#i just want everyone to know what a coloring flex this is.... this whole scene was just shades of blue when i got my hands on her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bontenten · 3 years

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The Choosing

Pairing: Daichi x f!reader (ft. Captain Squad <3 and Sakusa)

WC: 3.2k

Genre/Warnings: Crack/Bad Humor, Smut, Romance, Reverse Harem, Royalty AU!, mention or hints of size kink, exhibitionism, creampie, breeding kink, dick and ball worship, you’re perverted and gross

Summary: You are the Princess of the Kingdom of YoreNaym and you need to choose a husband.

Repost from my main because I say so. Lee... :gru: i miss u

Also, no beta we die like Daichi.

It’s a tradition carried through many, many generations that the daughters of nobility from the Kingdom of YoreNaym must choose a suitor from the eligible bachelors from the neighboring kingdoms. It’s a show of kinship to the other kingdoms and also a means of securing peace.

At some point, everyone’s sister’s cousin’s second uncle’s sworn brother’s adopted daughter’s nephew twice-removed will be related and connect back to the Kingdom of YoreNaym. In short, the blood of this kingdom’s daughters unite the lands. No incest, there’s enough genetic diversity, if you will. And because you are also a princess of this kingdom, it’s your turn. Yay.

While growing up, you hear the elders say that the youngsters should be grateful that they have the agency to at least pick a suitor. They spin their looms and cackle, reminiscing that, “Back in our days, we didn’t get to have a choice. Our elders appointed a spouse for us from whichever kingdom had a suitor. Unlike you girls who get to choose, ungrateful wenches…”

Does it really matter? It’s just the false pretense of choice, isn’t it? At the end of the day the selection of eligible bachelors are all chosen ahead of time, deemed worthy, and then after the initial picking, you are just allowed to pick. It doesn’t matter who you choose, any one of them will fit the criteria. Maybe you’ll just close your eyes and pick one randomly. Can you actually say, “I’ll choose my own hand and marry myself.”

That’s pretty brave, hell yea that’s a main character move right there. Speaking of which, who are the eligible bachelors you can choose from today? It’s practically your engagement day, yet you really haven’t been paying any attention at all.

“Hey,” you whisper, lifting the curtain of the palanquin. A maid quickly answers to your beckon.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Who are the candidates today again? You have a...list or brochure of sorts?”

“Just a moment, my lady, I’ll retrieve the scroll for you.”

You open the scroll and peruse the contents. Huh, all the neighboring kingdoms are going all out this year. There’s the Kingdoms of Nekoma, Inarizaki, Fukurodani, Aoba Johsai, Shiratorizawa...Wow, even Johzenji and Nohebi have candidates? Funny, all of these are all presenting their crown princes too. As they should, you are the most beloved princess of the Kingdom of YoreNaym, and the suitor you choose will bring you back as a blessing to his kingdom. It’s a total bummer that the Kingdom of Itachiyama isn’t participating this year. Sakusa’s crown prince succession is next year! You have heard so many swoon worthy stories about that princeling, even paid handsome amounts of money for paparazzi paintings of the beautiful man. No one will find out that the princess of YoreNaym actually hoards little pictures of Prince Sakusa in her panties drawers. It’s a shame you aren’t picking your husband next year.

There’s one more Kingdom on the list that surprises you. Kingdom of Karasuno, or more commonly referred to as the Kingdom of “Fallen Crows”. According to legends, they used to be quite a prosperous kingdom, but after a few generations of inept leadership, a drought, and poor trade economy...the Kingdom has mostly faded into obscurity. It’s been years since a suitor candidate has been offered. So who is it?

“Sawamura Daichi,” you whisper to yourself, “Interesting.”

The festival ground outdoors is especially grand. There are a huge number of tables prepared off to the side for guests. Trays of food, fruits and wine are provided for every single guest in attendance. You are led by the attendants to the temporary throne seat as the guest of honor. As you make your way to the throne, all the guests stand up to acknowledge your entrance. It’s so pressuring and a part of you wishes you can just dig a hole and bury yourself on the spot. You don’t even want to think about how many eyes are on you. They are all just jealous because, really. Take my word for it, I’m the narrator.

When you take a seat, the guests reseat themselves. A shaman comes to the center stage and bows to you.

“My lady, the time is auspicious, let us commence the Festival of Unity. At this time, I’ll be introducing the eligible bachelors from neighboring kingdoms near and far. They have passed the arduous tests and come as the best to offer in asking for your hand. Each of the suitors will present to you with a talent or skill, as to show you their excellence. After the demonstrations, you will be allowed to take your pick. Whereupon you will—”

“Okay, I get it! They will participate in a talent show, we clap, and I choose a husband, I got it!” You snap, cutting the shaman’s words off. Your patience is wearing thin.

A number of guests can be heard mumbling in the crowds, probably commenting on your behavior. Your eyes scan the guests, you can care less. Judgmental eyes, scheming eyes, lecherous eyes, disgusting eyes....Your gaze meeting with a pair of eyes that are absolutely blank. Wait, not blank as in emotionless. Non-judgemental? The opposite of unkind? Dare you say, polite? He gives you a smile and returns to taking a sip from his goblet. You scan his clothing up and down to look for his family crest. Black and orange. A crow. Karasuno.

Your thoughts are jumbled as an increasing amount of questions fill your mind. He? Karasuno? That Kingdom of Fallen Crows? You barely hear the shaman announce the first candidate.

“Bokuto Koutarou from Kingdom of Fukurodani.” Bokuto is a very large, very well built man. He is wearing his family crest of an owl across his back proudly. You can tell his chest is incredibly broad, the bulge of his big tiddies stretch the tight shirt he’s in. If you squint hard enough, you can maybe see the outline of his nipples through the training shirt, but maybe that’s just your perverted imagination too. Bokuto comes to the center stage and greets you.

“Hey! I’ll uh, demonstrate my strength to you, my lady.” He easily picks up a huge hunk of metal and lifts it with ease above his head. Damn beefiness, those arms of his. Seeing the bulges flex when he flexes has you dreaming of mouth along that delicious flesh. And when he pins you down under his massive body? Ooh, if this is the first demonstration, you’re excited to see the whole lineup today. Gasps and murmurs can be heard in the crowd. Bokuto grins and drops the load on the ground. You can almost feel the tremors beneath your feet. Truly, a herculean feat.

“Thank you, Bokuto, I have seen your demonstration and all those here are witnesses.”

Bokuto’s demonstration is a showy start of the competition for your hand. The shaman announces the next candidate. “Ushijima Wakatoshi from the Kingdom of Shiratorizawa.”

Ushijima walks up to the stage exuding the regal aura of nobility; a byproduct of his strict upbringing. The twin crests of an eagle decorate his shoulder pads. His expression is quite cold, but there’s a saying, “it’s always the quiet ones.” You lick your lips and study him some more.

“Greeting to the princess,” he says with a deep bow. “I also bring a demonstration of my martial prowess.” Ushijima takes off the bow and quiver of arrows from his back and nods at his attendant who then catapults three apples high up into the air. Everyone’s eyes follow the trajectory of the objects, squinting to see what’s happening. No way.

Ushijima draws the bow back and calmly shoots one arrow, perfectly spearing the three fruits along the shaft. The crowd bursts into cheers. You also find your tight grip on armrest loosening, the tension from the scene dissipating in a moment. Ushijima’s calmness, accuracy, decision-making...he would make a very suitable partner for sure. Co-workers of sorts, that is.

