give it a gentle rub. “You already have experience with kids. How hard could this be?”

“Oh, you'd be very surprised.”

“Then I better start learning now.”

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @kennedyswhore @emilzke @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk season 2 #jujutsu nanami #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk nanami #nanami #꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱

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for-your-modesty-dude · 9 days ago

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Reentry Pt. 2

Part 1

A/N: So, funny story... I wasn't planning on posting another part today already, but I started to write and this just fell out. It just kinda... wrote itself. It's a short one and has not been beta'ed, so please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors. I sat down and banged it out in like an hour and a half. I'm really excited to explore this little coffee shop au, and I think it's a world I'm gonna exist in for awhile, if you all don't mind. I have other WIPs to work on, too, but I think this guy is gonna stay a steady constant for a bit. Bc I'm in love with this version of Eddie rn. As always, if you've got suggestions or requests, send them my way - I don't have a solid plot for this yet except a few scenes I knew need to be included. Anyway, thank you all for reading and making me feel seen. I love y'all sm. - Hy <3

p.s. please tell me if you want to be added to my taglist!

Summary: Eddie is having lots of doubts and struggling with day-to-day activities. You can't blame him - 5 years of incarceration will really throw a wrench in who you thought you were, but maybe a friend can help.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and doing time.

Word Count: ~1.7k

You knew that Eddie had been avoiding having that homecoming dinner, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. The day of his interview at the bar, Steve and Dustin popped into the bookstore as they often did. You were just reorganizing some shelves when you heard their bickering as they entered - those two never stopped, no matter how old they got.

“I’m telling you, man. Eddie is not feeling a dinner party right now. And he’s got that big interview later, I can’t just spring a surprise party on him like that. Plus, we don’t know if everyone is even available. Let it go, we’ll do something lowkey next weekend or something.”

“Steve,” Dustin started, with that tone of faux patience like he was talking to a toddler, “if he gets the job, he won’t be available for a dinner party next weekend, you’re aware of this, right?”

You just listened to the argument that Eddie clearly didn’t want to have a party right now. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, Steve was a good friend. Dustin was, too, just in a different way. They both wanted the best for their friend - but it was uncharted territory for all of them. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of your name, and you turned with something of a surprised expression and a “hi!”

“Are you available for a dinner party tonight?” Dustin asked, straight to the point, and Steve had to add his side, too.

“Do you think it’s appropriate for us to have a surprise party for a guy who is clearly struggling with rejoining society when he doesn’t seem to want to be around crowds?”

“Woah, there, gentlemen,” you held your hands up in surrender. “Yes,” you pointed at Dustin, “but I’m with Steve,” you pointed to Steve next, and Dustin let out a loud groan.

“How is he ever supposed to assimilate if he can’t even have dinner with a group of his friends?” Dustin insisted.

He had something of a point, he did, but something about startling Eddie like that just didn’t feel right. He was so antsy, so on edge. You hadn’t known the guy before prison, but that didn’t matter. The person you’d started to get to know these past two weeks didn’t seem like he’d feel very comfortable with a surprise of any sort, much less a surprise dinner party.

“You’re right. But you’re going about it wrong,” you said honestly. “I think the answer is to plan a dinner party and give him full warning of when it’s happening, where, with whom, and what’s on the menu. Yes, I agree he needs social interactions to properly assimilate, but let’s not overwhelm him all at once. He’s been so jumpy since I’ve met him. That’s not a guy you want to surprise.”

Steve gestured at you like he’d been trying to make this point to Dustin the whole time. Dustin, not one to back away, let out a rather dramatic sigh. “Fine. Whatever, fine. But only because you’re not going to help me if I do it tonight.”

That seemed to be enough for Steve.

“We can do it here, if you’d like,” you suggested. “I can close the bookstore early, and we can use the cafe’s kitchen to finish up whatever dinner we want to make. Or we can order a pizza or something. But it could be nice, I’ll bring out the beanbags and stuff, and we can do it in the game room. Just a nice dinner for him to see all of his friends in one place again, but not overwhelming by being too formal or at anyone’s house. This way, if he wants to go home early, he can.”

There was a silence as both men considered this, and then they both nodded, seemingly satisfied with the idea.

“Yeah, that’s cool. It’s a good idea. We’ll see when everyone is available and then get back to you.” Dustin nodded, and Steve gave you a grateful smile.

When both of them lingered a bit in front of you, you rolled your eyes. “The usual, nerds?”

Steve guffawed as he and Dustin followed you into the coffee shop, “him, sure. I’m not a nerd,” he insisted, but you just gave him a look that shut him up.

You got them their drinks and sent them on their way, helping a few customers before putting your apron away and starting towards the book shelves again. Before you could make it there, you heard the jingling of the bells above the door, and turned to find a disheveled and breathless Eddie. You just pulled your apron back on and hurried to the register with a smile.

“Hey you!” You greeted, but he looked a little frantic, so your smile faltered. “Everything okay?”

“I-” he took a steadying breath, “I couldn’t go through with it. The interview. I stood at the door to the bar, and it was like all the blood drained out of me, and- I couldn’t do it.”

He nearly tugged his hair out as he stood before you, and you put a hand on his arm across the counter, “hey. Hey, it’s okay. Let me brew you a cup of tea, and we can go back and talk in the game room, yeah?”

He let go of his hair and nodded, eyes big and vulnerable. He didn’t know why he’d ended up here, telling you this of all people. Maybe it was that you didn’t have expectations of him, after all, you’d never met him before his stint. It felt easier to confide in someone who didn’t know who he was, or who he had been.

You put lots of care into brewing him the right blend of tea, sweetening it to his taste and then motioning for him to follow you. You hung up your apron and handed him the steaming cup, leading him into the bookstore and then back to the game room. It was decorated for the D&D campaigns your friends liked to run, and had a large table with comfy chairs around it, but most importantly, it had a comfy couch against one wall, and had a door that closed and locked for privacy. No one had rented the room out today, so you let him in and closed the door behind you. You gestured for him to take a seat, which he did, and then took the seat beside him, facing him.

“You know it’s okay, right?” You asked him softly, “it’s okay to not have been okay enough to go in there.”

He sipped carefully from the cup and shrugged. “I’m not usually like this. People have never scared me before. That was, like, my whole thing. I was the town freak, and proud of it.” He paused, “well - not proud of it, exactly, but I wore it like a badge of honor. And now I can’t even walk into a bar for a job interview? How am I ever supposed to hold a job if I can’t even interview?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment before responding, “Eddie, it’s normal that life feels wrong to you right now. It’s normal that you’re having a hard time doing things you never struggled with before. You know that, right? You really need to know that.”

Your tone seemed to ring true to him, and he took a deep breath, but nodded. “Yeah. I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled gently. “So, wanna interview here?”

Despite your previous offer that morning, he seemed taken aback by your genuine offer. He studied you for a moment, as if he expected you to hesitate or take it back, but eventually nodded.

“Okay, how about tomorrow? Wednesdays around 8:30 there’s no one here, we can sit and have a drink and a pastry together and I can interview you, and you can ask me all the questions you want about the job. How’s that sound?”

Again, he seemed truly surprised by your kindness, and took a moment to agree. Really, he was just curious about you. He’d never met anyone as kind, as patient. Sure, he knew his friends loved him, and they really were trying, but there was something about the fact that they knew the old Eddie that put him off. It made him feel insecure - like they were just waiting to get him back. That they didn’t really know this Eddie. This guy was a stranger to them, and he couldn’t blame them. So your kindness to this Eddie, not pity, not walking on eggshells, but genuine kindness… it struck him.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked just a touch when he answered, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, tomorrow, 8:30. I’ll bring my resume. You’re positive this is okay?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you said with a playfully exasperated smile, “I’m positive. It’ll be great. And who knows, maybe we’ll be coworkers,” you grinned at him.

He couldn’t help but to grin back, and something inside of him settled. He sipped at his tea again, and you just sat there together awhile, mostly in silence but also discussing the two books he’d gotten from you two weeks ago, and the books he wanted to try next. When you got up, you led him to the shelves to help him choose his next two. You promised he could pay for one, but you wanted to gift him the other, and he felt pretty special that you wanted to do so for him.

When he left, he seemed considerably less upset than he had when he’d arrived, and honestly, you’d taken that as quite the compliment to your comforting skills. Eddie was incredibly kind, so caring, and wanted so badly to succeed somehow in life. You hoped that maybe with this job, you’d somehow help him - that he’d find a home here, at the shop. You were rather looking forward to the interview with him, though you pretty much planned on hiring him anyway, no matter how the interview went.

You had no way of knowing, but Eddie had gone back to Steve’s that day, seeming more himself than Steve had seen him in the time he was back. He didn’t know what had put Eddie so at ease, but he was grateful for it. He hoped it would last.

Taglist:

@am0iur @ali-r3n @hellmastereddie @ziggeddie @nojamsonmytoast @seedlingghost @loveu2themoonandsaturn @aliceheart247 @littlemissholy @daydreampending @justalotoffanfiction @midnightdragonzero @iyskgd @girlwedontcare @micheledawn1975 @kaita

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mirai-e-jump · 2 months ago

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Uchusen Vol.188 (Spring 2025) Kamen Rider Gavv | Detail of Heroes ft. Main Cast & Director Interviews (other pages and translations below)

Publication: April 1, 2025

Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke

"Half a year has gone by since the program started, but have there been any changes in your surroundings over the course of filming so far?"

Chinen: People rarely called out to me on the street when the show first started airing, but recently, I've had people at the location sites react with, "Ah, it's Shouma!," and children will give me their drawings of Gavv as gifts. It got me to realize that tons of children are watching Gavv.

Hino: I'm glad that you've been working so hard. Everyone's looking at Hide……

Chinen: That goes for Yusuke-kun too!! (laughs).

Hino: No, when we were previously filming at the river, we waved back at a father and his child who were waving at us from the opposite side and saying, "Ah! It's Gavv!" Then, the father kept saying, "He's so cute~"……he wasn't looking at me (laughs).

Chinen: That's not true! He probably didn't realize it was you due to the distance between us (laughs).

Hino: I guess you're right! It's thanks to that costume that he forgot it was me! (laughs).

Chinen: The first time I could really feel the reaction of the fans was on February 5 at the "Super Hero Festival"!

Hino: Right! From adults to children, it made me happy that so many people were cheering us on.

Chinen: Many of them came dressed as Shouma. Both men and women. I thought that Kamen Rider fans were mostly made up of men, but I was surprised and happy to see that there were "so many women as well!"

"Please tell us your first impressions of each other, as well as your current impressions."

Hino: When I first met Hide, I got the impression that he had a puppy like cuteness to him, but after overcoming numerous obstacles over the course of filming so far, he's become more reliable. He used to be the "cute junior" who would ask me various questions, but now I feel like we're rivals who compete with each other in a mutual way. Also, given that we always spend alot of time together, even if we don't exchange words, I've started to tell if he's "doing well today," or if he "didn't get enough sleep today." Although, the way we screw around becomes more intense the closer we get to each other (laughs).

Chinen: Yusuke-kun has a longer career as an actor than I do, so I've been following by his example since filming began. He consults with me after the daily shoot, and has taught me so many things. And then recently, I've gradually come to understand more about acting, and we've been able to discuss the production and my way of thinking as an actor. Previously, all I could do was run after him, but now I feel that we're rivals who inspire each other and can run together.

"Chinen-san also played the role of Dark Shouma, but how was it playing a double role?"

Chinen: Being able to try out a different acting style from that of the usual Shouma was a valuable opportunity, so I prepared a "dark notebook" to write in for the role of Dark Shouma. I went into filming with that same amount of enthusiasm, but because both my performance and post recording time was now doubled, my tiredness came out more easily. However, with the help of Yusuke-kun and the rest of the cast, and with Director Tasaki giving me alot of advice for his first appearance in episode 21, I was able to perform the role without issue. Still, everyone said to me, "You're acting more lively than Shouma normally is" (laughs).

Hino: Hide had just gotten used to playing the role of Shouma, so I envied him since he was able to approach his performance from a different perspective. Even when transforming into Bitter Gavv, he created the role with sparkling eyes by saying stuff like, "What if I stick out my tongue here?," and it looked like he was having fun.

Chinen: When you play a role that's so close to your actual self, you lose sight of the boundaries between yourself and the role. With that being the case, it was very refreshing to play a role in which I ran away without paying for hot oden and beat up the old lady who ran the dagashi shop.

Hino: Yeah? So uh, which role is closer to you? (laughs).

Chinen: You oughta know!! (laughs). I was able to do bad things in my performance that I'd normally never do, so I was eager to create the role. Still, even though Shouma beats up Dark Shouma, those he harmed and the people who were in the area still leave with a bad impression of Shouma. It broke my heart to think that Shouma was creating a difficult situation for people to be in.

"We think that Hanto also had a difficult time dealing with emotional highs and lows, as shocking facts kept being revealed one after another."

Hino: I could feel the Planning and Scriptwriting team's strong determination of, "This is the kind of position Hanto's in" (laughs). After learning that Shouma's part of the Stomach Family, I thought that he was able to reconcile with him, but soon after, he learns about his mother's final moments, and then he learned the truth that his mentour's death had been arranged by Suga……it was like being hit with flurry of punches. Shouma's the only one he can talk to about Granutes from another Kamen Rider's perspective, so if he left him, Hanto would be all alone, wouldn't he? And when that happens, the only person he can count on is Suga, and yet Suga had him wrapped around his finger. While Hanto took an incredible amount of mental damage from that, it was so rewarding for me as an actor.

Chinen: In episode 22, he settles things with Hanto, but right after that in the beginning of episode 23, he rejects him by saying, "I can't deal with you." I could comprehend the story, but it was difficult for me as Shouma to create the flow in which Hanto's feelings would be properly connected to it.

Hino: When Hanto found out that Shouma was part of the Stomach Family, he fell into a mixed feeling of sadness and rage that Shouma had hidden the truth from him, and then there was the confusion and conflicting feelings he had about their friendship up to that point. I prepared with incredible enthusiasm to express this. Still, while deep down in his heart he was expecting for his mother to still be alive, when he was told about his mother's final moments, he came to learn that her encounter with Shouma is what led to her death. I was in a complicated situation, because if I let my emotions explode right then and there, he'd be blaming Shouma, so I had to suppress my emotions. That's why instead of using my performance skills, I just went with the flow and let things naturally take over from there.

"With the addition of their ally Lakia, has there been any change in your teamwork?"

Chinen: Kohei-kun looks cool, but he's a passionate man full of love and who values communication. That's why with Kohei-kun's arrival, everyone has more time to get together.

Hino: We didn't have much time to go out to eat together before Kohei-kun came along. But now the four of us, which includes Sachika, go out to eat together, as well as spend our private time together.

Chinen: Honestly speaking, I was worried that Shouma and Gavv would be overshadowed by Lakia's Kohei-kun, as he already had a year of experience in "Mashin Sentai Kiramager." Kohei-kun is cool and Lakia's character is appealing.

Hino: Vram is also really cool.

Chinen: Vram's first appearance in episode 17 was so cool, that it made me nervous, but in any case, Lakia is appealing.

Hino: There's no doubt that he's cool. However, as Kamen Riders facing the same enemy, I was worried when I simply wondered, "Can they really become friends when he beat the shit out of Hanto?" For Hanto, he's the same species as his mother and mentour's killers, and unlike Shouma, Lakia himself has no feelings for humans. I can't imagine how the relationship between these two will develop.

Chinen: Lakia's not the most social either.

Hino: Lakia's personality change and Hanto's growth will likely cause a sense of friendship to blossom.

"As a result, Shouma had to tell everyone his secret, but were there any changes in your performance compared to when you were hiding it?"

Chinen: I was hoping you'd ask me that! (laughs). Up until now, the level of secrecy would be different depending on the person I was working with, so it'd be like, "I want to keep this secret from Hanto, I've already told this much to Lakia, and this is a secret from Sachika-san." That's why I had to write out these situations in the script as I performed in order to keep them organized. So, I'm relieved that he was able to tell everyone the truth (laughs). Especially since he was able to reveal his secret to Sachika-san, Hapipare really became a place for Shouma to belong, and I think it helped him to feel secure within the story.