You know your marriage carries a lot of weight politically and the fate of the whole universe will rest on your decision. Maybe not the whole universe, but close enough. But, marital bliss is important too right? Is Ushijima the right choice? There are still many more candidates, it’ll be best not to make a rash decision. Your gaze wanders over back to the Karasuno prince who is clapping earnestly for Ushijima’s performance. He’s acknowledging a rival’s strength, you think to yourself. Well, that’s certainly a rare but admirable trait. A confident man, he is.

After Ushijima’s demonstration, Oikawa Tooru’s enchanting musical performance offers a much desired change of pace. The rhythm and melody from his zither carries both the energy of fortitude as well as a graceful spirit. Quite stunning, but just not quite the musical vibe you’re feeling at the moment. Bummer, maybe a different day, really. Could be friends?

Kuroo Tetsurou from the Kingdom of Nekoma offers a particularly memorable performance too. Kuroo comes to the center stage with a trough filled with flames. Everyone is at a loss as to what is going on. Kuroo flashes you a grin before taking out a few pouches containing some powders. In a poof, the flames burst alive with colors blending blues and purples. And moments later yellows and greens, even reds. No one has ever seen fire change color like so.

“Witchcraft!” someone gasps.

“No it must be alchemy. Dangerous craft,” another adds.

Kuroo bows to you. “My lady, this is called chemistry, a discipline of science.”

Kuroo’s smiles teeter on the edge of flirtations and you cannot deny that your heart flutters just slightly when you see his crooked grin. He’s intelligent, humorous, and attractive. Definitely also a contender. A union with him might be fun. And especially when you see Kuroo run a hand through his messy, black locks and give you a piercing gaze, you almost wonder if this is the feeling of chemistry. It feels like you are naked under his seductive, golden eyes, completely submitted to his will and absolutely drugged. And you fear that if he sends you another one of his grins, you’ll come untouched. Dangerous, send him off immediately.

“Thank you, Kuroo, I have seen your demonstration and all those here are witnesses.”

After Kuroo, many more candidates also come to the center stage for their demonstrations. Kita Shinsuke from the Kingdom of Inarizaki composes and recites poetry on the spot. His literary talents and mastery of public speech move a very large crowd of the literati officials. Kita is a charismatic leader and commands confidence. But he doesn’t seem to be the best fit. Your brain says ‘yes’, but your coochie just isn’t feeling it. The nerve signals say no.

Terushima Yuuji demonstrates a one-man comedy show, but his storytelling skills, although humorous, fall just a little short after Kita’s. Had Terushima been slotted for a different position, perhaps he would make a stronger impact.

Daishou Suguru. Interesting. But tongue itself will eventually get boring too.

A few more candidates demonstrate their talents to you. Most of them fail to impress you at all. Your blank expression is more than enough to make a few almost shit their pants or cry on the way they exit the stage. It’s really not their fault, you’re just a bit tired after seeing so many performances and demonstrations. You are just trying to find the best fit after all. It’s your duty and responsibility as the muthereffing princess of the Kingdom of YoreNaym.

“Sawamura Daichi from the Kingdom of Karasuno.”

The crowd is silent as Daichi stands up from his seat and makes his way to the center. His shoulder is relaxed and his head is held high. He doesn’t have the large build of Bokuto nor is he decked out in regal fabrics like Ushijima. His hair is simple and clean. His expression is polite and pleasant. Amongst the sea of beautiful and talented men, Daichi is like an ordinary seashell buried in the sand. But like how too many bites of dessert beckon the simplicity of water, Daichi’s humble presence makes him stand out in particular.

Daichi bows deeply. “I send my deepest regards to the princess. I am Sawamura Daichi from the Kingdom of Karasuno.”

“Please rise, Sawamura. What demonstration do you bring to me today?”

“My lady, I have nothing showy in particular. I only bring myself. And please feel free to call me Daichi.” You can feel his piercing gaze on you, confident and assertive. So he has some guts. It beckons you to submit, but you bite back. Grrrrr.

“Just yourself? That’s quite cocky of you Daichi. Others bring talents and demonstrations of qualities that make them fit as my suitor. What do you have to offer for me to choose you? Or is that something you are not looking for at all?”

“Karasuno,” Daichi begins, “Karasuno is a good kingdom. For many years long ago, our people have suffered greatly and we have gained a poor moniker. However, for the last few years, the kingdom has made significant progress and improvements. Alongside my brethren and officers of my court,” Daichi gestures to his entourage sitting off to the side, “We have come a long way. ”

“You tell me much about your home, Daichi, but what about you?”

Daichi pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. He is well aware of the pressures you are putting on him, testing his convictions to the limit. You are a princess after all, so it’s only natural that you test his qualifications. Diachi swallows his nerves and faces your confrontation head on.

“I come to tell you the truth, my lady. I cannot hide these facts about myself or my kingdom. I am truthful, honest, but I have an unshaken belief that my kingdom will prosper because I have my closest and trusted with me. Each of them have their talents and strengths. Karasuno is a band with a bit of everything, and we’re family.”

You inwardly sigh. It seems like Daichi won’t be completely living up your hopes. At first you thought that his confident yet humble demeanor must hide something. Something incredible, because he can sit back and freely applaud other men for their talents. Something remarkable because he doesn’t feel the need to jump out in front of others. Something big. Very big.

“I don’t doubt your family’s bond or strength, but I am here to choose a suitor, a husband in layman's terms. So, I suppose that—”

“Wait,” Daichi cries out, and gestures towards his Karasuno brethren.

A tangerine head jumps up and brings out a scroll. He skips a few steps towards you and passes the document over to the shaman who brings it to you.

“My resume, if you will, my lady. I have no other talents but what is shown there.”

You glance at Daichi, studying him closely. From his clenched fist, you can tell that even in this moment, he’s a bit shaken and nervous. You undo the ties on the scroll and unravel the contents.

All eyes are fixed on you, trying to decipher every microexpression you make. The slight widened eyes, the twitch of the brow. The slight part of the lips and the deep breathes from you trying to calm the invisible fire that’s building in your core. It’s big. If the resume is accurate, Daichi’s demeanor truly is hiding a beast. A massive, humongous, schlong. Finer than any specimen you have seen in banned pictorial books you read and hide under your massive princess bed.

The sheer size and girth of the XL 2d image is rendered in X-TRA fine detail. You brush a finger onto the parchment, tracing the lines depicting the veins running along the shaft. You gulp, rubbing your finger down what is drawn as a big, swollen tip that’s glistening. Artists these days are so detail-oriented, it looks as if precum is just dripping from the tip and shimmering. So realistic, you just want to take it all into your mouth. To gag or to choke. Neither are a question.

The balls, those massive balls that are the storehouses for an endless supply of fresh cum. Organics from the finest the kingdom has to offer. Precious jewels hanging at the base, ripe for your licking. It looks so juicy and plump and you want nothing more than to rub your cheeks, cooing at how cute they are.

You know it’s good. It better be good if the painting is depicting something this sumptuous. If this is the real deal, then you really have nailed the jackpot and secured a brilliant future for yourself. Marital bliss. Bedroom adventures. Bedroom adventures where he’ll fulfill every nightmarish fantasy you ever have. It’ll be hard at first, your cunt’s so tight and he’s so big! But it’s okay, you’ll take him like the royal princess you are because the Kingdom of YoreNaym raises whores and sluts only!

No scratch that. Coital activities can take place anywhere. Maybe you’ll cockwarm him while the two of you hear what the morning court has to say about the affairs of the kingdom. Maybe you’ll find yourself tumbling around in the garden after a cute game of hide and seek, skirt hiked up, as he fucks a grass stain into your back! Okay. That might not be the best idea. Perhaps just once. For novelty’s sake.

But hear me out, when you are sneaking into the kitchen for some snacks, he’ll pin you on the large baker’s table and just take you right there to fuck his babies into your womb. His cock pumping into you as the table creaks and shakes from his thunderous movements. He’ll fill you to the brim with copious amounts of his hot cum, heaps and heaps of them, just like the baker fills the buns with cream custard in the most obscene fashion ever. Watch your belly rise and bulge up like pastries in the oven. Oooh cummies.

You sigh and squirm in the seats as you continue examining the masterpiece of a dick. You feel your heartbeat racing wildly as if you are caught tinkling in the castle fountain. It’s unknown if you ever did that, by the way. Just saying, your memory is failing you just a tad. But oh gosh, you’re wet already. The slick pooling between your folds is just soaking through your princess panties; the ones in the drawer where you keep all your secret prince Sakusa drawings heehee. But Sakusa’s pretty face aside, you are now face to face with the most magnificent dick pic you’ll ever receive. Not really unsolicited, but damn work of art. Literally.

The crowd is silent when you clear your throat and roll up the scroll, taking extra care to not let anyone else touch your new precious treasure. You lean forward and perceive Daichi. Daichi gives you a cocky grin, showing his teeth. Slightly stained with the wine, but it’s just temporary. It doesn’t matter as long as the real deal is...well, real.

Daichi catches your eyes wandering to the outline of the bulge between his legs. The glorious dickprint that he’s casually showing to everyone present. It puts Herculean Bokuto to shame, Ushijima into a blushing mess. Kuroo nearly snorts his colored powders. Daishou’s tongue hangs out and dries. Oikawa is sent to the medics. Kita no longer waxes poetry about the weather. Terushima leaves the party early.

Daichi is smug and casually asks, “My lady, would you like to examine the goods? I am a pure man and would not carelessly offer tastes to anyone. But you are a princess of the Kingdom of YoreNaym. You can have a sampling before you commit. Satisfaction guaranteed.”

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #daichi smut #daichi x reader smut #daichi x reader #did y'all see kazooli's post on fetishizing fictional men and their fictional dicks and balls?#this is my answer #forever a princess of yorenaym #you can be too if you want #emi.freshtea #ch daichi #🍵.daichi

187 notes · View notes

alluringjae · 3 years

Text

until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

⤑ ctto above!!

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

343 notes · View notes

leonicscorpio · 3 years

Text

Batboy Headcanons because I made this for me but you all can enjoy this too if want. (May contain mild NSFW)

Dick:

Has a weird relationship with unwanted gaze and the attention he receives because of his physique. He genuinely likes the attention but he draws the line when people start getting touchy. Just because he's shirtless working out doesn't mean he gave you consent to touch him.

Has good dieting skills but he's in his mid-late 20's and his metabolism has 0 signs of slowing down. He once ate a whole xl bag of M&M's in front of Steph and Babs and both said they wanted to murder him because he won't gain a pound.

Dick has ADHD and I'm sorry if you don't think otherwise. He has hyperactive type ADHD and while he's gotten better at controlling his symptoms he still stims stretching and flexing his arms and shaking his arms.

While not so much in Gotham, Dick is very politically active and volunteers at voter registration and working with organizations with the mission of police demilitarization in Blüdhaven.

Dick is a very sexually driven individual. However, I don't think it's entirely healthy. His ADHD also comes into play with this but Dick just needs to have a release at least twice a day or he'll feel physically sick.

I don't know if you all have seen male gymnasts. But Dick, like the rest of them, has FREAKSISHLY large biceps. Everyone talks about Dick has the best ass in the bat family and while Jason may be larger and stronger, Dick has the best physique.

Dick's apartment is littered with sticky notes in places such as the fridge/in front of his computer. If it's not written down and in a place where he can't ignore it, it's not going to get done.

I'm sorry I know everyone says his birthday is in March but I have to go to the older Nightwing comics and say his Birthday is December 1st. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me this man doesn't give off Sagittarius energy. You can't. I respect you but you can't look at that and tell me that man isn't a Sagittarius or has super heavy Sag in his birth chart.

Dick's at home doing nothing but chilling? You best believe he's gonna be shirts off, tits out, and rocking some blue flannel PJ's.

Dick is currently the only member of the family asides from Barbara who is regularly attending therapy. And he actively encourages each of his brothers and sisters to go every time.

After his Agent 37 days. He sits down with Jason and talks about having to use a gun and how hard it was. And how having to kill people has affected him. When he had to kill the KGBeast (Agent 37 days he snapped his neck) I headcanon Dick just trauma v*mit*d. Jason hugged him and just consoled him.

It's canon that Dick has anger issues but to me, it's not explored or talked about enough and not a lot of people like to talk about it. Dick is very much the 'if I ignore it it'll go away' type when it comes to his anger and he can brush most insults or harassment off fine enough. But when he breaks, he makes Jason look like a saint. I'm talking slamming you into a wall and screaming in your face angry. He'll be profusely apologetic afterward but still.

Despite popular belief, I don't think he's that bad of a cook. He's just not very experimentative. He can follow a recipe and does look at some guides. But to me, Dick Grayson just is that guy who is like Chicken veggies and rice are a meal that I can cook 4-6 times a week.

Dick has a slight fear of dentists. He doesn't have bad teeth and has good dental health. He just doesn't like the idea of a drill going in his mouth and the few times Bruce has to take him to a dentist he had a panic attack every time.

Everyone lives for the fics where Jason beats the shit out of Tim and everyone is just like lol well Bruce and Dick just forgives him. No. When Dick found out it was Jason who beat Tim to the ground, Dick was literally seething and told Jason "Pick on someone your own size or else I'll make you wish you back in that f'ing coffin."

Dick's favorite foods (some based in Canon*): Milk Chocolate*, Cereal*, Asparagus, Bananas, Banana flavored candy, Hawaiian Pizza* (suffer its canon) Rum, thanksgiving Turkey.

Jason:

He may be the self-diagnosed black sheep (rightfully so) of the family, but Jason does genuinely love spending time with his siblings. Whether it be sharing memes with them on social media or just randomly showing up where they are and abducting them to go get ice cream/coffee/snacks.

He'd probably attempt to harm you if you told him this to his face. But he is the closest acting to Bruce out of all of the family. In terms of mannerisms and inherent warmth and kindness behind a dark façade.

Has two moods: either exceptionally, almost neat-freak levels of clean, or his life is completely falling apart and Jason can't tell you for sure what color his floors are because there's so much stuff scattered about.

Despite their initial hatred of each other, Jason truly feels closest to Tim and Tim is the only person asides from maybe Barbra who he can just talk to without feeling any judgment.

Jason only smokes when he's extremely nervous about an operation or a hit. For those who don't know criminal justice cigarettes are the fastest way to get genetic material on someone. That being said he does still like to smoke occasionally.

Me, plus a lot of people give him this sort of 'Lazarus Rage' as I like to call it. When he's in the heat of a mission or if he's getting upset/angry his vision will get blurred with green, and it feeds on his anger and just gets perpetually harder to contain until he releases it. Jason has gotten much better at controlling it. But as he will tell Tim or Babs, he's "seeing green" which means they need to be careful because Jason could kill.