Hino: Having a place to return to is nice, isn't it?

"Both Gavv and Valen have appeared in numerous forms, but please tell us your favorite forms for each other's Riders, not your own."

Chinen: It would have to be Valen's Frappe Custom. The Gochizou that Hanto had been using until then had to be given to him by Shouma or made by Suga-san. However, the Frappeis Gochizou is one created just for Hanto. The Gochizou itself has a unique design that's divided into a top and bottom section, with each having a cute name, that being "Frappe Ichirou" and "Frappe Jirou." All the Gochizou-chan are like Shouma's children, but they're special children that he gives to Hanto as presents after overcoming various obstacles.

Hino: The scene where Valen's mark was engraved on it was great.

Chinen: Now that he's powered up, Valen can finally stand on his own (laughs).

Hino: The situation hasn't changed though, as Shouma still had to give him the Gochizou (laughs). I like Gavv's CaKing form. It's the first "Gochizou that doesn't disappear even if it's used," but that's because it's a "handmade sweet created with someone else in mind." I think it's great that those feelings became a special power, as it makes it seem heroic. Also, it's interesting that the Whipped Soldiers come out, as now we can do action scenes with multiple people. The Rider Kick making candles appear is also cool.

Chinen: CaKing form's cape is cool.

Hino: The cape is cool! It's so unfair! Next time, birth a Gochizou for Valen that'll give him a cape too! (laughs).

"Do you have any episodes that have been most memorable so far?"

Hino: It was really tough filming episode 24, where I was covered in ink. My costume was also inked, so it was a one take situation, and I couldn't even go to the bathroom during the shoot in order to avoid getting ink on the set and equipment. In a physical sense, it was the harshest part of the shoot.

Chinen: It's episode 24 for me too. Shouma, who had been weak up until then, recovered with the ice cream Sachika-san gave him, but I personally have a strong emotional attachment to the situation because it was mentally difficult for me to reconcile with Hanto.

"Finally, please give a message to all the Gavv fans."

Hino: From now on, Shouma, Hanto, and Lakia will work together to face the increasingly intense battles against the Stomach Family. As for Hanto, one highlight will be his "battle to protect humans" as a Kamen Rider, where he'll draw upon the bonds he established in the first half of the series. I look forward to your support until the end!

Chinen: After this, Gavv will enter a new chapter, with new enemies and a more expansive story. Not only Shouma's team, but the circumstances of the Stomach Family will also be explored, so please pay attention to that. The foreshadowing that Komura Sensei has been carefully scattering will gradually be brought to light, but even we don't know what will happen in the end either. Everyone, please look forward to future developments! _

Asanuma Shintaro

"Please tell us the details of how you became involved in this work."

Asanuma: I received an offer from Toei. To be honest, I had previously received an offer for the Kamen Rider series, but I wasn't able to appear due to my schedule. I wanted to appear in the series by any means, including as a revenge for that time, so I'm glad that it came to fruition.

"Your image is different from when you voiced Juran in "Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger," so some tokusatsu fans were probably surprised."

Asanuma: Normally, whether I'm a Voice Actor or actor, I usually perform my roles with the consciousness of not making the viewer feel that I'm "Asanuma Shintaro" as much as possible. Ideally, I'd like for people to notice that it's me for the first time during the end credits. As someone who originally came to Tokyo to become a film Director, I'm very happy to be able to spend all my time on the set of the drama, rather than in the usual post recording studio.

"What's your impression of the Kamen Rider series?"

Asanuma: I watched "Kamen Rider (Skyrider)" and "Kamen Rider Super-1" as they aired when I was a child. I also watched "Space Sheriff Gavan" and "Dai Sentai GoggleV," but the tokusatsu heroes that I was particularly engrossed with were from the Kamen Rider series.

"Do you have any special memories?"

Asanuma: It's a shame to say this, as I've had regular appearances in Super Sentai and Ultraman, but the heroes I have a particularly strong attachment to are Kamen Riders. I lost my father when I was four years old, but I still have a cassette tape with his and my voice on it from when he was still alive. In those days, video cameras had yet to become a commodity in most households, so the only memories I have of my father are in photographs and on that cassette tape. On side A of the cassette, there's the voice of my father reading the Kamen Rider manga to me and my older sister. It was the original manga drawn by Ishinomori Shotaro Sensei, so I think it was alittle difficult for me to understand at the time (laughs). And then, side B has the sounds of my father and I playing Kamen Rider. That's why Kamen Rider is an important connection between me and my father, and an indispensable part of my life.

"We heard that you also did hero shows. Did you ever perform as a Kamen Rider?"

Asanuma: After serving as grunts and monsters, my first time performing in a hero suit was for MammothRanger in the "Kyoryu Sentai Zyuranger" show, and from there, I played Kamen Rider V3, Stronger, and Black RX, just to name a few. When it came to the shows, they were gorgeous, in part because they used original stories, but there were also joint performances with senior Riders and Super Sentai, which wasn't common at the time. After that in 2000, I created and directed a performance called "Zipper!," which was a hero show about what they do behind the scenes, but in order to familiarize the performers to the world of the show, I was assisted through the cooperation of a show team that I had previously worked with. Since I referred to them at the time (laughs), I participated with them and played the role of Kuuga. I also participated in the show when they revived "Zipper!" in 2003, playing the role of Faiz.

"We'd like to ask you about Kamen Rider Gavv this time. What were your first impressions when you heard about the setting and worldview of this work?"

Asanuma: I was particularly surprised that it was a "sweets Kamen Rider." I've been surprised by Rider designs in the past, but I never thought I'd be surprised by the motif. Then again, I was also incredibly surprised when fruit was used in "Kamen Rider Gaim" (laughs). I thought, "What kind of substance would come from a sweets motif?," but there were many aspects that reminded me of Showa era Riders, such as "leaving while concealing his name and true identity," "being perceived as a monster," and "becoming a hero after being remodified." It also made me happy that the secondary Rider wears leather and has the occupation of a "reporter." It was also an honor for me to be the one in charge of his remodification surgery. That's why when I heard that Suga was going to transform, I started imagining things like, "He's a scientist, so maybe he'll become the Reiwa version of Ika Devil?" (laughs).

"But instead of becoming a monster, he transformed into a Kamen Rider."

Asanuma: The only thing I could say was, "Alright!" (laughs). When filming started, I never heard anything about me transforming into a Kamen Rider. However, I was told by one of the staff members that, "If you keep saying that you want to transform, it could happen." So, I was absurdly honest and kept saying it, and then my wish came true (laughs). While I might have been too greedy, I really wanted to become a popcorn Rider! My first photo book was titled "POPCORN," and I said to myself, "If I'm going to transform, I have to become a popcorn Rider!" I can talk about this now, but the reason Suga would snap his fingers every now and again was my way of adlibbing the impression that "it's bursting like popcorn." In the end, I was told, "A Popcorn Gochizou will appear, but it won't be used for transforming" (laughs).

"You put in alot of painful effort before you transformed into a Kamen Rider, huh? (laughs)."

Asanuma: Incidentally, when Hanto returns to the lab after making up his mind to undergo the remodification surgery in episode 6, I was eating peanuts, which was also me adlibbing. I used the peanuts that were served on set to express Suga's sense of composure that "he'll come back soon enough," and his lack of humanity, as he's carelessly eating during a serious scene. Actually, it may have also come from some expectation that I'd "transform into a Rider with a nut themed sweet……" (laughs).

"What was it like filming the transformation scene?"

Asanuma: One thing I was particular about wasn't the pose, but the way "Henshin" was said. It was a very relaxed and unserious way of saying it, that being, "What was it again? Ah, that's right. Henshin." What I envisioned was a system where the Bakemagnum is activated through the input of a vocal keyword at the end like, "I said it because I had to say it." "Henshin" is a very important word for Kamen Riders, and I think it's one that even evil Riders cherish. However, the man called Suga would never cherish it (laughs). For Suga, the use of his transformation item and the way he says "Henshin" isn't a cool signature phrase, but are instead just "a part of the process." Therefore, I thought about how much I could do to create a transformation that would be unsuitable for NichiAsa. When I demonstrated it in front of the Producer, he said, "Uwah, that's scary," so I felt that this was the right thing to do.

"To begin with, how did you prepare for the role of Suga?"

Asanuma: I expanded upon the image I got from the script and added things like, "He can't take a hint." Suga isn't a "suspicious monster," but rather a "freak with significantly low interest regarding people." For example, when Hanto tells him that his mother was kidnapped in episode 4, before he empathizes with his painful situation, he's more interested in the fact that she was taken alive and not as a Human Press. He's lacking sensibility, and he couldn't help but quickly ask, "That was how many years ago?" without lowering the tone of his voice. I'm conscious of making him the kind of "guy you don't want to open up to as much as possible." Out of all the characters in Gavv, I think he's by far the least trusted by the viewers (laughs).

"Did the Directors or staff give you any orders for the creation of your role?"

Asanuma: One day, I found a note tucked inside the script explaining Suga's past and background. It was by Scriptwriter Komura-san, and she wrote about how Suga isn't simply just a mad scientist and why he's so obsessed with Hanto. However, I was given this just before filming of episode 27. I was shocked and was like, "Is now the time for this?!" (laughs). That said, I also felt that the image of Suga that I had created up to this point wasn't wrong, so even if I had received the note earlier, I don't think it would've made much difference. Sadly, Suga was defeated, so I don't know if the contents of the note will be depicted in a future work, but I hope it'll be revealed in something like a spin off.

"Did you have meetings with Bake's Suit Actor Kitamura Kai-san?"

Asanuma: I have a mutual acquaintance with Kai-san, so I greeted him and we exchanged LINES when he was playing Otake (the Mushroom Granute) in episodes 5 and 6. Before filming for Bake, I gave him a voice message saying, "This is how I'd read this line," and he would listen to it and perform the post transformation version of it. Therefore, I have the impression that the two of us created Bake's performance together. Also, we both have similar heights and are left handed. I was surprised by this wonderful coincidence, and at the same time, I was excited to think that he'd be able to naturally portray my transformed self.

"Asanuma-san, you've appeared many times as a Voice Actor in tokusatsu productions, but how was post recording for Gavv?"

Asanuma: I didn't think that Suga was the kind of guy who'd go, "Hah!" or "Oriya!," so even during battle, I would say rough, casual lines like, "How about this?" or "Let's stop doing that. It's unsightly~." I was just talking the whole time. Hide and Yusuke, who were watching, were shocked and said, "It's okay to record so liberally?!" I panicked and said, "No, no, this is because it's Suga! You guys aren't allowed to imitate me!" (laughs).

"We've been asking everyone involved with Gavv, but what's Asanuma-san's favorite sweet?"

Asanuma: I like anything, but I think I eat snack (crispy) items most often. By the way, Bake uses a chocolate chip cookie Gochizou, but an anime I appeared in not that long ago called "Promise of Wizard" collaborated with "Aunt Stella's Cookies" and ran a campaign in which the characters from the anime refer to their favorite cookies. At that time, I played the character Owen, and he recommended their chocolate chip cookies. For almost four months now, I've been thinking, "I want to tell everyone about this coincidence!" I finally got my chance to tell you about it (laughs).

"Finally, please give a message to our readers."

Asanuma: Will Nyelv-kun read it?

"No, direct it towards our readers (laughs)."

Asanuma: Ah, sorry (laughs)……To be honest, I'd like to use this opportunity to apologize. Up until now, I've been asked many times by friends and the other actors around me, "Will Suga transform?" We weren't at the stage yet where I could talk about it, so I kept saying, "I can't, I can't. I'm doing my best not to make my exit."…….Everyone, forgive me! I did transform!……Hah~ I feel relieved! Finally, I'm free now (laughs). And then, to all the fans who support Shouma and Hanto and their friends. I'm truly sorry for making you feel uneasy up until now……or maybe, thank you if you did feel uneasy. Kenzo Suga's role was to stir up Gavv's story, so it'd make me happy if you've been watching Suga with that feeling in mind. Now that the selfish, psycho, and annoying being that was Suga has been defeated, who will your fear and anger be directed towards now? How about Nyelv-kun? Nyelv-kun! You'll have to take care of the rest! (laughs). It wasn't quite the image of Kamen Rider that I had envisioned from my childhood, but I'm proud that I was able to leave my mark on the show. I'd like to go to my father's grave and report this to him. I'll say, "I know it's different from what you remember, but I transformed into a Kamen Rider." _

Action Director Fujita Satoshi

"You've worked as a performer in many productions up until now, but what made you decide to become an Action Director?"

Fujita: I'm short, and when I first started working in this field, I was told by those around me that "it'd be difficult to continue working as an action actor when I'm this short, and that I should consider a different career path." That's why I started helping Watanabe Jun-san, who also went from being a performer to an Action Director with "Kamen Rider Zero-One," and starting around "Saber," I helped edit video storyboards (storyboards made with moving pictures), and from there, my vision for being an Action Director grew. After that, Producer Minato, who's also a close friend of mine, hired me as the Action Director for "Kamen Rider Outsiders," and that came to be the stepping stone for where I am now. The presence of Director Nakazawa and Producer Takebe, who selected me as the Action Director for "Kamen Rider Geats" TV series, was also very important.

"What exactly does the job of an Action Director entail?"

Fujita: In some cases, I'll think about the direction, and once I've thought about it, I'll go as far as to say, "I'll request a crane on this day, and will arrange the amount of people needed to assist the action staff on that day." It feels like I spend more time on paperwork. However, maybe it's just the way I spend my time. Director Kamihoriuchi has an incredibly sophisticated way of doing things, and he manages to do them skilfully and smoothly. I'd like to learn from him. Looking back on it now, I've loved music videos since I was a teenager, so when I was listening to the music, I'd think about the shots and direction in my head. So, maybe I had the desire to become a Director even back then. I still have a desire to shoot music videos, and perhaps that's connected to the fact that I tend to create catchy scenes when I'm filming action.

"Please tell us how you became the Action Director for the final episode of "Kamen Rider Revice."

Fujita: Sites like "Wikipedia" say that I worked with Jun-san as an Action Director for the final episode of Revice, but in reality, I only directed the scene where Kan Hideyoshi-kun from Geats appears. All he did was encounter and speak with Igarashi Ikki in front of the bathhouse, so I didn't really do that much as an Action Director.

"So Geats was your debut as an Action Director for a TV series. Now then, how did you get the offer for Gavv?"

Fujita: I was approached by Producer Takebe, who had also helped me with Geats. At that point, it was packed with tons of original ideas, and I personally felt that it was really interesting. Once the script's setting and plot were completed, I was surprised to find that despite its poppin appearance, the details of the story were very harsh. Shouma's life growing up is also quite tragic.

"What do you keep in mind when filming this work?"

Fujita: This isn't just for Gavv, but I'm always conscious of creating actions based on a person's background and personality, rather than the impression I get from their appearance. That's why I wanted to forget about Gavv's heroic design for a moment, and instead create a wild stance and fighting style for him that reflects his origins where "a Granute is a monster." I discussed this with Gavv's Suit Actor Nawata Yuya-san, and we came up with the style you see now. We of course didn't disregard the design, rather, we calculated the advantages of "the gap between that design and the wild actions."

"How did you think of Valen's actions so that they'd be in contrast to the wild Gavv?"

Fujita: At first, I imagined Valen as a cool character, but when I read the scripts for episodes 5 and 6, in which he fights an enemy as a Kamen Rider for the first time, I got the impression that he was more desperate to bear his fangs than be cool. Director Morota agreed with me on this. Also, unlike how Shouma's from the Granute world, Hanto was just an ordinary human before he underwent the remodification surgery, right? Based on this, I decided to create a character who'd be loved by the viewers for being "not super strong," but "passionate and reliable."

"It was shocking to see Valen get crushed by Glotta in his second appearance."

Fujita: I was also shocked and said, "How can he get the shit kicked out of him during his second battle?!" (laughs). However, Director Sugihara wanted to make Glotta an overwhelmingly strong character, so I understood, thinking, "If that's the case, then it's alright for Valen to suffer." Still, in episodes 7 and 8, Valen's Suit Actor Kaji also did jumping scenes, and Valen had many cool stunt like highlights, which made him really cool.

"What about Vram, the tertiary Kamen Rider?"

Fujita: I also discussed with Suit Actor Eitoku-san on how to express the character who comes after the wild Gavv and the passionate Valen. In fact, Gavv's "wildness" and Valen's "passionate ruggedness" are similar in some ways, so we decided on a "downer but cool type," as it was an attribute that neither Rider had. At first, I thought of him using a fighting style called "pudding kenpo," in which the Rider is always shaking while fighting, as it would take advantage of the "pudding Rider" and "jellyfish motif the Granute transforms from" setup. I came up with various ideas and also created video storyboards, but in the end, they were rejected (laughs). The only thing that remained was the "knee sliding into a yankii sitting pose" scene, which was used to agitate Valen. That was a move that I had been cooking up since the beginning. As a result, I decided on his fighting style by expanding upon that move.

"Please tell us about their opponent, Kamen Rider Bitter Gavv."

Fujita: Bitter Gavv wasn't that strong when he first appeared, as he leaves the scene after Vram puts enough pressure on him. Nevertheless, I thought about adding in a variety of fun elements. When I think up actions, I try to include elements that'll make people "want to imitate them." Therefore, Bitter Gavv was given a distinctive stance, and I also included the scenes where his joints dislocate during battle. If those who watch the program think, "That's cool~, I wanna dislocate my joints too," then I'll have succeeded (laughs). You really shouldn't dislocate them! For scenes where his joints dislocate, Suit Actor Nakata-kun and I discussed, "Wouldn't it look more detached if we did it this way?," and I created a video storyboard. Chinen Hidekazu-kun's performance as Dark Shouma was also really good.

"For this series, Gavv is made up of a small number of regular characters and Riders, but wasn't it difficult to create multiple Riders in a production like Geats?"

Fujita: I always think in terms of "this person is likely to do that," but on the flip side, I'll create their personalities by subtracting things that "this person wouldn't be able to do." I'll explain this directing method to the Suit Actors and ask them to come up with their own personalities. That way, I'm sometimes able to make use of the ideas they come up with as they are, use them later once they've grown, or maybe I'll use them for another character.

"Please tell us what you're conscious of in terms of the Granute characters that appear in each episode."

Fujita: I also try to take the beliefs and personal lives of the grunts and monsters into consideration. Tokusatsu works don't often delve into those kinds of aspects for the monsters, but……as an example, I think that a monster with hammers for arms lives a life of their own with those hammers. I'm a fan of Ghibli productions, and the worlds that Miyazaki Hayao-san depicts have a sense of reality within the fantasy. In a similar way, I believe that fantasy creatures like monsters can be made more convincing by presenting their beliefs, and when that happens, viewers will become more invested in the monster and show. I think the mood of the Agents performances is a particularly important part of showing Gavv's worldview.

"For the "reality in the form of fantasy," what exactly did you want to express?"

Fujita: For example, when a Rider pulls out a weapon, even though nothing should be there, they'll often pull it out from behind their backs or from out of frame, but I didn't want to do that. Therefore, I made sure that the Gavvgablade that Gavv uses comes out of the mouth on his stomach. Doing it like this increases the level of reality within the fantasy, don't you think? I think it'll get the viewers excited and invested in it. At the same time, it's also possible to create a "subtractive" direction like, "If the mouth is covered, the weapon can't come out."

"Are there any impressive action scenes that you've directed so far?"

Fujita: This is relevant to what I said before, but ever since the Gavvgablade first appeared, it just popped out of the mouth on his stomach, but I'm sure those watching must've thought, "I wish it came out looking cooler." The first time I made that look cool was in episode 11, when the sword flies out of the belt and hits an Agent. If I cut out that scene, the impression would've been something like, "Well, it's still interesting," but I think those who watched it were moved by their desire to see the "sword come out in a cool way." I like scenes that are created by build ups like those.

"In that episode, a highlight was the battle scene where they fight while knocking over the vending machine."

Fujita: Nawata-san and I both did our best in episode 11, but Director Kamihoriuchi did an amazing job of preparing things. Immediately after the script was finished, we received an order for "the battle to have these kinds of vibes," and it was decided that we'd construct a back alley set instead of filming on location. We prepared vending machines and outdoor units for the shoot, and then were subsequently given the order, "Since we can use the difference in elevation, can you think of some actions to take advantage of this?" I made about three video storyboards and had thorough discussions, and I exchanged ideas with the Director, where we came up with some interesting scenes, such as knocking over a vending machine and dropping an outdoor unit.

"Gavv uses lots of CG effects, but how do you shoot action scenes that use CG compositing?"

Fujita: Green screen filming techniques are common now, but it's still difficult to construct a scene from the script and have the entire film staff understand it. In my case, I'll discuss things with the Director, create a video stroyboard, and then think about the angles we want to shoot from and figure out what filming method to use. Along with it being easier to understand than verbal communication, we're also more likely to share opinions such as, "If that's the case, then maybe this is a better way to do it."

"The action of fighting by grabbing onto onomatopoeia words such as "munyu" is a direction unique to Gavv."

Fujita: That was shot on site using wire action, and then the letters for "munyu" would be added in post. I love wire action.

"Please tell us about any challenges you've experienced during filming so far."

Fujita: There have been so many challenges, that I don't know which one to talk about (laughs). What I'd like to say is that I've seen people on SNS say that, "Gavv started filming early, so it's nice that they have plenty of leeway," but because we started filming early, the deadline is also early, so there's really no time to spare. Toei's currently in the process of changing the filming schedule in order to "start preparations and filming early so they can create a good production." This policy will be very good for the coming future, but Gavv is stuck in the middle of this transitional period, so we're still exploring some things. The film staff and cast have been working hard despite such a schedule due to all the fans who look forward to the broadcasts.

"Will you no longer work as a Suit Actor in the future?"

Fujita: I do one offs every now and again, but balancing major roles like I used to do with being an Action Director is difficult. When I was working as a Suit Actor, moments where the character I was playing shined or gained depth felt rewarding. Still, I think the Action Director that I am now has more authority over giving depth to characters. I don't have a particular preference for one over another, but right now, as an Action Director, I'm excited about making Gavv and Valen and their friends shine. I'm doing everything I can to make it exciting for the children in front of the screens, the adult fans, and for Sugita-san, the Writer for Uchusen's "Detail of Heroes."

"Sugita-san too?! (laughs)."

Fujita: Sometimes when I'm directing, I'll think, "Sugita-san, you'll probably like this angle," or "Sugita-san! You'll be able to see the details here" (laughs).

"That's an honor. We'll pass this on to him. Finally, please tell us Fujita-san's favorite sweet."

Fujita: If I had to choose, I'd say it's "uirou." It's not a specialty from my hometown or anything like that, I just prefer uirou to yokan.

"Now then, please give a message to all the Gavv fans."

Fujita: Many people have said, "this Rider is my favorite," but I hope that the action was the deciding factor in making them their "favorite." The film staff and action team are working together, and we're doing our best to deliver you beautiful action, so please continue to support us!

127 notes · View notes

beiasluv · 2 years ago

Text

forbidden fruit pt.2 | charles leclerc

part 1

a/n: i wrote last part at like midnight, apologies for any typos 💀 enjoyy 🤍

‘y/n l/n and charles leclerc. forbidden love, rival or lovers?’

front line mercedes driver, l/n, and the ferrari driver, leclerc, had been seen having a conversation together before the grand prix in italy…

“y/n, question for you please.”

the conference room. same old same old. lewis, you, and george were seated together in front of thousands of lenses, ready to pick each and every length of your skin just to get a piece of information they could sell to the media.

it was the day before the big race in italy, the media was catching their eyes closely at all the drivers - especially you know which two.

“..yes?”

“about the incident after the qualifying round, what had happened with charles?”

the clicking of the pens and the scratching of the notebooks were starting to get you any minute. clearing your throat you grabbed the mic closer to your mouth,

“i’m sure charles meant no harm..we’re racers..erm…rivalry isn’t the furthest thing from us.”

“are you dating charles, y/n?”

alarms were set off in your mind. it would be a crime if george and lewis couldn’t hear them. you were nothing with charles leclerc. he’s the reddest flag of all. really. you were nothing.

"we," clearing your throat and grabbing your mic closer to your dry lips. "we're not talking on any terms."

smile, y/n. smile for the cameras.

"what are your thoughts on the ferrari team this season? any comments?"

the journalist raised his hands through the crowd, his pen almost fell off his lap from the enthusiasm.

"it was always a challenge to race with any team on the track, ferrari included," you nodded. "the ferrari has a strong car, they are one of the many tough contenders. obviously, every team wishes to win...and so does mercedes," glancing a tight smile at the interviewer who took the answer down the notebook. perhaps a little bit too messy for your driver's head to decipher.

"how about when leclerc saved you? any additional comment?"

"i.."

you caught lewis shifting in his seat; his hands started to calm up together in front of the mic, seated between the three drivers and the whole internet. you could only pray your zoning out was missed by the media and you know who.

if only you could express your infinite pain of being the only female in the male-dominant sport, no paper could ever hold just a nick of the feminine rage pregnant inside you.

how come the only question you got asked was about 'charles,' 'men,' 'dating' and never the sophisticated 'performance car racing' or the ones filled with personalities?

george russell, for the record, your biggest shipper, even chipped in. he pushed the mic closer to his face and looked dead into the camera - if looks could kill - "please, this is a mercedes drivers' briefing."

the tension is sky-high, or you could say: rocket-sky-high. george settled back in his seat as you threw him a quick thankful smile. only god knows what the media is going to make up this time.

'george to the rescue'? bullshit.

"lewis, over here please."

"y/n, leclerc's getting aggressive. be careful for an overtake-"

"copy-"

the adrenaline is rushing, flowing, and doing whatever the heck it can in your bloodstream. pushing the pedal as hard as your baby could possibly could, the wind rushed against your face. if it wasn't for the helmet you had on, your face would've been cut like it were a thousand knives thrown at you.

looking to your right you see the infamous red ferrari again, surging with the wind and springing out against the green grass beside the track.

"leave space! you fucking-" you muttered as your fingers tick all the necessary buttons of the formula 1 car in order to keep your position above the ferrari. "what the fuck is he doing!"

praying the car tires could take a bit more, you applied as much pressure you felt comfortable on your baby for the first place behind the checkered end line. you glanced at the body behind the mask of the helmet as you continued to push and pray, push and pray.

if only you knew the ferrari was reciprocating the act.

what was important was you finishing above leclerc - mercedes finishing above ferrari, of course.

"leclerc! y/n! leclerc! who's going to win?! would he complete the overtake?!"

holding on to your steering wheel for your dear life, you saw something of a maroon color rushing to your side. perhaps it was the speed of the car that distorted your vision or was it something in your cheeks?

shut up-

"leclerc! leclerc! leclerc! ferrari have gained another victory home! ladies and gentlemen, charles leclerc!"

"fuck!"

the cracking sound from your radio chimed in your ears - at the worst time possible - "y/n! 0.02 second behind leclerc! P2!"

yeah, thanks. thanks for rubbing it in your face that leclerc had beaten you once again.

"..thanks," slowing your car down against the wind, you came to a halt after the race line; obviously at a considerable distance behind the red ferrari. climbing out and plastering on a fake smile for the media and your beloved fans.

the monégasques national anthem was blasted through the speaker throughout the whole podium. any fan knew this song belonged to any of the leclerc and ferrari, for now.

holding your hands in the comfort of in front of you, you tried to remain calm throughout the whole song. nevertheless, your heartbeat was beating fast for the obvious reason after the race.

the shit-eating grin was plastered on the driver standing on P1. can you even blame him? congratulations, you had beaten your rival for the longest time and were placed on P1 while wearing your infamous red suit.

while you were wearing your notorious mercedes's fire suit on your waist, just like all the drivers on the grid (and charles), you grabbed the champagne bottle as the others did so.

"good one, leclerc.”

you sprayed the champagne straight onto the monégasques’s back, maybe it was a little intentional that you shook the bottle a little harder for more pressure of the liquor.

no hard feelings, of course. you only knew his hair was soaked under the cap on his head and the tingling of the bubbles down his neck.

how unfortunate.

charles smirked back as he aimed his half-empty champagne bottle at you, "it's still not a date."

what.?

seeing you in your stunned state, he lowered the bottle to an acceptable level. leclerc cleared his throat and wiped the foam of champagne off his upper lips and chin; looking back with the biggest annoying grin on his face, "congrats on the podium. next race?"

oh, how you wish you could smack his grin off his mother fucking face again. rubbing it into your face.

the media..the media. breathe in, breathe out.

"will do, 16."

"congratulations on P2,"

toto patted your back as he entered the mercedes's headquarters. how lovely it is to see his drivers bundled up in his room, once again, after a race 'gone wrong.'

"what is it this time," he sighed as he lowered himself to his chair, not ready to be resigning the team principal position for a therapist for his driver.

the room was your comfort zone, safe to say. the picture of toto's kid, susie, and all of his essentials to complete the job for a team principal. crashing into his room with george wasn't an abnormal thing in your team, nor was it the first time of your career with him.

"they kept asking if you're dating charles, huh?" toto grinned as he faked wipe his mouth for the dramatic effect.

"i'm sick of it-"

the environment of the room shifted - for the better, surprisingly. also. did you mention the fact that this room felt more like a therapy session than a team principal's room?

and. wikipedia got it wrong, it was: toto wolff, team principal and CEO of mercedes, and a part-time therapist.

perfect.

"i'm sure we've put on a great fight," toto nodded towards you, the unspoken tension of the media was killing you inside out.

"i'm sick of the media, toto-"

george shifted next to you on the black sofa, "who knows, they're just trying to write a story out of nothing."

"it'll be the death of me if I have to continuously declare my love life on the internet," resting your head back on the back of the couch you did.

the coldness in the room was cleared by a bit as george snaked his arm around the back of the couch, he whispered into your ear, "you don't have a thing for charles..do you?"

"i hate you."

"night, toto. night, george."

bidding toto and george goodbyes, you grabbed your bag from the floor and beeline for the exit door.

the hotel bed is calling your name like a mantra at this point. the race was mentally and physically exhausting, what could be better than a nice, warm bath and a soft bed waiting for you?

the sky was pitch black, darker than your deepest thoughts in solitary, but the pitch was never dark. thanks to the eyes-scorching light to illuminate the track during the night races.

“sup lando..sup daniel”

“good race, l/n.”

walking past a couple of drivers, quick and friendly nods were exchanged as you head for the garage for your beloved mercedes.

and for the love of god, the eyes of the ferrari next to your mercedes were ignited.

how could this get even better?

making your way into the garage, you tried to be as quiet as you possibly could. digging in your purse for the key was a painful ride to ride.

'ah, found it.'

your fingertip dug into the muscle memory as you press the button you hoped was coded with 'unlock.'

fuck.

how gracious of mercedes to make the unlocking sound so loud. so loud that it caught the attention of the ferrari driver. so loud that leclerc's neck flicked towards the sound of your car and you swore you could feel his grin growing.

the second slowed down by a quarter as you seized the handle for the door and swung your bag and body inside the car. perhaps it was not fast enough for the P1 winner today as he made his way next to your car before you could even shut the door. ignoring his steps as he teasingly walked over to his ferrari and played with the key in his hand.

"you put up a great fight for the first place," he grinned. "next time.." he opened his ferrari,

“eyes on the track, l/n.”

"how-...don't you worry about it, leclerc," you scoffed, hiding the beating of your heart. fucking hell- stop beating so fast-

raising his eyebrows in one quick, swift motion, he entered his ferrari, "of course." the driver was fully engulfed by the shadows of the vertical door, but his eyes were still looking into yours, "nice drive today."