Everyone says Dick is the mother hen. I see you, I accept you, but let me raise you. Jason came to realize that he died because of his rash decision to go after The Joker alone. If Jason finds any of his siblings out acting alone, or even at the very least without Oracle. Jason WILL forcefully interject himself and ask them what the fuck they think their doing.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Trying to get close to Jason is hard. He will degrade you can attempt to try to get you to hate him before he lets you in (that cheeky Tsun of him)

He genuinely cares for and supports all of his siblings but has been rough on them needlessly. But if Bruce is being the distant or absent parent he is, you better believe if any of the siblings drops him a text or a call, Jason will be there in a heartbeat.

He's the most physically powerful of the whole Bat Family. You don't understand because of his time in the League, his time with the All-Caste, and having abused Venom for a time, he can snap an arm bone like it's a carrot with little effort.

Everyone in the family likes dogs and goes out of their way to gush over a dog, but Jason takes it to a whole new level. And even when he's masked up dogs just gravitate to Jason.

Can and has grown a beard in a matter of a few days. He usually likes to be clean shaven but some days he likes to wear a beard just to throw everyone off.

One time him, Steph, Tim, and Duke all went to a restaurant (Red Robin lol) and the waitress got his order wrong and his burger had raw tomatoes on it, Jason took the tomatoes off and ate it while looking absolutely miserable. Tim: Jay why did you eat that you didn't have to you know you could have asked the server to fix your burger. Jason, almost in tears: "She works really hard and she tried and I'm a scary dude I don't want to make her upset.." Duke: "... Jason you literally shot at a cop for looking at you funny the other day. But you're afraid of upsetting a waitress?!? I mean ACAB but dude.. "

Jason's happiest big brother moment™ was taking Tim and Damian to the shooting range and watching them both get their first bullseye.

You can't tell me Jason Todd was into the Emo/Screamo/Warped-Tour Scene. His favorite bands/Albums in no particular order, That's the Spirit (Literally the whole album is Jason Themed and I'm gonna die on this hill) & Sempiternal by Bring me the Horizon, Digital Renegade & Everyone's Safe in the Treehouse by I See Stars, The Resistance: Rise of the Runaways by Crown the Empire,

Jason Todd's favorite foods: (Also some based in Canon*) Burgers, Chili Dogs*, Lager-style beers, Freshly baked bread*, Neopolitan ice cream, grilled corn, and Chinese Chicken noodle soup with Duck.

Tim:

This boy *slaps car roof* gives off so much asexual energy. I know New 52 exists but I just feel like Tim is the person who really, REALLY has to trust you and like you before he's sexually active with you.

HYPERFIXATES. You also can't tell me Tim isn't on the spectrum/or has ADHD.

Is the only member of the family who regularly checks up on Jason and talks to him every day via text message. The two are memelords together and love to play pranks on the other members.

While Dick may give the most frequent hugs and Jason gives the tightest, most secure hugs, Tim's hugs are always the warmest and make you just feel good.

Tim's birthday is July 19th. Meaning he's a Cancer. Let that sink in.. no, really let that information just soak. (Note I have nothing against Cancer women, cancer men however....)

All of the bat boys really struggle with talking about their feelings. Dick will manipulate you into changing the subject via twisting it to be about you, Jason will just cut you off or will ignore you, Damian will deflect everything and harass you until you stop, Tim however, Tim is very emotional and while he's very calculated about who he's emotional with, he's not afraid to break down and cry if he trusts you.

Everyone who says he's the level headed Robin haha how's it feel to be WRONG. Tim is at best the least functional college student and at worst a lemming. 'No Tim, coffee isn't a meal I'm going to make you some food or I'm going to stick you in a room with Damian for an hour.' Richard (Dick) John Grayson.

People overblow how addicted to caffeine Tim is. But it's true. Just overblown. You can talk to him before he's had his caffeine just don't expect him to be anything but curt and blunt.

Everyone says Jason would be the worst at texting but it's Tim. He's the master of leaving you on read. While Jason may do it on purpose, Tim is just really bad at texting people and while he always will read your messages he forgets to respond unless it's really funny or really pressing.

Everyone sees Tim as this bean pole super skinny boy Robin. Tim may not be stacked like Dick or a freaking tank like Jason, but Tim is NOT super skinny. He's just as muscular and likes to work out as anyone, but he just is super lean, so he looks a lot bigger and his muscles are more defined because of how thin his skin is. He has those almost disgusting spider veins on his arm. Kind of gross to look at, but he's the dream of any nurse. This means Tim is also the king of accidentally sending/posting thirst traps.

He really is the glue of the Bat Family. Everyone kidnaps Tim for 'Tim Time'.

Dick likes to spar with and in general just hang out with Tim. Tim tried to teach Dick how to skateboard and you'd think the boy who mastered the trapeze would know how to skateboard but you'd be wrong.

Babs and Tim always hang out and talk about computer stuff and Babs knows she can vent to Tim about anything and he won't say a word.

Tim and Steph were a thing for a while and even though they're just friends now, they still are very close and the two have a very deep bond, liking to shop with each other and watch movies,

Cass just loves to be around Tim because of how calming he is but also she knows she can spar with him AND Cass can also skateboard with Tim too.

Even though him and Damian are always fighting, the two still end up being together and have this unspoken bond. They work great together on a team but other than that they still hate each other.

And while everyone still is hesitant around Jason, and despite the fact that Jason literally beat Tim to within an inch of his life, AND would still trigger Tim and taunt him about it. The two have this odd closeness that rivals even him and Steph. Tim will always be the first to bat for Jason. Jason was Tim's Robin. And despite the fact Jason literally beat it into Tim's head to "never meet your heroes." Tim will always be there for Jason should he ask. The two are just close. And it's hard to describe. Bruce has caught Tim and Jason just platonically sleeping next to each other or just doing their own things shoulder to shoulder silently, just enjoying each other's company.

Tim and Duke also have a really positive relationship with one another and the two can stay up all night just talking about anything. Their minds just mesh well together. The two also love to team up and prank the other members of the Batman Family.

Tim's favorite ASMR/Stim? Watching those Tik Toks of people cleaning computers or cleaning phones. The sound of an air duster is like music to his ears and if any of the Bats need their technology cleaned it secretly makes Tim so happy to help them.

Wear his hair up or wear his hair down? It depends! While Tim likes his long hair he also has gotten plenty of compliments for his short hair and likes to style it to suit any occasion.

My one pet-peeve with Tim is that he probably is that person who lets his privilege show from time to time. While he was essentially raised to just sit down, shut up, and be a perfect trophy son to the Drake's. The Drake's were in the same tax bracket as Bruce and Tim definitely was a rich kid. He never means to come across as spoiled, but sometimes Jason will give him harsh looks if Tim just throws away food he doesn't like or says things like Chipotle is 'poor people food'

Tim Drake's favorite foods (you know by now*) Donuts*, Shallot and Artichoke Pizza with Canadian Bacon* (odd choice but it could work) Artichokes in general are his favorite vegetable, Strawberries, and Beef Pho.

Damian:

I headcanon that he has the worst teeth of all of the Bat Boys and he actually has to use lingual braces. (Hence why you can't see his braces)

Canonically is a very good artist and while him and Tim don't get along, Tim introduced Damian to digital art and gave him a photoshop pack and a nice tablet for his birthday one year and Damian loved it so much.

Damian is a capricorn and I will die on this hill. A January capricorn too.

Now you want a good chef? You've got Damian. Having converted to veganism Damian has had to get creative whenever he goes out to eat so he tends to like to eat more home cooked foods. Damian loves all matters of mushrooms, eggplant, and bell peppers.

Damian really struggles the most with his wanting to just be a normal kid. Despite the fact he will dismiss you for it, anytime he gets to spend at Gotham Academy with Jon and the rest of the kids he's naturally the happiest.

Damian LOVES to give gifts. He loves the look on people's faces when they are shocked when they actually get something from Damian.

Despite the fact that he's been traumatized from both his times with Ra's and Talia as well as with Bruce. He just wants Bruce and Talia to be together because he loves them both equally.

While he's the least flexible and least gymnastic of the Robins do let your guard down around him. He is the fastest runner and the guy is rivaled only by Jason in terms of lethality.

So someone (Jason Todd & Duke Thomas) introduced Damian to trap music and ever since anytime his phone gets stolen people will be shocked to find he's listening to some combination of Lil' Yachty, X, Kendrick Lamar, Wiz, and Kodak.

If any random person tries to hug Damian he'll immediately push them away, he'll bitch and moan about just about anyone hugging him other than Bruce & Dick.

Damian loves to go to the beach/the ocean. He just thinks it's so vast and he loves the brineness of the air. Also being half white, quarter middle-eastern and quarter Chinese (Yes everyone forgets Talia is half Chinese) Damian gets DARK. And although he's just okay as a swimmer he still likes bogeyboarding and eventually wants to learn how to surf.

I'm genuinely afraid once Puberty is done with this kid and everyone in the family is. He has Bruce Wayne AND Talia Al-Ghouls genes and those are two SEXY human beings. Damian's gonna grow a beard one day and people aren't going to know how to act.

Damian secretly plays Fortnight and not even Jon knows. He doesn't want to get shamed. He'd rather lose a match and ruin his streaks than deal with the shame of anyone in that family finding out he plays Fortnight.

Damian Wayne's favorite foods (canon*) Cereal*, Avocados, Grilled Tempeh, his mom's Tabbouleh, Mushroom Tacos, and Vegan Sushi rolls, and grape juice.

Duke Thomas

Duke is like, freakishly good with a piano, and he picked it up naturally!

Also everyone says Tim brews the best pot of coffee in the Bat Family, cue to everyone's surprise when Tim was sick one day and couldn't make a pot. Only to find the coffee was freaking amazing. Duke didn't take any credit at first until Alfred let it slip that Duke was the one who brewed the pot.

Duke being the only Meta of the family originally thought he was the double-token because he was a Meta and a black boy. Needless to say his fears were seriously unfounded the moment he got to know everyone.

Although he somewhat fears Jason and his temper initially, he and Jason have one of the closest relationships in the family. If Tim isn't around to bat for Jason, Duke will happily take his spot. The two work on each other's bikes and grew to share the same taste in music.

Duke uses his Photokenetic powers as a force for good and for shenanigans. Jason wants to play a prank on Dick and Damian while Dick is reading Damian a story? Duke will hide Jason in the shadows and will cover up his shadow. Alfred dropped something in the dark? You better believe Duke will find it in 3 seconds or less.

Duke makes it a point to visit his parents every weekend to talk to them. Although they are making some progress in their recoveries, it's still slow going. Eventually, he starts bringing members of the family to see his parents. It started with Cass, then Jason, and the rest followed suit.

Duke loves playing video games with Damian and even helps Damian beat some tougher levels when Damian is about to rage and destroy the console.

Duke is into Magic the Gathering and you cannot tell me otherwise. Duke also is the DM for the Bat Kids annual D&D games. I can and will make a D&D Batfam Headcanons if asked.

Loves Pho just as much as Cass and Tim and they all call it a date night every now and then where they can go to a hole in the wall pho place. It's really a secret between the three of them.

DUKE THOMAS IS THE BEST SWIMMER OF THE BAT BOYS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. HE JUST THRIVES IN THE WATER.

Finding out his birth father is a supervillain was really tough for him. He went into a shell for a little bit afterwards. Cass and Steph were there to help talk him out of his funk.

Duke Thomas's favorite foods (lol what canon DC hasn't acknowleged our boy in a while..) Chicken Pho, Thai Iced Tea, Papaya, Crab Cakes, Italian Hoagies, his mom's Lemon Poundcake, mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I hope y'all enjoyed! Up next (eventually) will be the Bat Girls!

#Dick Grayson #Batfam #Batboys #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Duke Thomas #Bruce Wayne #Barbara Gordon #Cassandra Cain #Stephanie Brown #Headcanons #Slight OOC but hey If DC can't stay in character neither should I

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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years

Text

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 1]

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.” “Yeah?” Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” "Won't be a problem."

Amy Santiago doesn't date cops. Jake Peralta's sworn never to date a lawyer again. When a couple of drinks and the returning of a borrowed shirt ends with the two of them in bed together, Amy decides to take control of the situation the best way she knows how: a comprehensive set of rules. There's just one little thing she hadn't anticipated – Jake Peralta is full of surprises.

Written for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange.

AO3 link // playlist

My contribution to this year’s fic exchange, for @fezzle! @b99fandomevents 💛

1. i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same)

He gets out of the car, and before Amy can gather the courage to shout after him, he’s disappeared from her sight.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing her fist and punching it in frustration. It doesn’t feel better, just makes her hand hurt. Amy pretends that’s what’s making her eyes tear up, and not the thought that she just screwed up her chances of ever seeing Jake Peralta again.

five months earlier.

The cop is five minutes late entering the courtroom, and Amy vows to dislike him from that point onward.

What's worse is that he doesn't seem ashamed. He simply gives Judge Stewart an apologetic grin, runs a hand through his already messy hair, and sits down on the bench next to the sergeant Amy recognizes as Terry Jeffords. Amy gives him a polite faked smile to tell him she's noted this presence and she's going to win this case, but the cop doesn't seem to notice the toxicity in her facial expression, because she gets another wide grin back. Judging from the colorful marks on his teeth, it looks like he had candy for breakfast – could it be gummy bears? Either way, Amy's respect for the man sinks even lower.

At least she won't have to worry about him, she tells herself. She already knows this case is about to be a win.

That is until it turns out this man has a reply for everything. She’d been certain the evidence against her client was circumstantial at best, nowhere near enough to get him convicted on, and the notes she’d gone through from the initial police questioning had lacked significant information. It had been nothing short of sloppy, and she’d entered the courthouse this morning filled with glowing confidence. That same confidence is now seeping away, dripping onto the polished floors of the courtroom in exchange for heated frustration as it turns out the detective – Jake Peralta, she learns – was present at the scene earlier than Amy had gathered, and from the vantage point he had, saw her client running from the corner store at full speed.

“Would you say it’s possible my client was running for a different reason?” She asks, staring coldly into the detective’s eyes as she speaks. “Such as exercising, perhaps?”

“Well, he was carrying a huge green backpack, identical to the one he was wearing when my partner Charles caught him ten minutes later. So, no,” he says, meeting her look with a smug smile of his own. “I would say that’s unlikely.”

“But not impossible?”

“Considering we also found the stolen goods in that same backpack, I’d say the chance is pretty solid it was him.”