"you too."

your phone screen screamed it was 2 in the morning, but who cares? the tiktok on your phone was a little more entertaining than seeing charles off the track - okay, maybe a lot less - but the thing so addicting about tiktok was a life mystery for you.

curling up to your side, your phone was plugged into the wall next to your bed, your hand starting to get numb from holding your phone for too long.

asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. you were going to go mad. for the love of anyone, if you see one more edit of charles leclerc on your fyp, you are going to throw your phone out-

honestly, you wouldn't lie that you enjoy an edit of yours once in a while, but hell, charles leclerc..fucking leclerc...who told him that he can look so fucking fine after a horrible race from the ferrari?

you were almost tempted to slam your phone on the nightstand and get some sleep for the night. also. who cares if you wake up late tomorrow?

knock..knock

"oh, come on," you cursed. the audacity to knock at 2 in the morning?

you swung yourself off the comfort of your hotel bed and tiptoed towards the door of your room. your pajama short and oversized t did not help with providing the necessary warmth.

peaking through the cat-eye, you saw the last thing you were expecting.

charles leclerc, in the flesh. he was leaning one of his arms on your door as he was about to raise his hand for another knock.

"gasly! open the door-"

"have a problem, leclerc?"

gosh, you wished you could take a pic of how terrified he looked. shit. was he looking at the unbearable state of yours, or what? short shorts, oversized t, and your hair-

"y/n- i'm-"

squinting your eyes, you adjusted to the light of the hallway, "gasly's not here."

silence engulfed the air between you like a buffet. he continued to stare blankly at you. gosh- could he stop with his dark, green, eyes- fuck. "…leclerc?"

was it the tension or your ears going deaf - you weren't sure - that made you couldn't even hear his - probably lame - excuse of why he knocked at your door at 2 in the fucking morning.

what did matter was the blabbering of his mouth traveled through one ear and straight to the other, just like an f1 car, speeding on any straight path-

"-i think i'm fucking in love with you"

"charles...don't."

charles stopped - his breathing, his steps, his brain, and whatever he could be conscious of. you started - started leaning onto the door, started clutching the other hand to the door blocking the other half of your heart from his.

"what d'you mean 'don't'?" leclerc's mouth was gaped, letting the least amount of air in to keep his heart beating - for you.

retracting your hand, and the door, away from him; you still found his hand in the comfort of over yours, the one that you held onto the door to not fall onto the wooden floor of your hotel room.

every breath you took was a sharp nick on your lungs, but you've managed to heaped out, "i'm sorry, charles-" just in time before your lungs would betray you.

"why?...why?...please-"

"why? -really? why?"

finally regaining the willpower to look back at him, and not cry, you were greeted with his reddened eyes, "what the fuck do you want with me-?"

"you- you could go around and tell me all these nice things in front of my face and- and god knows what you've been calling me behind my back-"

his grip on your hands tightened as he opened his mouth again, but you cut him short- "it drives me crazy- fucking crazy that you act all so nice to me when we've fought our whole lives against each other."

"...what ever happened to all of your loathing glares when i'm on the podium?"

who cares what the sleeping people, ghosts, or whoever the fuck on this floor hears. you were done with cradling your heart as far away as you could from the pitch. it was stupid. fucking humiliating, at least, that you've found yourself back - back at the start.

all the effort to fight for your place on the grid as the only female driver and all of your effort to carry your dignity above all the scandals came crashing down just for a second of your selfish desires. was it so bad to want love from someone who really cares for you all your life?

dancing, kissing, crying, loving. was it so hard to deny when it is literally in front of your fucking face? under the reddest flag of all.

you wished and prayed every day that the races would be over soon so you could stop seeing his shit-eating grin, his eyes, his remarks, his cologne filling the air whenever he walked past.

charles stood in silence, unmoving, as if the time had stopped. if only you knew he was trying- trying to find the right word to express this weird sensation in his brain, his chest, his fucking heart. they all just ended up tangled in italian, frech, and english. mon amour. my life-

"..is that how you really think of me-" he felt slightly betrayed by his wrong tone, but even more by your thoughts.

"you think- y/n- you think i'm just trying to tick you off the podium?"

"..are you?" wiping the tears that betrayed you and escaped from the comfort of your eyes. "look- look at all the headlines- 'mercedes and ferrari.' is this really the- the condition you want to love under?"

"i'll love you under any condition i want," he breathed shakily as he continued to hold the door of your room open. who cares about the ruffled sheet you left or your phone uncharged by the bed?

"there's nothing between us-"

"you have a girlfriend for fuck's sake!"

"it's a PR relationship! and who cares what the media thinks? i'm not doing ferrari any good by confessing my heart raw to you-"

"you think mercedes is getting anything out of this but rumors? i've fought the press for all my fucking life from the scandals inside the pit-"

"this isn't about mercedes, and this isn't about the goddamn media-”

charles ran his hand through his messed up hair, "and I would have thought you knew that..."

"maybe- maybe i don't. maybe i'm too scared to love again. maybe i'm too scared of what would happen if we ended on a bad note. maybe i'm a coward for not wanting to open my heart for you.

-maybe i'm stupid...for you"

"you're not stupid," he said- decreasing the gap between you two, trying his hardest not to reach to wipe your tears.

"we won't work out," you sighed. "we'll focus on our drives, we'll fight, you'll leave."

"please," charles grabbed your waist and pulled you in, once again - you gave in. "i'll make it work."

all your walls came crumbling down as you broke down like a dam on his shoulder. you buried your face onto his chest and gripped his shirt until you didn't care it would crease. a mantra of apologies came out of charles's mouth that you wouldn't even waste an energy to decipher.

his hands found their natural comfort in your lower back, rubbing in lines of traces and tracks you'd spend the rest of your life trying to decipher.

tucking a piece of your hair behind, he kissed all of your tears away. his mustache which had grown since the karting days grazed your skin like they were made for each other. his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much like an idiot in front of your hotel room..106.

you were still gripping his shirt hard, as he closed the space between your lips and his. it seemed like all of your walls were crushed to the point of no returning; towering over you, he pressed his body against yours like there was no more- like the last lap of the race.

the level of oxygen in your lungs was starting to set off an alarm in your head, but you didn't care. you were kissing the reddest flag of all in the grid and you were not regretting anything.

pulling away for air, he smiled against your lips; sending a wave of breath onto your chin.

"you have a lot to explain to toto."

"i'll have my ways..."

oh my goodnesss. if you like it, please do whatever you want to, I’ll appreciate it 🫶🏻

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, luvv 🤍

tag: @leclerclvr @buendiabebeta @be-your-coffee-pot @al-luvx

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taylorswiftstyle · 1 year ago

Text

2024 Golden Globe Awards | Los Angeles, CA | January 7, 2024

Gucci gown

Let it be known my Roman Empire is painted a shade of aurora borealis green.

I’m biased. I love it. You’re buckling up for a rave. But everyone knew that, right?

I want it on record that no one should be surprised when they see this lewk on the TSS Favourite Outfits of 2024 list. And that I’ll devise some maniacal strategy to make it make sense to include in every annual list from here to eternity.

Let's get the obvious out of the way in that this shade of green could easily be interpreted as very snakelike and thus a nod to reputation and its forthcoming re-recorded version. I'd even happily apply it to the teal-y and springlike green of debut if we want to go debutation on this.

But if we are to talk about Gucci we have to talk about the precipice the house is upon right now. As it relates to Taylor, I suspect her dress (specific shade TBD - Chartreuse? Apple? Pear? Some other adjacent fruit that’s a feast for my eyes?) is a preview of Fall 2024 and a clear indicator of the path the new creative director Sabato De Sarno’s will take the brand in. Which is to say, muting the eccentricity of Alessandro Michele’s era of Gucci that brought the brand to a new level of renown in favour of something cleaner and sexier. Nicole Phelps for Vogue already noted that De Sarno’s first collection for Gucci — Spring 2024’s Ancora, meaning ‘again’ in English and released in September — evokes a Gucci when Tom Ford was once at the helm, praising De Sarno’s approach to “the upfront sex appeal of those ’60s-by-way-of-the-’90s shapes, and straight riffs on Ford hits” while “establish[ing De Sarno’s] essentials, focusing on cut and proportion, and repeating shapes for emphasis.”

Indeed, Taylor’s gown is directly reminiscent of a Fall 2004 look from Ford’s Gucci - all green sparkles and sexy disco energy. This makes sense when we consider De Sarno’s history and homeworking when he decided to take the creative director post. He told WWD, “Gucci to me equals luxury … the first fashion piece I ever owned was a Gucci jacket by Tom Ford. I still remember I traveled to Rome to buy it with my friend … luxury was really not part of our world. Television was the only way to see fashion for me back then.” He added, “My ambition is to build an aesthetic message with an edited collection that is mindful of Gucci’s heritage and close to my own aesthetics.”

When we consider my personal history with Taylor and Gucci, I don’t have to look very far to immediately picture one of my all time favourite Taylor looks — the 2014 Grammys when she wore a sparkling Gucci Première column gown which is not too dissimilar to this one. What can I say, I’m consistent. The shape, the perfect kiss-the-floor hemming, and obviously the divine colour that really pops on Taylor will have me swooning for a long time.

At the end of it all, what I come back to is De Sarno’s sentimentality to naming his first collection: Ancora. Again. He told WWD, “Ancora is a word that you use when your desire is not over yet … I want to fall in love with fashion all over again — ancora.” In the same interview he said, “I like words a lot, they have weight and a precise meaning, they convey emotions, so I like artists who use words.”

It dawns on me that Taylor’s light is shining at its brightest now as she highlights, celebrates, and - indeed - falls in love with all the versions of herself she has ever been. Revisiting her eras past again. And again. In every re-record. In every step she takes on stage. In every cutting line she writes in ruminating and revisiting the experiences of her life and translating them into song. She’s flitting, flirting, memorializing all her past selves in celebration of their summation of her current self. And that’s what this ‘era of eras’ has been.

So if this is De Sarno’s Gucci I say welcome. Ancora.

Photos by Monica Schipper/GA and Amy Sussman via Getty Images

#taylor swift #award #dress #gucci #january 2024

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seungrem · 1 year ago

Text

Dick Grayson x Male!reader

‘Confidential’ ~*+

Masterlist - Part 1 of ??

summary: When reader and a friend fall victim to a scheme in Gotham, a cute cop (if that’s what he really is) takes reader in for protection. Waiting for the mystery regarding his friend’s disappearance to be uncovered, reader insists on helping the cop.

( overview: college student!reader, cop?grayson, Alessio Falcone = made up character, kidnapping, hero-canon-typical violence, a murder attempt, protective custody, and police. basically a plot intro, Batfam & Red Hood cameos )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story & series - 5.1k words )

🧸 ( light fluff )

🫧 ( light angst )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Sunlight gleamed through the trees above as ☁️ sat alone at a table, his computer buzzing softly. A gentle breeze brushed against his hoodie, cooling the boy in this unusually hot spring air.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused ☁️ to jump, him then noticing a man standing opposite to where he sat. The man placed his brown satchel onto the seat as ☁️ lowered his computer screen.

“Hello, are you ☁️?”

“Hello-oh...”

☁️ lifted his gaze from his computer to the man, looking him up and down. He was tall and handsome with long dark hair and blue eyes. His muscular build was visible through his blue shirt and black jacket. The boy assumed he was simply another student- a hot one at that.

“Oh? Are you not..”

“No, no- sorry. I am, what’s up?”

“I’ve been looking for you. Do you mind if I join you for a sec?” The man’s tone was soft, and his voice not too deep.

“Sure.” ☁️ responded, motioning him to sit. As the stranger sat, the boy stared expectantly at him.

The man reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing a golden badge and briefly holding it in front of ☁️’s face. He quickly placed the badge back into his pocket and then looked around.

“My name is Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. I’m with the GCPD and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” He paused. “You’re best-friends with Alessio Falcone, right?”

☁️ huffed, annoyed.

“Not really. And you’re the fourth cop who’s come up to me since he went missing. I already told-”

“I only have two interviews on file. Who’s the third one?” Dick said, pulling a tan folder from his bag. He opened it, looking through the pages.

“Tim.. something. I forgot the last name.”

“Drake?”

“Probably.”

Dick cursed under his breath, placing the file on the table.

“I need you to go over the events of last Friday again. Give me every detail.”

“I have a paper to write.” ☁️ said, getting agitated. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention from Dick to his laptop. Dick swiped the laptop away with quickness, closing it, and then placing it into his bag.

“I need you to take this seriously.”

☁️ exhaled. “Alessio and I were only school friends. He’s impulsive and stubborn, and I would be very surprised if he was still alive after two days.”

“He’s a Falcone, after all. So you two were only school friends? Nothing more?”

“Is that not what I said?”

“Play nice or I’m taking this home.” Dick said, tapping his bag.

☁️ sighed, intertwining his fingers and placing his hand in his lap.

- 2 days ago -

Roaring past ☁️ and Alessio, two black vans turned the corner in front of them.

“We’re getting farther from campus. Let’s head back.” ☁️ suggested, looking around at the cloudy sky above. Alessio pretended not to hear him, the two continuing down the sidewalk and turning the corner. Upon turning, the sidewalk came to an abrupt end, with a long path of grass in its place. The two vans parked far in the distance, in front of a seemingly abandoned black barn.

“I wanna see what they’re up to.” Alessio pushed his long brown hair from out of his eyes, him then looking over to ☁️. Alessio wore his signature gray polo-shirt with straight black pants and black loafers, his style making his rich lifestyle particularly obvious.

“That’s an easy way to get killed. We’re still in Gotham.” ☁️ responded as he stopped. Alessio noticed, him doing the same.

“We don’t need to get super close, I just wanna see what they bring inside.” Alessio smiled, gesturing ☁️ to continue forward. His watch reflected the little sunlight that came from the sky as he did so.

Only a few blocks away from Gotham City University, Alessio and ☁️ continued through the grass. The two passed the buildings beside them, a small field of trees now standing in between them and the barn. The road turned into a dirt path, with many thick trees shading each side of it.

“Stay behind the trees.” ☁️ instructed as the two creeped through the mini-forest.

Getting close enough to see what the people from the vans were exporting into the building, ☁️ noticed that the barn was much larger than it appeared. Alessio and ☁️ watched as metal suitcases were carefully lifted and brought inside by a few people at a time.

“What do you think are in them?” Alessio asked in a low tone, keeping his gaze on the small group.

“Drugs, probably. We should head back now.”

“We still have 20 minutes until class.”

“That’s not what I mean. We’ve gotten too close, and it looks like they’re leaving soon.”

The small group of people walked outside, talking loudly amongst themselves. ☁️ could only make out a few phrases, like “..that guy’s a total creep..” and “..what do you think he’s doing with..”

Alessio crept toward a tree that was closer to the group, standing behind it as he listened. ☁️ peaked over at him every few seconds, obviously worried.

After a few minutes, the vans roared down the dirt road and back onto the main one. Alessio hurried back to ☁️, squatting down beside him.

“There’s something weird going on in there.”

“We can just call the cops. I’m not going in there.”

“Well, I am. Be my lookout.”

☁️ grabbed Alessio’s arm, holding it stiffly.

“Alessio, I will NOT go in there if anything happens. Please, let’s report it and go back.”

☁️ doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he does remember freaking out after waiting for 25 minutes. He sent the boy 6 messages, and his battery was getting low.

An hour passed, and the clouds were getting darker. ☁️ called the cops, explaining what he had seen and how his friend wasn’t responding. He power-walked his way back to campus as suggested by the dispatcher on the phone, where he met with an officer.

“What do you mean you’re not going in there?! He could be hurt!” ☁️’s eye twitched as another cop pulled to the curb beside the two. The first cop leaned against his car, filling out a packet on a clipboard.

“That property actually belongs to someone, despite it looking abandoned. I’m making your report now, and then we’ll request an emergency warrant.”

“How long will it take?”

“A few hours to a day. This number will give you call with any updates we have of your friend.”

The officer handed ☁️ a small card with a number on it as the second officer approached them.

“It’s being handled.” The first officer stated as he turned to the second, the two then looking at ☁️.

“I’m going to speak to him privately for a moment, we’ll be right back.” The second cop said.

☁️ stood still as the two walked over to the other side of the car. He tried his best to listen in on their conversation, but he once again could only recall certain parts.

“Another missing..” and “could be related to..” with “I know that the warrant … granted, but..”

The boy waited impatiently for them to return, figuring their conversation was referring to the three other students who had also gone missing over the past week. The news spread like wildfire on campus, but the topic quickly faded out of circulation. The paranoia, however, lingered behind.

The officers walked back to where ☁️ stood.

“I’m going to put this in asap, if you have any concerns call the number on the card or the non-emergency number.” The first officer said, him then getting into his car.