“The bags couldn’t have been switched? Or, as my client claims, the goods couldn’t have been dropped in there by someone who wanted to get rid of them?”

“With all due respect,” says Jake Peralta, and the self-assuredness in his voice is enough for her to know the case is lost. “The streets were more crowded than a Taylor Swift concert, your honor. Someone would have seen something.”

It’s late Friday afternoon by the time Amy returns to the office of Newsom & Associates, but there’s still plenty of her coworkers left to watch as she throws her briefcase on top of the chair before closing the door to her office and digging out her pack of shame cigarettes from the bottom drawer of her desk. The only window in the room opens out to a back alley with trash cans and forgotten bikes, which is a drab view most of the time but comes in handy for secret shame-smoking. She closes her eyes and leans back against the wall, trying to savor the first inhale. She hates the habit and always tells herself she’s going to quit soon, but at times when work stresses her out like this, there’s no better fix. It’s all Jake Peralta’s fault, anyway. He’d waved at her when they’d left the courtroom, looking genuinely pleased to see her, and that had only worsened her frustration. It’s one thing being defeated – it’s worse when the winner acts like it wasn’t even a big deal.

“You should stop that.” The sound of Rosa’s voice appearing in the doorway to Amy’s office causes her to inhale too much smoke, coughing and tearing up as she hurries to extinguish the cigarette butt on the windowsill. “It’s gross.”

“I needed it,” Amy coughs again before drying her eyes with the sleeve of her blazer. “You should’ve been there. That fucking detective ruined my defense.”

“So? It happens. Doesn’t make you a bad lawyer. Stop pitying yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you win nearly all your cases,” Amy mumbles. “And everyone’s terrified of you.”

Rosa does a little shrug, but Amy thinks she can spot the hint of a smile on her lips. She can’t be certain, though. Rosa almost never smiles, but that’s not nearly the most terrifying thing about her. She also rides her motorcycle to court and wears leather jackets and skin-tight black jeans to trials, and somehow no one's ever dared to police her on it. Amy once asked her out of curiosity if putting on a blazer would really hurt that much, and the stare she got back told her she’d be a fool to make that mistake again.

“Either way, it's not that. It was that cop who ruined everything. I mean, he showed up late, for god’s sake, with candy in his teeth and a wrinkled suit! But he somehow had an answer and explanation for everything,” Amy snorts. “And he smiled the whole time like he’d already won. And he referenced Taylor Swift! During the trial! Who does that?”

Rosa lets out a laugh. “You're a Swift hater? God, please don't tell me you took Kanye’s side too.”

“I didn't – that's beside the point!”

“Which is?”

“That he has zero respect for the sacred rules of a courtroom, and gets away with it all because of that super-charm smile.”

“Yeah, you mentioned the smile. Twice.”

“It was just so…” She clenches her fist until her red nails press into her palm to the point of pain, then releases it. “It's fine. I’ll win my next case, and there are lots of cops in New York. I probably won't ever see him again.”

Amy can barely hide her frustration in court the next week when she hears the doors open and looks up from the papers she was sorting, only to see Jake Peralta for the second time in her life. He’s on time today, which she supposes is progress, but there are stains on his shirt that seem to be coming from the can of orange soda he’s holding in his hand. She wonders if it's his breakfast. If that's his diet, he looks surprisingly fit in a grey suit for it.

He grins again when he sees her, raising his hand in a lazy wave. Amy gives him a forced smile, then returns to her papers. She’ll have to make sure to win this time.

But despite her confidence and very best efforts, she loses to Jake Peralta yet another time.

And another.

It's not that she's suddenly magically unlucky, because she still manages to win several other cases, but every time Jake Peralta shows up to testify, without fault, Amy loses.

It infuriates her.

The worst part is that Jake seems oblivious to her anger. He smiles at her every time they leave the courtroom, even though she returns them with little to no genuineness at all. She once spots him doing a childish victory gesture outside the courthouse, but he never once takes the opportunity to brag about his win to her face.

Aside from his surprisingly good manners when it comes to bragging, though, he's a mess. There's always some kind of stain on his shirt or his cheek that he seems unaware of, his ways of describing things involve one too many pop culture references for Amy’s liking, and she starts preparing to meet him every time a detective is five minutes late. She wonders if no one's ever told him how one is supposed to behave in a courtroom, but he’s usually accompanied by the precinct’s sergeant, so that seems unlikely. The more likely option, Amy figures, is that he just doesn't seem to find it that important; especially considering he seems to get away with it every single time.

She swears it's all because of that stupid infectious smile.

It pleases Amy to no end when she learns that Jake Peralta is going to be the witness in one of the strongest cases she’s had in a long while. The client was clearly acting in self-defense, she has a witness of her own who can testify to that, and although she knows that nothing is for certain until the verdict falls, she’s got a good feeling about this one. Finally, the day has come for Jake Peralta to watch her win.

At first, the state attorney’s case seems solid. Jake is assisted by a short, round-faced man with dark brown hair and an expression that looks like he’s seconds away from apologizing for taking up everyone’s time, but his suit is matched and perfectly straight and he gets right to the point without any odd references, so Amy still earns a fair amount of respect for detective Charles Boyle. He and Jake had entered the subway car after hearing about a fight taking place, and stepped on just in time to watch her client aim a closed-fist punch at the face of the man on top of him. It’s clear and convincing, but Amy knows that after the recess, it will be her time to shine. She loves these moments, when it’s obvious the other side thinks they have it in the bag but she knows something they don’t, and they have no idea what’s coming. She knows trials are about justice and not personal victories – but she’s only human. Winning is always a thrill.

She’s thinking about how she’s going to be celebrating her win later this evening when Jake Peralta bumps into her at the coffee shop neighboring the courthouse. As in, literally bumps into her, with his elbow when he hurries forward to grab a plastic cup with whipped cream and so much caramel syrup on top of the coffee that Amy pities his dentist.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry… wait, it's you!” He shines up as if he’d just seen a past good friend, and Amy’s once more taken aback by how polite he is. A lot of cops she meets during trials either tend to make fun of her profession or glare bitterly at her from a distance, but Jake's doing neither. He even reaches out his free hand to shake hers, so she accepts. “Jake Peralta – wow, you have a very firm handshake.”

“I took a seminar. Amy Santiago.”

“Where?” He asks, but she ignores him and moves forward in line to order her coffee with milk.

“Nothing for your client? Wow. I’d expected you to have better manners than that, Santiago.”

“I offered, but he wanted to spend recess with his partner for moral support. See?” She raises a brow at him. “I do have manners.”

There's that smile again, up close this time, and Amy's relieved when the barista hands her the coffee so she can hide the involuntary blush in her cheeks. She never noticed he had dimples before.

“So, how are you feeling about the rest of the trial, then? Ready to go defend the guilty guy?”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Peralta. Famously one of the most sacred principles in the American justice system. And I was born ready.”

“And lose. The whole question was, are you ready to go defend the guilty guy and lose, and you said you were born that way.” Jake grins in a way that makes him look like an overgrown mischievous school kid. Maybe not that far off, Amy thinks.

“Twist my words all you want, I am winning this case.” She hesitates for a moment, noticing Jake's detective partner looking at the two of them from a table in the corner of the room. Not normally something she'd be that creeped out by, if it hadn't been for the fact that the man isn’t tearing his eyes away from them, and he looks weirdly overjoyed. “Uhm, is detective Boyle okay? He's staring at us pretty intensely.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, he has… an eye condition.” Jake turns around and mouths something that looks to be BOYLE, and the man rolls his eyes before stalking away. “Ignore him. Anyway… so what do you think about the judge?”

Amy's about to launch into a description of her good experience with judge Myers when someone brushes past her with their iced coffee in a hurry, losing control of the plastic cup. The unsecured lid wobbles, and before Amy realizes what’s about to happen, cold coffee splashes onto her earlier pristine white blouse. “Fuck!” She reaches for a bunch of paper napkins and tries to dab the worst away with them, but the milky coffee is already seeping through the fabric and leaving an obvious stain that her blazer can’t hide.

“What a jerk,” Jake mutters, glaring in the direction of where the stranger disappeared.

“Never mind that! I don’t have another shirt! I can’t go into a courtroom looking like this! Unlike you, I actually care about whether my clothes have giant stains on them!”

“First of all, rude, and second of all, they’re not giant.”

“I don’t care. I’m screwed. Fuck, I don’t have time to run back home before the trial starts – I guess I could call Rosa –”

“Hey, hey.” Jake holds up his hands as if trying to calm her down, which only makes Amy more frustrated. “I know this is kind of crazy, but, I have a shirt in my car that I was planning to return to my ex. But emphasis on ex, so…” He shrugs. “You could borrow it?”

Amy considers her options. On the one hand, she figures there’s about an eighty percent chance that whatever Jake has in his car also has some kind of mysterious stain on it, but on the other hand, she took the subway today and there's no way she’ll make it to her apartment and back before the court is back in session. Asking for a longer recess is an option, but making everyone wait simply because she needs a change of clothes makes her too uncomfortable to even consider.

“Fine,” she relents. “Where's your car?”

Jake's car turns out to be an old Mustang, which Amy can tell even from her strictly limited car-knowledge is pretty impressive, but she doesn't understand how he can find anything in there. The backseat is a mess of empty orange soda bottles, a couple of frisbees, candy wrappers, what looks to be cartoons and old CDs, and the cup holders have shaving foam next to another can of orange soda. She's equally surprised and impressed when he pulls out a clean, dark blue charmeuse blouse. Whoever Jake's ex-girlfriend was, she seems to have both taste and money.

“You're totally saving my day today,” she says as he gives it to her. “You really didn't have to.”

“Prove that cops aren't all bad?” Amy rolls her eyes, and Jake laughs. “Just kidding. You have to give it back, though.”

“As soon as I’ve washed it. Wait, we have to be able to get in touch.” She digs in the inside pocket of her briefcase and pulls out two of her business cards. “I’m assuming you don't have any, so write your number on the back of that one.”

“Rude, but correct.” He scribbles down something on one of the cards before giving it back. “I’ll see you up there, then… Amy Santiago.”

Something about the way he says her name, slowly and with perfect pronunciation, makes her want to hear it again. She hurries back into the building and toward the bathrooms, hopefully before he can tell that she's blushing.

“The defense may call the next witness.”

“The defense calls Elinor Simons.” Amy can feel everyone's eyes on her as well as the witness as a young girl, no more than eighteen, walks up to the stand. She's pale, but she looks determined, and Amy gives her a comforting smile as she swears the oath.

Elinor’s voice trembles at her first words, but Amy keeps steady eye contact with her, and soon she’s speaking louder and less hesitant. She had been on her way to her friend’s house when she entered the same subway car as the two young men, and had overheard the two of them fighting over something. Sitting only a few seats away from them in the near-empty car, she’d noticed the defendant looking scared, and out of curiosity, had turned off her music. She’d heard the man who’d later gotten attacked – Mr. Lorentz – scream that the defendant was an asshole, and then she’d seen him push him to the floor, much unlike the way the prosecution had described a course of events in which both men had slipped. It had scared her, so she’d gotten up to walk away, but before she could move she’d seen Mr. Lorentz leaning down.

“It looked like he was about to hit the defendant,” she says without wavering, and Amy can see a few of the jury members nodding in understanding. “And even if they were about the same size, Mr. Lorentz looked really strong. The defendant tried, but it seemed to me like he was unable to get up. I remember thinking this wasn’t going to end well, so I headed for the end of the car before they noticed me.”

“And you’re sure of what you saw?”

“Completely sure. I only found out later that the defendant was a cousin of my sister’s boyfriend, which is how I learned about the trial.”

Amy nods and clasps her hands together, trying to assume a confident stance as she keeps her eyes focused on the witness stand. “Elinor, in the position he was in, do you believe that the defendant would have been scared?”

“I think anyone would have been.”

“So the punch witnesses watched the defendant throw, could it have been in self-defense?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

Amy smiles. “Thank you. No further questions.”

The prosecution’s closing arguments are short and precise, sticking entirely to the part of the events that took part after the police walked in. The district attorney, a balding man in his fifties, as good as overlooks Elinor’s testimony in favor of focusing in on detailed descriptions of the headaches Mr. Lorentz had experienced after the event, and that alone is enough to make Amy’s blood boil; but instead she just sits there, waiting with a polite smile on her lips.

Finally, the other attorney sits down, and the judge nods at Amy to stand up. During her very first trials, this moment used to freak her out – everyone’s eyes on her and waiting expectantly – but with time she’s come to love this. It reminds her of the thrill of getting the last word in a heated fight with her siblings when she was younger, only now, she doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Everyone’s already listening.

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: it’s correct that the defendant hit Mr. Lorentz on that train. He admits to doing so himself.” Amy nods to the young man sitting next to her, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs on his shirt. “But there is one key aspect which the prosecution has so conveniently chosen to ignore, and that is the events which led up to Mr. Petersen’s actions. A background which he not only has explained clearly himself, but which is also backed up by Ms. Simmons’ testimony.” She gestures with her hand to Elinor.

“You see, Mr. Petersen wasn’t acting unprovoked. When the incident happened, he had been pushed to the floor, and like both my client and the witness described, he was unable to get up. Mr. Lorentz himself admits to practicing weightlifting; he’s not a weak man, and in the moment, he was clearly upset with the defendant. As Ms. Simmons put it… “ She takes a break to gather the attention of everyone in the room. “Anyone in that position would have been terrified.”

“Under New York Law, Penal Law paragraph thirty-five point fifteen, a person is justified in using physical force against another, when that person is under the reasonable belief that the physical force is necessary to defend the person from what they reasonably believe to be the illegal imminent use of force or the illegal use of force. Mr. Petersen was stuck, and under the reasonable belief that Mr. Lorentz could hurt him unless he managed to free himself. He acted in self-defense, which I remind you that the prosecution has not been able to disprove. In fact, the case against Mr. Petersen cannot be proved against reasonable doubt, which means that you must find him… not guilty.”

From the other side of the room, she swears she can feel Jake’s eyes on her. When she looks up, she sees him mouthing nice job.

“What did you say he looked like, now again? Except for crazy hot and adorable?” Kylie takes another sip of her mojito, spying over the crowded bar.

“Okay, I said neither of those things.”

Kylie shrugs. “Didn’t have to.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, I guess kind of a bigger nose… and I don’t know what he wears outside of court, but there was a leather jacket in the front seat of his car, so maybe that?” She strains her neck to try and see through the Friday night crowd. She’s never been to this particular Brooklyn bar before, but Jake had suggested it when Amy asked about a good place to give him back the shirt, and she’d figured after a long week, she might as well treat herself to a couple of after-work drinks with a friend. After being asked about the so-called mystery hottie five times, though, she’s starting to regret bringing Kylie along.