“I know this is a tough situation. Do you need a ride home?” The second officer asked, watching as ☁️ looked down and nodded.

- 2 days later -

“Did they give you an update on the warrant?” Dick continued writing on his small notepad.

“Yes, they said it was approved and that they would send their tactical team in tomorrow morning. I’m just worried that it’s too late.”

“I’m not sure why they waited so long considering there’s been another two students missing since.” Dick placed his head into his fist, clearly thinking out loud. “It’s not a coincidence.”

“Whatever creep is in there probably has my friend..” ☁️ paused, his mouth becoming dry and his head pounding. “Are we done? I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Have you slept since then?”

☁️ was taken aback by the question, but looked up with a monotone gaze, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.” Dick muttered, him then grabbing the computer from his bag and placing it in front of ☁️.

“No need to be. Is that all?”

“No.”

☁️ exhaled again, hoping to make the cop go away with a harsh tone. “What more do you want?”

“Can you show me where that barn is?”

☁️ gave him a glare, becoming suspicious.

“Are you sure you’re a cop?”

“I showed you my badge, didn’t I?”

“You seem too young.”

“I’m in my early twenties, same as you. I’m only a year or two older.”

“Right..” ☁️ glanced around him. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Do you wanna find your friend or not?”

“I’m stopping here. You can see it down that path and behind the trees.” ☁️ turned to Dick, who walked into the middle of the empty road.

“Thank you. I’ll try to investigate tonight.”

☁️ furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to come back and see if I can find anything.”

“Alone?”

“Probably not.”

“Can I come with?”

Dick turned to the boy.

“Absolutely not.”

“But you’re going.”

“I’m a cop.”

“I still don’t believe you.”

☁️ turned around and walked back around the corner. Dick followed closely behind, choosing to stay silent. As the two walked down the sidewalks in silence, they crossed the street to the GCU. ☁️ stopped as he stepped onto the stone path and turned to Dick.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?”

“Nope. I don’t need another student going missing.” He responded, looking around. “You shouldn’t be alone around campus, anymore. Let me walk you back to your dorm.”

“How’d you know I dormed?”

“I read the report before I came.”

“So you had me re-explain everything even though you knew?” ☁️ scowled at Dick, which seemingly amused him.

“I had to make sure your story matched up with what you told the cops.”

“Hm..”

☁️ took a few steps away from Dick.

“I think I’ll be fine walking alone, I’ll see you tonight.”

“☁️, I’m serious. I shouldn’t have told you-”

“I need to find my friend. Please.” ☁️ turned his back to Dick and motioned him to follow, the two continuing down the path.

“It would be easier to scan the area if you had more people helping.”

“I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is. We don’t know what ‘creeps’ are in there, if they’re affiliated with a crime boss or villain, how many there are, and if your friend is even still inside.” Dick hesitated, continuing, “..I’m going to tell you something confidential, can you promise to not tell anyone?”

☁️ turned to him and nodded, Dick beginning upon observing the gesture.

“Carmine Falcone is livid, and he’s been sending his guys to the area to retrieve his son. From what I’ve heard, his guys have been going missing too. It’s not just students getting picked off. Anybody who’s in the area is… and I’m very surprised nobody’s come to get you yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Considering you pretty much exposed the operation to the police, I expected whoever was behind it to get at you next. To keep you quiet or.. you know.. Which is partially why I’ve come today.”

“You’re confusing me.” ☁️ groaned as the two passed a small group of students. Waiting for the group to gain some distance, ☁️ continued.

“Who are you? Actually.”

“I’m a private investigator. Pretty much a cop.”

“And who hired you?”

“Confidential.”

“Then I guess our conversation ends here. My dorm is down the block. If you find anything, please fine me again.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask for your number. For professional purposes, of course.”

“Oh, sure.” ☁️ smirked, taking Dick’s phone. After typing his number in, he handed the device back.

“Thanks.”

☁️ nodded, walking off. He felt Dick continue behind him, causing the boy to turn around.

“I told you I was fine from here.”

“I know, I just need to go back with you.”

“What? Why?”

“Precautionary measures.”

“For?”

“We’ll see.”

“Dick, I don’t think you need to-”

“I expect someone to be in your dorm. That’s why I insist on going with.”

“You mean my roommate?”

“Don’t you have your own room?”

“How do you know that?”

“Private investigator.”

☁️ huffed and nodded, turning around the corner toward a large beige building of gothic architecture. Dick walked in front of ☁️, opening the glass doors and waiting for him to step through. ☁️ smiled at the gesture, whispering his thanks to the man. Pulling out his student ID from his backpack, ☁️ approached the front desk with Dick not too far behind.

“Hello, this man is another cop. He’s going to inspect my room quickly.”

☁️ watched as Dick took his badge from out of his jacket pocket. He held it over the desk for the front desk lady to see, her then nodding in understanding.

“No problem, I’m just going to need to scan his ID.”

Dick pulled out his ID from his jean pocket, sliding it over to the lady. She took it and placed it over a small black box, it beeping only a second later. She handed the ID to Dick and smiled.

“All good.”

“Thanks.” Dick smiled, following ☁️ across the lobby and to the elevators. Their shoes tapped against the marble floors, ☁️ watching Dick look around from over his shoulder. The two stopped in front of the elevators as ☁️ tapped the button.

“Have you ever been inside this place?” ☁️ asked, Dick continuing to look around.

“Once when I was younger, so it’s been a while. My adopted dad went here and contributes to the school pretty often.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” ☁️ responded. The elevator beeped and opened, the two stepping inside.

The ride was quiet, with ☁️ keeping an eye on Dick. Dick noticed, breaking the silence as they finally had reached the sixth floor.

“Still don’t trust me?”

“That’s right.”

The two strolled down the hall, ☁️ recognizing a classmate he was friends with.

“☁️, hey!” She said, walking up to the two guys.

“Ah, hey. How’re you?”

“Good, how’re you? And who’s this cutie?” She whispered the last question, leaning into ☁️ while looking at Dick. Dick looked away as the two quickly conversed.

“Nobody, he’s just taking a quick look at my room.” He whispered back. The friend gave him a suggestive smirk, which made ☁️ shake his head.

“It’s not like that, he’s a cop.”

“How’d you pull a cop?”

“He’s just so full of charm.” Dick said sarcastically, nudging at ☁️’s arm. Though confused, ☁️ and his friend waved goodbye to each other as they parted ways. Dick and ☁️ continued down the hallway, Dick still gripping the boy’s arm.

“You don’t have to hold my arm anymore.”

“You pulled a cop, remember? Take responsibility.” Dick teased, though the boy smiled and rolled his eyes in response. He pulled away from Dick as he arrived to his door toward the end of the hallway.

“Here we are.” ☁️ said softly, grabbing his keycard from his backpack pocket. As he was about to slide it into the door lock, Dick stopped him.

“Wait, here’re the rules. I walk in first, and you stay three steps behind me. If someone’s in there, just stay back. I’ll take care of them.” Dick whispered, leaning into ☁️.

“You’re awfully confident. And paranoid.” ☁️ whispered back.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.”

☁️ blinked at the comment, ultimately ignoring it. He placed his card into the lock, allowing Dick step in first. ☁️ followed around three feet behind as the two tiptoed into the room. Dick placed his bag down, him then quickly opening the closet in the hallway, with nothing but a few pairs of shoes and jackets inside. He continued slowly, stopping in front of the bathroom door to the right- it slightly ajar. As Dick was about to push it open, a man jumped out and tackled him to the floor. ☁️ fell back in shock, crawling backwards.

Dick used his legs to toss the man off and behind him, quickly standing up. The man did the same, repeatedly lunging at Dick with a shiny object in his hand. Dick smoothly dodged the attacks, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling it, Dick then kneeing him in the stomach. With a swift punch to the temple, the man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Dick hurried back to ☁️, helping him stand up. He looked back, then holding his hand to his lips to keep him quiet. The two continued down the hallway into the tiny kitchen, there luckily being nobody there. Opening the last door down the hall, Dick walked into ☁️’s bedroom. ☁️ remained outside, staring at the unconscious man on the other side of the hall. He turned his attention back to Dick, who looked through his closet and then under his bed. Upon giving the ‘okay,’ he walked back over to ☁️.

“They only sent one goon. That’s rare.” Dick muttered before walking down the hall. ☁️ followed slowly behind him.

“I’m not gonna say I told you so. But..”

“I know, I know. Thank you.”

Dick nodded, walking into the bathroom and turning the light on. ☁️ waited outside again, Dick carrying a duffle bag out only a few seconds later.

“Assuming this isn’t yours?” Dick asked, ☁️ whispering a ‘no.’ He placed the bag beside the man on the floor, Dick then going through his satchel. The man on the floor now had an extremely apparent bruise on his temple, directly under his receding hairline. He wore a plain white tee with a few dirt marks on it, along with dark green cargo pants and big black boots.

Dick hurried to dig through his bag, him pulling a pair of handcuffs out and pushing the guy onto his stomach, handcuffing him. He then checked the guy’s pockets, finding an old smartphone and a walkie talkie. Dick placed both objects into his bag before turning to ☁️.

“Hurry and pack your stuff. You can’t stay here for a while.”

Dick had called the cops to take the intruder away as ☁️ followed the small group outside. The officers and Dick carried the man into a cop car, while ☁️ waited outside with a suitcase and his backpack.

Dick walked back to him, a pitiful expression across his face.

“I’m sorry that it has to be like this. It’ll only be until I crack this case.”

“I understand, but where am I going to go?”

“Do you have family in Gotham?”

“If I did I wouldn’t be dorming.”

“Oh, right… Wanna stay with me?”

“Not sure that I’d feel much safer with a mysterious private investigator.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a family full of them. I also already told the officers that you said you would.”

☁️ pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh don’t give me that look. My family’s very nice.”

“I have no doubt about that. I just don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Oh stop, I’m inviting you.”

☁️ nodded. “Does this mean I can go with you tonight?”

“Still no. I have to make a few calls, just follow behind me.”

The two conversed as they continued through the campus, ☁️ trying to get some information out of Dick.

“So, do you know the cop I spoke to last night? Tim-something?”

“Yes, but it’s complicated.”

“How so?” ☁️ asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not his actual name, and he’s my brother. He uses our other brother’s name when he’s out.”

“That’s.. odd. Is your name actually Richard, then?”

“Yes, I don’t do that. Only they do.”

☁️ nodded in understanding. Dick continued.

“You’re going to love my little brothers. Tim is a genius and the most considerate boy I know. And Damien is very kind-spirited- he’s outspoken and also very observant. You met Jason, already. He’s just a big teddy bear, honestly.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow at the last comment as Dick continued.

“I have other siblings, but they aren’t staying with us at the moment.”

“The Jason I met was big and scary..”

“That’s just ‘cause he’s working. He’s a softie, and he’ll make you laugh a lot when he’s not out.”

☁️ didn’t necessarily believe him, as the Jason he met yesterday was very straightforward with a somewhat aggressive tone.

“Right..”

After that, the conversation ended and the walk was silent once again. The silence didn’t last long, as Dick kept peering over to ☁️.

“So.. since we’re being honest with each other.. Is Alessio really your friend?”

“Yes, we met last semester. I thought that he was an asshole until we worked together on a project. He’s a lot nicer than people say.”

“So you aren’t dating?”

☁️ looked over to Dick, his eye twitching.

“This is the second time you’ve suggested that. What makes you think we’re together?”

“Mm.. just wondering.”

“Did you wanna take me out or something?” ☁️ asked, sarcastically. He smiled and turned to Dick.

“Maybe.”

“Wait, really?”

“You pulled a cop, remember?”

“How long are you gonna hold that against me?”

“Dunno.” Dick shrugged. Now, he was the one to grin at the man next to him.

A black SUV pulled beside Dick and ☁️ in the campus’s parking lot. Dick leaned against his motorcycle, still on the phone. Though ☁️ tried his best not to eavesdrop, Dick had called a man named Alfred to pick him up. Then, he called someone named Bruce, explaining ☁️’s situation in soft whispers. Now, he was on the phone with Jason, who seemed to be giving Dick a hard time. ☁️ only heard bits of the conversation.

An older man got out of the black SUV and opened the trunk, Dick gesturing for ☁️ to walk over to him.

“Hello, Mr. ☁️, right?”

“Yes, hello.” ☁️ said, watching the man take his suitcase and gently place it into the vehicle.

“What’s your name?”

“Please call me Alfred.”

☁️ nodded, watching as Alfred walked past him and opened the backseat door. He pointed inside, ☁️ saying a ‘thank you’ and stepping inside with his backpack around his shoulder. Alfred closed the door, approaching Dick as he hung up the phone. The two conversed for a few seconds before Alfred walked back alone, stepping into the vehicle.

“Master Dick has some errands to run before he joins you at the manor. He should be back shortly after you arrive.” Alfred explained as he started the car engine.

“Okay.” ☁️ said dully, watching out of the window as Dick sped away on his motorcycle.

—

Alfred and ☁️ conversed for the entirety of the ride, with the boy explaining his peculiar situation. After a few minutes, the vehicle pulled up to a set off tall, black gate doors. The estate fencing spread far down the road, with a sharp point on each post top- the bottom end going through lined brick along the ground.

Alfred pulled out his phone, the tall gate doors opening moments later. He turned his gaze to ☁️ in the rear-view mirror, ☁️ unintentionally returning the gaze as the man drove into the property. He drove down a stone path lined by large bushes before turning slightly, a mansion of brown and blacks now in view.

“Master Dick volunteered the manor as your safe house as opposed to a protective custody facility. There must be something very special about you, Mr. ☁️.”

☁️ felt as though his tone was rather suggestive, but nodded and smiled as Alfred parked the car.

The two got out, Alfred opening the trunk and grabbing ☁️’s suitcase. They then proceeded up the steps, with the door opening as soon as Alfred placed the suitcase back onto the ground. ☁️ peaked from behind him, seeing a tall man with black hair and a scar on lip in the doorframe. It was Tim- or rather- Jason, the cop who ☁️ spoke to yesterday.

“I’ll take it, Alfred.” Jason said, picking the suitcase up as if it weight nothing.

“Master Jason will take you to your room.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ turned from Alfred to Jason, who began walking into the manor and toward the double staircase. ☁️ followed closely behind, the size of the home making him feel small. The two walked up the left side of the staircase in silence. Upon reaching the top, Jason placed the suitcase down softly and turned to ☁️.

“Hi. I know we met before and it’s weird seeing me again. My name’s actually Jason, my brother is Tim-“

“I know, Dick told me about it.” ☁️ interrupted with a gentle tone, saving Jason the explanation.

“What else did he tell you?” Jason asked as he began down the hallway.

“You’re both private investigators. And that you’re a ‘big teddy bear’ apparently.”

Jason scoffed at the comment, a smirk forming on his face.

“Do you think I’m a ‘big teddy bear?’” Jason turned to him as he stopped at a door to his right. He pushed it open, dragging ☁️’s suitcase inside.

“More of just big.” ☁️ muttered, looking him up and down- Jason wearing a white shirt with wrinkled black jeans, his hair just as messy as it was yesterday. He was taller than Dick, but his muscles could be seen from his clothing just the same. Jason heard ☁️’s response and tried not to look offended.

“I mean in a.. muscular way..” ☁️ said, walking in front of him to look at the room.

“Wow..” Jason responded sarcastically.

The room was large with walls of maroon and gold accents. A wardrobe, dressers, a nightstand, and the bed frame were all a dark brown wood material. The ceiling was white, as were the window frames. Wooden flooring reflected a light brown, though it didn’t creak as ☁️ walked across it.

“This was my room, but I don’t mind you staying in it for a bit. The sheets are clean and the dresser next to the bed is empty, so you can put your clothes in it.”

“Where are you going to sleep, then?” ☁️ asked, turning to face him.

“The couch. I have my own place- I’ve just been staying here for the past few days to deal with.. y’know.. your case.”

“I don’t think I understand, but I don’t want to take your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” ☁️ said, grabbing his suitcase handle and dragging it toward the door. Jason stepped in front of him, blocking the doorway.

“I don’t mind. Unless you want to take Dick’s room. He’s got a thing for you, and if you don’t feel the same way, I think that’d be a little awkward.”

☁️ looked away from Jason, and smiled.

“I do, just a bit. He’s cute, but I barely know him.”

“He’s dated, like, three people in his entire life. I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

☁️ nodded as Jason moved out of his way.

“It’s the next door down. I’ll wash his sheets for you.”

“Thanks.”

Moonlight emitted through the room windows, illuminating the bed in which ☁️ sat on.

Dick’s room was comfortable and just as large as Jason’s. He visited ☁️ shortly after the boy arrived at the manor, obviously pleased to see the ☁️ in his bed. Not too long after, Alfred gave him a tour of the home, introducing him to the Wayne Manor. Both surprised and intimated to be in the Bruce Wayne’s house, ☁️ remained in the room to avoid meeting more of Dick’s family.

After falling asleep in Dick’s bed, it was now nighttime. ☁️ grabbed his phone from the nightstand, pulling up the man’s ‘Hey, this is Dick.’ message. He noticed that it was around 11pm as he began typing.

‘Hey, are you still going back there tonight?’

He placed the phone in his pocket and walked to the door, peaking out to make sure nobody was around. He silently wandered down the hallway and to the railing between the set of stairs, finding Alfred dusting the shelves below him. He walked down, watching as Alfred turned in his direction. ☁️ approached him.

“Hey Mr. Alfred. Do you know where Dick is?”

“I’m sorry, you missed him. Master Dick left an hour ago.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“He said it was ‘confidential.’”

☁️ furrowed his eyebrows, contemplating on whether or not Dick went back to that barn.

“Actually, Mr. ☁️, Master Dick informed me that you had hoped to join him tonight. He gave me specific orders to keep you inside- it seemed he did not want you leaving due to safety concerns.”

Annoyed, ☁️ pursed his lips. “Oh.. I understand. Thank you.”

Alfred nodded. “While you slept we had dinner, and I packed some food away for you. It’s in the fridge, please help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

☁️ nodded again, thanking Alfred as he walked down the hallway and toward the kitchen. Jason was in there, running around the island as he rushed passed ☁️. Upon realizing that ☁️ was behind him, he quickly turned back around.

“Hey ☁️, did Dick reach out to you in the past hour?”

☁️ shook his head. “Alfred basically said he left to the barn an hour ago.”

Jason nodded, about to turn around before ☁️ began grilling him.

“Why? Is he there? Is he okay?”

“..Confidential. I might have to head over there as well.” Jason said, not looking ☁️ in the eye.

“Why does everybody keep saying that to me? Take me with.”

“I can’t.”

“Jason, please. I want to help.”

“Help by not getting yourself killed.” Jason said, pulling out his phone as it buzzed. He read the words on the screen before looking up at ☁️.

“Actually, I’ll have a friend pick you up. Be ready in 10 mins. To avoid anybody seeing you, climb out the window and use the gutter to get to the ground. Walk across the garden and use the bird bath next to the gate to jump over it. Walk around and meet him in front of the entrance.”

“Gonna assume you’ve done that before?”

“Many times.” Jason said before smiling and rushing out of sight. A skeptical Alfred peaked from down the hall, forcing ☁️ to return to the kitchen. He grabbed a fruit and quickly ate it before walking back to his room. He threw on a black sweater and zipped it up, him then opening Dick’s window and climbing out. The night’s cool air brushed against ☁️’s face almost immediately, with the sounds of crickets and leaves swishing together filling the air.

‘I’m an idiot for doing this- trusting these people and going back to that place. But I really need to know what’s in there. I need to see it for myself.’ ☁️ thought to himself as he carefully slid down the gutter, trying to make his escape a silent one. He ran across the grass through a garden of large bushes and flowers, finding the bird bath Jason had mentioned. He climbed on top of it, leaning forward and grasping the side of a post’s sharp point. Leaning forward, he hoisted himself over the gate, barely grazing the posts’ sharp tips. ☁️ bracing for impact, he landed on his knees and elbows. He brushed himself off, and then ran along the gate. Cutting around the corner, he found a pair of glowing red eyes piercing through him. The Red Hood was waiting for him.

“Get on.” Red Hood instructed, his voice deep and synthetic.

☁️ hurried over to the motorcycle Red Hood sat on, holding onto his waist as the two sped off into the night.

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: i’ve been itching to do a dc fic :,) ik this isn’t usually what i write, but thx for giving it a chance ! <3

479 notes · View notes

apples4shoyo · 2 months ago

Text

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 - 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1

spiderman!shoyo x f!reader

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: shoyo is late to class, bruised at lunch, and weirdly good at saving your life mid-mall explosion. (you might be in love. he might be spider-man.)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs/ɴᴏᴛᴇs: HEAVILY based on the plot and characters of the sam raimi trilogy, theatrekid!reader, language, violence/blood, mentions of bullying, use of explosives, mild injury, panic/fear responses

link to masterlist

ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆

You’ve always considered Shoyo Hinata to be normal.

Well, as normal as he could be. He wasn’t exactly a straight-A student and his way of making conversation was…. questionable to say the least. But you didn’t consider these ‘quirks’ to be off-putting, definitely not enough for him to get pushed around as much as he does.

He’s just a little lost, is all. Like now; it’s already second period and there’s been no sign of the guy in any of his classes.

“This guy is seriously insane, I mean, I get he has ‘superpowers’ and all but you don’t need to be going around doing kick-flips and basically vandalizing a bunch of buildings so early in the morning.”

The complaint of the boy next to you stops your train of thought, you glance over to his laptop screen where a proud anchor woman interviews our city’s so–called ‘hero’.

“Hm? Spider-Man? Maybe. I think he’s kinda cute though, don’t you?” you tap your pen mindlessly, resting your chin on your palm as you keep watching the screen.

“I guess… you never know who’s behind that mask though, could be a total creep.”

“Y’know, despite what you say you don’t sound too opposed.” you tease.

“Ah- quit it! I’m just saying.. He might look strong, and- like, saving people, but…”

“It's alright, Tadashi. I get what you mean” you laugh slightly, giving him a look before turning your attention to the time and quickly gathering your stuff.

“You going?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve got somewhere to be, sorry” you stand up from the desk and pat his shoulder lightly. “See you later though, okay?”

“I- okay! Bye!”

You hear him call out behind you but your mind has already drifted away as you pull your phone out and head into the hallway. You put on your earphones and hum to yourself, getting lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the building exit.

The light breeze hitting your face once you get outside feels good, a nice addition to your daydreaming. The bright head of orange hair that seems to pop up at the best of times is definitely a better addition though.

“Hey! Why’re you so late, huh?” you question and he stops in his hurried tracks, turning to you with a twinge of pink dusted across his face. He looks around for a moment making sure that it is in fact him you’re accusing in your playful interrogation.

“Hey…! Uhm, overslept?” Shoyo blurts. He seems like he’s trying to convince himself more than you, but you’ve got no reason to disagree with his alibi.

“Nice turtleneck. Spidey fan?” you gesture to the famous web-patterned fabric poking out from under his uniform, and the dusting on his cheeks grows tenfold.

“Huh? Crap- yeah! big Spider-Man fan!”

“Right… well, you might wanna change. It looks kinda dorky” you laugh and he lets out a nervous huff, you swear he got even pinker.

“Noted! I’ll definitely take it off, yeah. Uhm, what class do you have next?” he fumbles with the strap of his bag and shuffles on his feet.

“Oh! I’m gonna go audition for the spring play, so I get to miss the next class or two.”

“You’re super talented so you’ll definitely get it!” he notices your surprised expression and immediately backtracks. “I mean-! I remember when you did Cinderella, you were awesome. And.. I'll definitely go watch this one, if you’re in it…”

“Thank you. but you realise that was second grade, right?” you can’t help the bubbly giggle that escapes your mouth as he tries to gather his next response. “I’ve gotta get going, you should too. Try not to be late again, by the way.”

“Right!”

One of the teachers scribble down a note. A student coughs in the back, and you can almost sense someone’s phone about to start ringing.

The silence is awkward and almost deafening, you hold your ground. Your palms are sweaty and you shift your weight slightly.

Your teacher lowers his clipboard. “You’ve been cast every year since tenth grade,” he states dryly and takes off his glasses. “You’re always good, but what makes this year different? Why do you think you deserve the lead?”

You hesitate, forcing a smile.

“Because I’ve grown. I’ve worked harder this year. I’m not just trying—I’m pushing myself. I know where I want to be, and I know that’s what I should be chasing.”

Your teacher raises an eyebrow, expression unreadable. He looks down and writes onto his clipboard.

“Very well.” he says in a monotone voice. “Callbacks will be posted outside the drama studio next week.”

You step off the stage, keeping your head high as you hear people murmur to their friends.

“Kinda dramatic… it’s not like the school needs charity from this play or anything”

“Didn’t Osborn’s dad sponsor the set design again?”

“Maybe. Rich people are weird.”

Shoyo went through his own day as normal; answer a few questions wrong in maths, think about you, get a nice spot at lunch where he can watch you with your friends, think about you some more…

Okay, maybe it was a little creepy, but can you blame the guy? You’re the girl next door, and pretty much the most popular girl in the 12th grade—and you happen to show him the least bit of attention? He'd be nuts if he said he wasn’t crazy about you- okay.

Not to mention, word got out that you recently broke things off with your super douche-bag boyfriend. So now might just be the time to strike.

Unfortunately for Shoyo, things were never that easy. He had a gift- or a burden- whatever works in this context. He had an anomaly, an anomaly that meant he had other responsibilities. With great anomalies come great responsibilities! Anyways.

Sadly, this anomaly had many times deprived him from your attention that he so longed for; missing out on a school field trip with you, or half of a conversation that might have been in science. Sometimes he wondered if devoting himself to the safety of others was really worth it all, but he’d like to think he could juggle both.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Shoyo stumbles through the crowded hallway—clutching his bag to his chest as he gets shoved around like a pinball.

He makes it back to his locker, taking note of the new absurdity scribbled so nicely in the middle of the metal door. As he grabs his books he tries to keep his head down, but the sight of you at your own locker just a couple lengths away makes him forget any worries he might have had.

You have a fake flower tucked behind your ear, he notices. Probably something you got at the audition. He should probably ask how it went. God, you’re pretty.

You turn and walk away, you catch up with your friend and shoyo can only gaze longingly after you. Moments like these where he managed to catch a glimpse of you so comfortable, so laid back... They made him realise that maybe things aren’t so bad after all.

“Ugh, do you have to be so vile?” You grimace as your friend squirts about half a bottle of ketchup on her burger.

The rest of the school day had gone by in a haze, and you decided you guys could use some time to talk over your auditions before heading home.

The food court felt alive with the buzz of people and the loud chatter of students, nothing felt out of the ordinary.

You almost didn’t hear the first scream.

It came from somewhere below you on the first floor, sharp and desperate. More screaming followed and you could see people scattering from the atrium like insects.

“What’s going on?” You stood up, peering over the railing. You didn’t see anything until—

BOOM.

The screams intensify, some cut short as debris and dust detonates throughout the mall. Your friends tug at your arm, trying to pull you towards the exit but you stand there frozen in shock as you watch the scene unfold.

You grip the railing, trying to peer through the nebula of rubble and catch a glimpse of what might have caused the destruction. The dust begins to settle and for a moment it goes quiet as a mechanical whirring fills the stunned silence.

In a flash of green and metal, it whizzes out from the wrecking. What appears to be a man dressed in green armor and a disgustingly evil mask swoops over the wreckage on his glider, laughing maniacally. He definitely succeeds in making an entrance.

You stare with your mouth agape, barely comprehending the situation as another explosion goes off and the floor breaks beneath you.

You scream. You’re falling down from 3 levels up and there’s no way you’d make it. You’ll never know if you got that role, you’ll never eat that chicken sandwich you had in the fridge. Your heart lurches in your chest—but something catches you.

It’s not the floor.

It’s a pair of arms.

If you screamed you probably couldn’t hear it over the sound of the wind and your jacket flapping wildly behind you.

A blur of red and blue is all you can see in front of you, along with the musky smell of sweat as you’re swung to safety. You stumble slightly as your feet touch the ground by a fire exit.

“You okay?” His voice is a bit muffled behind the mask, but in close proximity like this you can hear him perfectly.

You nod, letting go of him. “..You’re Spider-Man”

“Uh, yeah.” He tilts his head at you slightly. Another crash in the background quickly pulls him away quickly though, and you can barely call out or express your gratitude before he swings back into the destruction.

You’re left a bit dazed. It shouldn’t be that shocking, Spider-Man is a public figure, he saves a lot of people. Right? Doesn’t matter. You watch from a safe distance as he seems to effortlessly diffuse the situation—helping other people to safety and avoiding counter-actions from the green guy.

The way he moves is so graceful, like a gymnast. Spider-man is too cool.

“You fight like a gymnast,” Goblin sneers, circling the hero. “-but you bleed like a boy!”

Spider-man acts quickly, webbing a table from a collapsed kiosk and launching it at Goblin and his glider. The glider swerves, the table knocking Goblin off balance as he throws a hand grenade in Spider-Man’s direction.

The bomb lands, sending a blast of heat and metal fragments through the air as well as Spider-Man himself. He manages to shoot a web at a collapsed railing and catch himself before swinging full force at Goblin. As he lands on the glider, the villain anticipates his attack and throws a punch into the boy’s face with full force.

He can feel the blood from his busted lip leaking into his mask, but he perseveres. Spider-Man manages to stay on the glider and he throws a counter-punch. Goblin blocks his hit and the glider swerves, throwing the boy off balance as he plummets to the hard tile below.

Spider-man groans in pain, trying not to let himself be deterred as he stands up. His legs wobble, why was he feeling scared? He had fought a lot of bad guys before, not necessarily supervillains but plenty of hardcore thugs. In much worse environments than this, too. Despite all that, Green Goblin was taking the shit out of him. It felt like he was getting in his head, without even saying a word.

He pushes those thoughts away, braving himself into a protective stance as he thinks over his next move. He doesn’t get much of a chance as a high pitched beeping alerts him to look down. Crap.

The pumpkin bomb explodes, it sends him flying backwards and more debris shoots up into the air.

His back hits a pillar and for a moment the world slows. His eyes flutter and his head is spinning, he tries to regain some composure as Goblin swerves over on his glider.

The villain descends, stepping off his glider with a sharp clank of his metal boots to the tile flooring. He steps closer, snickering at the collapsed heap of red and blue that stands out prominently in the wreckage of smoke and destruction.

“Not quite the performance I was expecting from our city’s one and only Spider-Man..” Goblin taunts lowly, his voice mechanical and sinister behind the faceplate seemingly made for fear. “I was hoping for a real fight, but instead, here you are.. Hurt and weak like a squashed bug. I thought the spider was supposed to bite.”

Spider-Man huffs and props his arm up behind him, barely upright as he struggles to breathe through the ringing in his ears.

“You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that. But right now, you’re flailing in a world you don’t understand.” Goblin leans down to his level, the metallic mask reflects Spider-Man’s dazed expression as he heaves slightly. “You’re wasted on these people. They run when things get loud, they’d turn on you the second they felt doubt.”

“They’ll never thank you, Spider-Man. But I will.” he extends a hand gloved in more leafy green metal, fingers open in malicious offer. “Join me, Spider-Man. We can change this city. We can rule this city.”

Spider-Man heaves again, eyes fluttering behind the white mesh of his mask. “I’d rather die.”

He doesn’t know why he said it, really. It seemed like the Spider-Man thing to do. Goblin proceeded to start cackling loudly and step back onto his glider, so maybe it was a dumb thing to say to the first real supervillain you fight.

“Poor choice, bug-boy.” the glider starts whirring loudly, the breeze blowing over Spider-Man’s collapsed form and bringing him further back into consciousness. “I offered you a future, with power and purpose... But you’d rather break your bones for people who scream at the sight of you.”

Spider-Man can barely process the mocking voice of his emerald adversary as he looks up at Goblin. “...Yeah.” He murmurs dumbly, his head still spinning from the impact.

“Think it over. You’ll see things my way soon enough.”

Goblin almost threatens the boy, giving him a glare through the evil sneer of his mask before the glider makes a large swoop and shoots up through the shattered skylight.

The sirens wail in the distance and the headlights of ambulances in the dark pave the way for emergency crews to arrive. But Spider-Man is long gone.

The fluorescent light in the bathroom is dim, it buzzes softly. Shoyo leans over the sink, water dripping from his face in uneven trails. His mask lay discarded nearby, it’s stained and frayed at the edges from the explosion. His reflection stares back at him, pale and bruised and scared.

The sound of the TV is muffled through the wall—Natsu’s watching cartoons, something cheerful.

Shoyo touches his side and flinches, his ribs ache. There’s a smear of blood on the porcelain and he swipes at it quickly.

This isn’t a game anymore. That guy could’ve killed me.

He looks over at the mask. He hesitates.

She was there—he could’ve killed her.

His knuckles grip the sink tighter, the fear threatening to bubble up to the surface manifesting itself into determination.

I’ve never seen something like that. He wasn’t a mugger or an arsonist—this guy wants to destroy everything. For fun. He’s dangerous.

One more splash of water on his face. He dries his face with a towel and looks back up at the mirror.

If I’m gonna do this, I need to be smarter. Stronger. I need to be—

“—Spider-man.” he says to himself, like it’s the first time it’s ever meant something.

Shoyo picks up the discarded mask. He turns to the door, pausing. He takes one more look at his shaken appearance before flicking off the light.

A/N: HOLY COW!! how was that? I had so much fun writing this!! chapter 2 will hopefully be up soon, so stay tuned! drop me and ask to be added to the taglist!!

thanks to @bernardsbendystraws for spidey dividers :]

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omgfangirlland · 23 days ago

Note

I saw an edit video of Edna from incredible and now I want an Edna reader. If it's an Edna reader x MCU.. How do you feel it would go if reader is the daughter of Lex Luther? (I'm really starting to get obsessed with a Dad!Lex Luther.. Thanks to you). He's a great dad but reader wants her own path. She makes costume for both villain and heroes (kinda like leo zelinsky from marvel).

I think Edna reader would be better be in invincible.. They could really use a better outfit (the durability, designs or whatnot)..

Going to a baby baptism tomorrow, so I'm double posting today 🫠

When I first saw the show and reread the comics- all I could think when seeing Nolan's cape was Edna screaming

I'm giving you a DC x MCU x Incredible crossover btw

BUT let's start EARLIER.

Lex isn't given the womanizer persona Brucie has, he still seems to get women, but doesn't go out of his way to be a loose cannon- which is why he was so surprised when one of his few escapades yells from the crowd of the conference he was at, storms her way throught security and pushes a baby into his arms and throws a folder of documents.

He doesn't really register more beyond the fact that you're his baby, doesn't hear the lady call you a little demon, and sure as hell doesn't hear the reporters go crazy, all he sees is you, a baby. A baby that looks at him and frowns while babbling, like you're judging him.

He's smitten. And the cameras catch how he fights a smile and how his eyes tear up as he brings you to his chest, and despite pouting, you nuzzle closer. The internet goes crazy with the drama- mostly memeing about Luthor actually being a human and not a robot in disguise and how even baby you knew the man was rancid(the netizen's words, not mine)

Luthor doesn't care, he didn't care even then, when the first thing he did after craddling you to his chest was to turn his back to the crowd and leave the platform with a spring in his step, ignoring how his assistant scrambled to take the folder your mom left behind before running after him.

Man was on a mission- a new mission! And firstly- he sued for full custody, no visitation rights, and to make sure the woman didn't argue, he threw in a nice, one-time check. He was a father now- and he sure as hell isn't letting someone who essentially threw a baby lamb to a grown wolf.

But he soon understood why your mother called you a demon- he's never seen a baby throw a tantrum over a slightly off black jacket mixed with true black pants. Honestly, he enjoyed letting you dress him. He enjoyed talking to you, like you understood it all, and maybe you did, but he wouldn't get just how much you got until you started talking.

Now, Superman got nervous- for the baby but also because Lex hasn't done anything in a hot while. When he visited the man, Lex just threw him a glance from his seat at his office desk before turning back to you in your high chair with a huff and continued feeding you. "My daughter is more important than you, Superman. Get off your high horse."

You just squinted at the Kryptonian, judging his bright, clashing colors. And Clark pouted, not because Lex was busy with his kid now, but because he's never seen a baby judge him like this. He, now, wants to be your favorite(only) uncle.

Lex refused, downright glared daggers at anyone who even suggested getting you a babysitter. Like EXCUSE YOU- he has two hands, a baby wrap, and can multitask, thank you very much. But I'm quite sure this need for you to be with him 24/7 stems from his deadbeat dad.

Lois is slightly more willing to interview Lex if she can hold you, and Brucie(before any robins) is the designated baby snatcher at every gala(despite how much Bruce may argue against it). Lex doesn't know how he does it- but Bruce always somehow gets you, sits in a quiet corner of the room, as close to his chest as possible, and judges and gossips with you about the others, Brucie persona gone.

"See Madame Cobblepot? She's hiding a drug lab in the basement of her manor in Gotham... and the mix of feathers with fur is so tacky." And you just babble in agreement. Lex would be more angry if it didn't keep you from being overwhelmed, fussy, and away from the eager hands of the old people itching to pinch your cheeks.

Your first, true word, not pa, ba, or da, is ugly as you point at Lex in a light green with purple and gold details mock suit, the tailor was clearly disappointed about, but didn't dare to say anything. "... I thought it looked nice...?" He was hurt for many reasons. You just give him a blank stare before sighing. "Ugly, papa."

Lex resigns to a deep forest green with a lilac flower embroidered modestly around his chest pocket. And if anyone asks, your first words were dada, and daddy.

He got his licks back after you called out Clark for wearing an ugly tie and suits three sizes too big. Brucie sadly didn't go unscathed as you clocked his Admiral blue pants and Azure blue jacket. Dick snorted while Bruce pouted, shoulders slumping in defeat. Richard was sitting on his lap, and little toddler you were sitting on the boy's lap, so Bruce wrapped his hands around both of you and squeezed gently, making both of you whine. "Mean children, both of you." His huff had no real bite to it.

The thing that turned you into a costume maker was seeing a compilation of heroes and villains tripping over their capes. That simply won't do. Not when you could do something about it.

Like you can give a pass to Superman and Batman, Clark's cape is essentially a shield and helps add to his friendly superhero bit, and Bruce's is a glider and helps him melt into the shadows, hell, even Doctor Strange's cape had a use. You could give them a pass... Barely.

(My cat left my lap because I shifted one millimeter while typing. I'm hurt and sad)

But others, like Mr. Magneto, Omni-Man, and Mr. Miracle, were just using them for flair, which you understood, but you couldn't have it. (You can't even look at Captain America and his Puerto Rican flag looking costume)You couldn't start with either of them, but your father was having a business in Gateway City, so your first victim client will be Wonder Woman.

Lex could only watch in shock, and a bit of pride as you talked to Wonder Woman, showing her your drawings of possible better costumes than the flashing hazard she usually wore. He was as mesmerized by your little designs as she was, all modern but clearly Amazonian inspired. It'll be more flexible, and it'll protect her legs and chest more. You even had a mood board for how she could style her hair.

Wonder Woman smiled at you after your explanation. "And do you think you're up for the challenge of doing it, little one?" And Lex was ready to build you an empire at the way your whole face shone while nodding at the superhero. But you could do it on your own... well, not right now, sadly, the tools were too heavy to weld the armor on your own.

By the following week, Wonder Woman had her new costume, moved better and faster in it, and after getting her feedback, you went and started plotting. In a month's time, everyone's weak points were exposed by a barely 10 years old girl on live TV.

"Omni-Man?"

"Someone stronger than him, for example Superman, could take hold of his cape and launch him into the sun, that is, if it doesn't rip. Overall, his costume is just fabric, and we know Viltrumites get hurt if they get hit by enough force. Superman or a deadly strong laser could easily take out his limbs to incapacitate him... or just decapitate him."

"What about Sonar?

"Minimal gear, hit the back of his knees or elbows to pop them out of their sockets, but I guess the biggest problem is getting close enough without him blowing your head- bullets wouldn't work either. Could just distract him by angering him so he'd be too adrenaline high and emotional to pay attention and have someone smash a rock into him from a safe distance. He wears pants and just a shirt... not much of an armor."

"...The new hero, Black Panther?"

"He gets punched a lot, unless the mask obscures his vision, I think it's a skill issue."

"And you'd be willing to make costumes for both Villains and Heroes?"

"Business is business."

The camera slowly moved to Lex, who was smiling and wiping away tears, the mics picking up him calling you his little business woman.

Your first client was Tony Stark. Frankly- he did it because he thought you were a funny kid. And he wanted to see if you saw any flaws or weak spots in his armor- which the latch not immediately opening on the shutdown of the suit was your first concern- but the man just wanted some new fancy, one of a kind, suits.

Your second was a very reluctant Magneto. He loved the cape. But you were right in it being a hazard, especially if it got caught in his own powers. The third was a frowning Nolan. He didn't appreciate you saying Superman could kill him- alas, he didn't get to say anything as you saw him and immediately showed him the designs you've made long before.

He won't tell you how much better it felt to punch, knee, or elbow now that he had reinforced joints and padded gloves. And he'd rather eat kryptonite than admit he flies better without the cape. But he did let Debbie teach him how to leave star reviews.

T'Challa's mask, in fact, was blinding his sides, and the Green Lanterns quickly used your plan of action in a desperate move to deal with Sonar.

Slowly, your business started blooming, and your father started whining more and more, begging just for a hint at the weaknesses in your costumes. "Dad, I love you. No." He just pouted and whined more.

However, your proudest work was the costume designed together with Kon, for purely sentimental reasons. It wasn't the best of the best design-wise, but it wasn't terrible either. You simply loved it because of how much fun your little brother had making it with you while making fun of your dad.

#anon ask #🔱 anon #fem!reader #dc crossover #dc x invincible #invincible crossover #female!reader #dc x marvel #marvel crossover #invincible x marvel #dc x marvel x invincible #good dad lex luthor

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skzstoryvault · 24 days ago

Text

A Cloud with Legs

Starring: Hyunjin Summary: One day when you were five, you met a boy who was drawing alone in the sand. Twenty years later, he decided all his drawings are for you. Warnings: sappy, sappy stuff. Tags: gender neutral reader, childhood best friends to lovers, teary reunion. clumsiness.

Note: A day will come when the courage of men fails - wait, no, hold up, Aragorn. I mean, a day will come when I can crank out my smutty stories again, but right now I am in my romantic phase and I fully blame one Hyunjin for it. I might write a couple more stories on the same topic, simply because it feels so good to imagine being close to Hyunjin as a friend, so close that it feels safe to move on to another kind of closer. Rating: 16+

Divider from: emojicombos.com/divider

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You met him in a garden, one of those early spring afternoons that smelled like possibility.

He was five. So were you.

It was someone else’s birthday party, full of sugar-smeared faces and loud music, but he’d wandered off, quiet and distant, to a patch of sun-dappled grass beneath a blooming camellia. He wasn’t playing. Just dragging a stick through the dirt, drawing something — a dragon, he said.

You sat beside him, knees knocking.

“It looks like a cloud with legs,” you told him honestly.

He’d blinked at you, then laughed — a startled, delighted sound that filled your whole chest. You didn’t know then what it meant, but something had clicked into place. You became his person. And he became yours.

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For years, you were the only one who knew how deeply he felt things. Not just sadness, but beauty. In shadows and stray cats. In dance. In art. In everything.

Other kids found him too intense. Too emotional. Too weird, sometimes. But not you. You made space for the parts of him that didn’t fit elsewhere. He gave you his trust in pieces—quiet conversations, shared snacks, doodles with your names entwined in the margins. You gave him your entire heart before you even knew what that meant.

By the time he was scouted, you were already part of his bones.

He almost didn’t audition. He told you he was scared. Of being seen too much. Of being loved for the wrong things.

But you said, “If they see even a part of you, they'll be lucky.”

So he went.

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And then it started.

You watched him disappear into the machine — the long nights, the aching limbs, the masks they made him wear.

You watched him debut.

Suddenly, Hyunjin belonged to everyone.

You watched fans fall in love with his face, his voice, the way he moved like silk and lightning. The world wanted him. Needed him. But as he got brighter, you saw something dim in his eyes.

He stopped texting back right away. Not out of neglect, but exhaustion. Or confusion.

He’d call you late, after schedules. You’d ask how he was.

“I’m okay,” he’d always say, too fast.

But then there were nights he didn’t hang up. He’d just breathe into the phone while you listened to the silence between his thoughts.

“I don’t know who I’m supposed to be,” he whispered once.

“You’re Hyunjin,” you’d answered. “And that’s enough.”

But still, you felt him slipping. Like a painting you couldn’t touch anymore.

And then—you left. School. Abroad. A chance you couldn’t say no to. He didn’t stop you. He didn’t cry. He just hugged you too tight and said, “Write to me.”

You did. At first. Then life happened. Weeks turned into months.

And without you, he hardened.

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He learned how to pose just right. How to smile when he felt hollow. How to nod through interviews and brush off invasive questions with laughter that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He had his members. They loved him — deeply, truly. But even they didn’t get to see the boy under the glamour. The one who cried at things he remembered. The one who danced not for applause, but because it was the only thing that ever made him feel real.

He told himself he was fine. Until the nights when he wasn't.

There were times he’d stare at the city skyline from his dorm room, lips parted like he might speak your name just to hear it in the dark. But he never did.

Instead, he painted you. In sketches. In dreams. Always just out of reach.

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And now — years later — you're back.

You’re older. Wiser, maybe. Looking more put together in cashmere turtlenecks and two piece suits. But still yourself. Still his in some impossible way.

You don’t plan on seeing him. It doesn’t seem fair. You’re not sure if he even thinks of you anymore.

But Seoul is small when fate has an agenda.

It happens on a gray afternoon in Hongdae. You’re tucked under a shop’s awning as a soft drizzle falls. Your umbrella broke. You're shivering. Late. Lost in thought.

And then— "…No."

The voice is hoarse. Familiar. A bit nasal. Your name, spoken like a prayer and a curse all at once.

You look up.

He’s standing there, across the narrow street, soaked and breathless. His hoodie clings to his frame. His lips are parted like he can’t believe you’re real.

And then he’s moving.

He doesn’t stop to speak. He just pulls you into his arms so fast, you barely catch your breath. His grip is desperate, full-body, crushing. You feel him tremble.

His face burrows into your neck. You hear it before you feel it — a broken sound, something like a sob strangled in his throat.

“Hyunjin,” you whisper, stunned, arms rising to hold him. He winces and snuffles into your shoulder. “So cruel! You hate me now?” “Sorry, sorry Jinnie. I thought… I’m no longer allowed that close.” You say, doubt in your voice.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t let go. He shakes his head like he’s trying to wake up and pulls you in even close, like he’s trying to hide you in his chest.

“I thought I was okay,” he says, voice muffled against your skin. “I thought I didn’t need you anymore. But I was wrong. I’ve been living without my heart.”

He pulls back, just enough to look at you. His eyes — still so full of light, even through tears — search your face like he's afraid you’ll vanish.

“I didn’t know how much I missed you until I saw you again. And now—now I can’t pretend anymore.”

Your breath hitches. You can’t find words.

“I know it’s crazy,” he says, voice shaking. “I’m... public now. Messy. I don’t even know what I’d ask of you. But I—God, I love you. I have. Since we were five.”

His chest rises and falls like he’s just leapt off a ledge.

“I don’t know if you love me back. Or if it’s worth it. But I had to tell you. Because not saying it hurts more than anything else ever could.”

You step closer. Your hand lifts to cup his jaw, damp with rain and tears. His eyes flutter shut under your touch.

“I never stopped,” you whisper.

His eyes open. And you’re close. So close your breath mingles.

Then — as if the years never happened — he kisses you.

Not carefully. Not politely.

But like a dam breaking.

Like finding home again.

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Later, in the quiet of his apartment, you lie tangled on his couch, limbs entwined. He brushes your hair back, kisses your collarbone like he’s writing his name there.

You ask if he’s afraid.

“Terrified,” he says, lips brushing your shoulder. “But if I lose you again, I won’t survive it.”

You look at him — really look.

And you say, “Then don’t.”

And he doesn’t.

Not ever again.

You don’t mean to stay the night.

You’re still in your rain-damp clothes. Still shaking from the kiss outside. Still unsure if this is real or some memory your heart conjured just to survive.

But Hyunjin won’t let go of your hand.

Not even when you step inside his apartment and instinctively move to take your shoes off. His fingers are still laced with yours like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks. He’s quieter now, the intensity of the street moment replaced by a soft, trembling kind of presence.

He sits on the couch beside you. Legs drawn up. Hair drying in wild waves around his face.

You expect him to say something poetic, something grand.

But instead, he whispers, “Can I—can I just… sit here with you?”

So you do.

You sit there, side by side in the quiet, your thighs touching. And you breathe. For the first time in a long time, it feels like enough.

Then, somewhere between midnight and dawn, the dam breaks.

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“I didn’t know how to be happy,” he says, voice rough from use and silence. “When you were gone, I mean.”

He turns his head, looks at you sideways. “They say I’m successful. That I’ve made it. And sometimes I believe them. But… most days, I feel like I’m performing even when I’m alone.”

You swallow hard. Your thumb traces the line of his knuckle. “You always gave too much of yourself away.”

“I didn’t know how else to survive it,” he admits.

You talk for hours like that — not rushing, not hiding. It’s like unwrapping wounds you both forgot you had. A slow, quiet unveiling of years spent misunderstood.

He tells you about crying in dressing rooms. About smiling through panic attacks. About pretending every fan’s love was enough to fill the hollow your absence left behind.

You tell him how empty the world felt without him in it. How no one else saw you, not really. How you’d stare at his pictures online and feel both proud and sick with longing, because the boy you knew was there, but caged. How, other times, you’d despair and tell yourself the Hyunjin you knew was gone, crushed in the fame machine.

At some point, he curls into you — his cheek pressed to your thigh as you sit cross-legged — and just breathes. His arms wrap around your waist like you’re the gravity that finally brought him back to earth.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he murmurs.

“You’re not.”

“But what if I mess this up?” he says, voice cracking. “What if I… damage you?”

You touch his hair, thread your fingers through the golden-brown strands still damp from earlier rain. “Then we figure it out. Slowly. Together.”

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By the time the sun starts to rise, neither of you have slept.

You’re both lying on the floor now, a blanket beneath you, limbs half-tangled, cheeks flushed from shared laughter and too many confessions.

He’s on his side, facing you, blinking slowly as the first light spills through the window.

“You’re still so beautiful,” he says, like it hurts. “Too beautiful, it messes with my mind.”

You laugh softly. “You’re one to talk. And still so, so dramatic.”

He hides his face in your arm with a groan. “You’re mean.”

“And you love it.”

“I do,” he admits, muffled. “God, I do.”

He lifts his head slowly. The light catches his face—his eyes swollen from emotion, lips chapped, hair a wild halo.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits, voice trembling. “I want to kiss you. I want to touch you. But I’m scared if I do it wrong, it’ll feel off and drive you away from me forever. And this... this is right. This is you.”

You lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, so gently it feels like a promise.

“You can’t do it wrong,” you whisper. “We have forever to get it right.”

That makes something in him break in the best way. His eyes fill again — soft, helpless tears — and he kisses you with the weight of all the years he couldn’t. His lips caress yours before his tears can stain your cheeks. It’s messy. A little awkward. Teeth bump. His hand fumbles at your jaw before settling, warm and trembling.

But it's perfect.

It’s real.

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You don’t rush.

You guide him gently. “Here,” you say, moving his hand. “Slower.” And he listens like he’s learning a sacred language.

There’s laughter, breathless and shy, when his hoodie gets stuck over his head and you help him tug it off, both of you grinning like kids again.

There’s reverence when he touches your bare skin for the first time, his fingers hesitant, his voice breaking: “You’re so soft. I—Is this okay?”

You nod. You kiss his knuckles. You tell him, “Everything about you is okay.”

He worships you with his whole body. Not out of lust alone — but devotion. The kind of love that’s patient. That doesn’t need to rush to the finish. The kind that just wants to be here. With you. Inside of the moment you’ve both waited a lifetime for.

And when you finally fit together, slow and clumsy, he breathes out your name like a prayer.

You don’t hide. There’s no darkness to tuck yourselves into.

The sun is up now — warm and golden, filling the apartment.

You make love in full daylight, everything visible, nothing veiled.

And afterward, your legs tangled together, your breaths syncing like waves, he strokes your spine with lazy fingers.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs.

“You do,” you say simply. “You always have.”

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You fall asleep like that — in the light, in each other’s arms, no lies left between you.

And when you wake, sometime mid-morning, Hyunjin is watching you with the softest smile.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Stay. Please.”

You press your forehead to his.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And you mean it.

Because this time, you’re home. And so is he.

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You notice it that morning — the shift.

Hyunjin has always moved with purpose, even in rest. But today, he’s fidgeting.

He’s dressed simply — soft oversized sweater, silver rings on his long fingers, hair pushed behind his ears. But he keeps adjusting things. Tugging at the hem of his sleeves. Bouncing his knee.

You’re sitting at his kitchen counter, sipping tea he made for you. His apartment still smells faintly like you. Like you two. The night still hums in the space between your bodies.

“Hyune,” you ask gently. “What is it?”

He stops pacing.

Then sighs. Runs both hands through his hair, eyes wide like a cornered cat.

“I want them to meet you.”

Your heart skips.

“Your members?” you ask, though you already know.

He nods. “They’re my family. And I—I want you to be part of that too.”

You stand, walk over. Place your hand over his chest. His heart is pounding.

“Then let’s go.”

He blinks. “Just like that?”

“You love me. I love you. They love you. I’m not scared.”

“But I am,” he says quietly. “Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and if they don’t like you, or they think we’re moving too fast, or—”

“Hyunjin,” you interrupt, cupping his jaw, “if they don’t like me, that’s their loss. But I know they will. Because I love you like they love you. And I know how much they mean to you. I’m not here to compete. I’m here to add.”

That silences him. Something in his throat moves. He swallows hard. And then he kisses you — brief, tender, forehead pressed to yours.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay. Let’s go.”

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The dorm is warm and loud even before you knock.

You hear voices — laughter, something clattering in the kitchen. And then the door swings open.

Lee Know stands there, a wooden spoon in hand. His eyebrow arches when he sees you.

You half expect a challenge.

But his mouth softens. “Oh,” he says. “So this is the one.”

You don’t have time to wonder what that means — because Hyunjin is already dragging you inside, fingers clenched tightly in yours like a lifeline.

“Guys,” he calls out, voice a little higher than usual. “Uh. Can I…? I need to introduce someone.”

They all come out.

Bang Chan, kind-eyed and already smiling. Han, who does a double take before grinning like he’s won a bet. Felix, who claps his hands and bounces on his toes. Seungmin, who squints at you like he’s assessing a museum piece. Changbin, who gives Hyunjin a look that’s 80% teasing and 20% something softer. And I.N, who just gasps and goes, “FINALLY. Well done, hyung.”

It’s overwhelming, but not in a bad way. Like walking into a room full of older brothers you didn’t know you had.

Hyunjin is visibly vibrating.

“I—this is…” he stammers. “They are mine.” Then winces. “I mean—my person. My—We’re a thing. We are the thing. From before. Since forever. I—”

You touch his back.

He exhales, steadies himself.

“I love them,” he finishes, quietly. “They’re the best part of my life. And I want them in this part, too.”

There’s a pause.

Then Bang Chan steps forward first. He holds out his hand, but there’s warmth in his eyes — deep, paternal.

“Welcome,” he says. “If Hyunjin trusts you, we trust you.”

Felix hugs you next, without asking. “He never shuts up about you. You were always a myth to us.”

Changbin laughs. “He once cried at dinner talking about how you made him soup when he had the flu in middle school. So yeah. We’ve all kinda been rooting for this.”

You laugh with them — but when you look at Hyunjin, he’s quiet again. Watching you, shoulders hunched, waiting.

You walk back to him. You take both his hands.

And in front of them all, you kiss his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His whole body softens. He turns his face into your palm and exhales. His friends see it too — the way you settle him, anchor him. Something unspoken passes between the members, a shared understanding.

Love like this? It's rare.

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Later, as everyone eats together and stories fly around the room, Hyunjin sits beside you, one hand always on you — your back, your knee, your hand under the table.

He leans in, lips brushing your temple.

“They like you,” he whispers.

“I like them.”

He smiles, eyes shining. “I feel… full. For the first time in years. Like all my worlds finally live in the same place.”

You kiss his jaw. “You’ve always deserved that.”

And in a room full of warmth, food, and found family, Hyunjin rests his head on your shoulder and breathes you in.

For once, nothing is missing.

He has his family.

He has his heart.

And he has you.

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟

It's after the dorm visit, after a quiet dinner back at his apartment where you both kept smiling for no reason other than this is real now. He’s different tonight — less fidgety, more solemn. Like something's been building in his chest, and he's finally ready to let it rise.

He disappears for a minute while you’re curled up on his couch, blanket around your legs, fingers cradling a warm mug. When he returns, he’s carrying a heavy leather sketchbook, and something even more fragile in his eyes.

“I’ve never shown anyone this,” he says, sitting beside you, holding it on his lap like it’s made of glass. “Not even the guys.”

Your heart slows with gravity. You reach out and rest your hand over his.

“I want to see.”

He opens it.

The first page is a pencil sketch of a figure in a garden. You know that moment — it's the birthday party where you met, five years old and barefoot, his curls wild and your cheeks sticky with icing.

“I don’t remember all the details,” he murmurs. “But I remember you smiled at me like I wasn’t too much.”

Page after page, he takes you through your own mythology — drawn from memory and longing. You see yourself at ten, at sixteen, laughing at something off-page. You see your own hands holding sunflowers, your eyes watching the sky. There are entire pages of nothing but your silhouette from behind — sitting, walking, waiting.

Each one aches with missing.

“I used to draw you when I was overseas, when I couldn’t sleep,” he says. “It was the only thing that made me feel like I hadn’t lost you completely.”

He flips to a page halfway through the book. It’s a messier drawing — charcoal and ink — a city street at night. He gestures at it.

“This,” he says, “was the night I wrote ‘So Good’.”

You blink.

“The viral hit song?”

He nods. “It was a bad week. Schedules were endless, I was exhausted, and... it hit me that if I bumped into you on the street, I might not even recognize you. That maybe you’d moved on, forgotten me. But I couldn’t bear the weight of that thought, so I tried to flip it. I imagined meeting you again. Just—randomly. No pain. Just... joy.”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes far away.

“I pictured grabbing your hand, dragging you all over town. Dessert cafés, weird fusion restaurants, trashy convenience store ramen. Trying everything. Laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to write that feeling. To pretend, even for three minutes, that life could be so good again.”

You feel tears build, thick and warm.

“And,” he adds, voice cracking, “I wanted Stay to feel it too. Even if I couldn’t have you, I wanted them to have happiness. I wanted someone, somewhere, to believe life could still surprise them with something sweet.”

You wipe your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Hyunjin... you gave all your joy away.”

He looks down, ashamed. “It was the only thing I had left.”

You set your mug aside and take the sketchbook from his lap. Set it gently on the table. Then you reach for him, both hands on either side of his face.

“You don’t have to give it away anymore. I’m here now. I want to build joy with you.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like surrender. Then buries his face against your neck, arms tight around your waist.

“I was so scared,” he whispers. “That I was too late. That I’d made art out of a ghost.”

You hold him. Rock him slightly, like you’re grounding him back into his body.

“I’m not a ghost,” you say. “I never left you. I was always carrying you too. In little memories. In songs I couldn’t listen to. In cities that didn’t have your laugh in them.”

He lifts his head. There’s something undone in his face, something new — not longing, but belonging.

“I wrote you into everything,” he says. “And now I want to write you into this. Into my present. Into my future.”

You lean in and kiss him — soft, slow, no ache this time.

And when you pull back, you say, “Then start now.”

He grabs a pencil from the floor, rips a fresh page from the back of the sketchbook, and without looking down, begins to sketch.

You laugh. “What are you doing?”

He grins.

“Drawing the first moment I ever believed I could be happy again.”

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You wake up tangled in the morning, in sheets that smell like warmth and cinnamon, to the softest version of Hyunjin — hoodie half-zipped, sleep lines on his cheek, hair a lazy waterfall of silk down his back. He’s standing by the window, phone in hand, humming to himself.

You rub your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late enough to be free,” he grins, and walks over, climbs into bed like it’s gravity pulling him back to you. “I cleared the day. No rehearsals. No shoots. Just us.”

“Us,” you repeat, sleep-drunk and smiling. “And what do we do with us?”

His eyes sparkle.

“We do the trip.”

You blink. “The—what?”

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The day starts with pastries from a tiny café in Seongsu — one with a lavender door and desserts that look like miniature art pieces. You each order something too sweet and unpronounceable and sit on the sidewalk curb like teenagers, knees bumping as powdered sugar drips onto your fingers.

Hyunjin feeds you a bite of his pastry, and you laugh so hard when the cream smears on your nose that you nearly choke. He kisses it off without a word, then giggles into your mouth like he can’t believe he’s allowed to do that now.

Next stop: coffee. But not just any coffee. Ridiculous, experimental ones — rose petal lattes, tiramisu espressos, iced black with lemon and glitter dust. You both pretend to be connoisseurs, rating them like wine.

“This one tastes like heartbreak at a perfume counter,” you say, after a sip.

“This one is what regret would drink if it was glamorous,” Hyunjin declares, swishing it like a sommelier.

You make each other laugh so hard, the barista gives you two extra biscotti on the house and mutters, “Just for being cute.”

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As the sun starts to lower, you wander into a side street and find a tiny food cart with steaming tteokbokki. The ajumma running it recognizes Hyunjin almost instantly — eyes widening, hand flying to her mouth — but then she spots you beside him, and something in her expression shifts.

She says nothing, only gives him the biggest serving.

He thanks her with a low bow, then turns to you, holding out chopsticks like a prize. “The final boss,” he says solemnly. “Spicy, messy, no napkins.”

You grin. “You’re on.”

You eat standing, laughing between bites, sauce on your lips, your fingers red and sticky, his hoodie cuff somehow stained. And still — he’s never looked happier.

People pass by. Some double-take. A few recognize him. One girl whispers, “Hyunjin?” in awe. He gives a polite nod, but his eyes are only on you.

“Does it bother you?” he asks later, when you’re walking along the river, shoes in hand.

You look at him. The face people worship, softened now by the golden blur of sunset.

“Being seen with you?” you ask. “Not even a little.”

He stops walking.

You stop with him.

“I used to dream about this day,” he says. “And it always ended bittersweet. I’d imagine it perfectly — then remember I’d wake up alone. That it wasn’t real.”

You step closer.

“It is now.”

“I know,” he breathes, and takes your face in his hands like a man anchoring himself to something holy. “But every time I look at you, I still have to fight the instinct to memorize you. Like I’ll blink and lose it all again.”

You touch his chest. His heartbeat is fast.

“Then memorize me,” you say. “But only so you can tell me all the details when we’re eighty.”

He laughs. It cracks through him — bright and reckless.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmurs.

“And you’re overdue for everything good.”

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!──★ ˙🍓 ̟

Later, the moon is up, and the streets are quieter. You lie side by side on a picnic blanket you picked up impulsively, under fairy lights in a hidden park neither of you had ever noticed before.

Hyunjin’s hand finds yours.

“I spent years trying to write joy from pain,” he says softly. “But this… this is what joy actually feels like.”

You nod.

“Messy. Loud. Sweet. Shared.”

He turns on his side, props his head on his hand.

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“When it stops being new… when the sparkle fades and we’re just two people arguing about laundry… promise me we’ll still do this sometimes.”

“This?”

“This,” he says. “Food and laughter and streetlights. Kisses with sauce still on our lips. Choosing sweetness. Even when we’re tired. Especially then.”

You lean in and kiss him.

He tastes like sticky sugar and spiced glaze and the kind of forever you don’t need to write songs about — because you’re living it.

“I promise.”

°°°end°°°

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