“Mm, that’s like, all the guys in here… oh, wait, that one’s waving to you!” Kylie points to a figure near the door, elbowing Amy in the side and causing her to nearly choke on her wine. She’s still coughing when Jake walks up to them, trying to offer him a smile while drying her eyes. Jake looks politely confused, but shakes Kylie’s hand in the meantime.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says with a meaning wink to Amy before sliding off the leather barstool, leaving it for Jake. “Have a good night!”

“Ignore her.” Amy sighs. “Sorry, I…”

“No, no worries,” Jake says, and the honest care in his expression makes her feel oddly warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She waves a dismissive hand and picks up the dry-cleaning bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Well, here’s the shirt. Thank you for the loan. Or thank your ex, I suppose.”

“Dry-cleaned, really? You truly are type A.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, it makes sense.” He nods to the glass in her hand. “Celebrating Tuesday’s win?”

“Something like that. It was Monday, though,” she can’t stop herself from correcting him. “I don’t get a lot of time off. Gotta make the best out of it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Do you mind if I join you for another drink? Or maybe you should do water, in case you choke again?”

Something about the way he poses it like a challenge makes her take the glass, put it to her lips, and swallow the rest of the wine in one gulp. “I think I can handle it.”

They pay for their own drinks, because whatever this meeting is, it’s definitely not a date, and it makes Amy relieved that Jake doesn’t seem to think so either.

“A toast,” he suggests. “To your win this week. I gotta give it to you, those closing statements were solid.”

“To justice,” Amy says, and they raise their beer bottles in unison. “And my win. Finally.”

“Yeah, what has it been, like, five wins for me?”

“Four, but dream on, Peralta.”

Jake laughs. The dimples in his cheeks become even more prominent when he laughs, Amy notes. “Have you always been this intense about winning cases, then? Or is it something that comes with law school? Like there’s a class in being petty about this stuff?”

You’re intense too, she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. “Maybe. I have seven brothers, and I was the only girl. I got pretty good at winning fights using other things than physical strength when I was a kid. Actually, sometimes physical strength, too.”

“I feel like you could beat someone up if you wanted to. You could surprise them.”

“Oh, I could most definitely beat someone up if I wanted to. But I stuck to arguing. I got good at it. And I always had good grades, so I ended up at Columbia, and I’ve never really regretted it.” She takes a swig of her beer. “Not even when cops call me the devil.”

“I wouldn’t call you the devil,” Jake says. “I mean, do I think you lack a bit of a moral compass? Probably. But each to their own.”

She leans her head a little bit to the side, eyeing him closely. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, you have to defend people that you know did awful things, right? Doesn’t that make you feel sick sometimes?”

“I don’t have to defend their actions. Most times, it’s not even about that. It’s about making sure the trial is fair, the evidence is sufficient and their rights are respected, so that if there’s a conviction, it’s actually beyond any reasonable doubt. I like to believe most people are better than their worst moments. I see it as my job to make sure they’re treated that way.”

“Huh.” Jake nods slowly. “Guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Plus,” she winks, “someone’s gotta hold you guys accountable, right?”

“Fine.” He shakes his head. “Hey, did you say you went to Columbia? My captain’s husband teaches law there. Did you ever have a Kevin Cozner?”

“No way! Your captain is Raymond Holt?” She’s speaking way too loudly, she can tell from the way other people are glancing at her, but Jake looks entertained. “Sorry, it’s just – Professor Cozner was my favorite constitutional law teacher. I still send him and Raymond Christmas cards every year!”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Jake grins. “But, how weird is that? Almost like the universe is bringing us together or something.”

Amy thinks that it’s not that weird, since Kevin must teach hundreds of students every year that g on to become lawyers, but she kind of wants to keep seeing that smile on Jake’s face forever, so she nods. “So weird.”

They order another drink, plus some chips and nuts when Jake realizes he forgot to eat dinner, and move to another table in the back of the room. Amy’s surprised how comfortable she feels in his presence. It’s like she can’t wipe the smile off her face but doesn’t want to, and with time and a little more alcohol, jokes that she barely would have noticed on any other day become laugh-out-loud funny. It feels natural, even though she’s not sure how, and she tries not to glance at the clock on the wall when he doesn’t either. She’s got work to do tomorrow and she can’t stay out forever, but she doesn’t want to be reminded that this evening has to end at some point.

“So what made you become a cop, then?” She asks when she realizes she’s the only one who’s shared her origin story tonight. “Childhood superhero dreams?”

Jake shines up like he’s been waiting for the question all night. “Oh, that’s easy. Die Hard.”

“Really?”

“For sure. Actually, my mom said I was always good at protecting people, so I ended up doing it for a job. But I think that’s bullshit. It was definitely Die Hard.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Amy confesses, and Jake stares at her like she just insulted his entire being. “But if you want a cop movie, my top three’s Training Day, Lethal Weapon, and Fargo.”

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong! How can you not have seen Die Hard? It’s classic, man!”

“I just never did! How many lawyer movies have you seen, then?”

“Uhm…” Jake squints. “Charles made me watch Legally Blonde once? It was pretty good, honestly.”

“Well, duh, that movie is a cinematic masterpiece and a feminist work of art. How feminist is Die Hard, from a scale of one to ten?”

“Hey! Holly Gennaro does plenty of cool stuff throughout the movies! You’re just going to have to watch them yourself.”

“I can almost guarantee you I won’t.”

“Fine, but you’re missing out.” He grabs a couple of peanuts from the jar between them, throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. “Cool trick, right?”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “Is this what you do at work all day?”

“I did teach myself that during stakeouts, but no. Whatever. Throw me another one.” She does, and he catches it again, this time almost sliding off the barstool in the process. She laughs a bubbling laugh as he does it another time. “Now you.”

“Fine. Try me.” The peanut flies through the air between them, and she tries to dive for it, but it just ends up landing at her feet. “Okay, another one.” She misses that one too. “Okay, there must be something wrong with these nuts.”

“Title of your sextape.”

“Title of my what?”

“Nevermind.” Jake laughs. “You just need some practice. Maybe at work? It could liven up a trial.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t need practice. Just need a better tactic.” Without thinking, she grabs a handful of them this time, throwing them in the air. This time, she catches a few of them in her mouth, while the rest end up spread over the couch and floor. “The key is volume!”

“Yeah, and the bartender is looking at you like he wants to kill you, so maybe don’t do it again or we’ll get thrown out.”

“It’s fine, I’m a lawyer.”

“That phrase works well to get out of trouble?”

“If you know what you’re doing. We could order more drinks to keep him happy?”

“Shots?”

“I’m down if you’re down.”

Jake orders a Kamikaze shot for each of them, and as she reaches forward to take the second glass, her hand brushes against the top of his for a moment longer than necessary, resting there. It’s warm, and it feels calloused but somehow soft at the same time. They look at each other, his light brown eyes staring into hers, and she feels instantly hyper-aware that they’re around far, far, too many people.

She lets go of his hand, taking the shot and swallowing it before anyone can notice what’s happening. It smells like sour hand sanitizer and burns going down, and she laughs at Jake’s grimace when he drinks his.

“God, every time.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, I know this is crazy, but… do you maybe want to get out of here? We could have another drink at my place… watch Die Hard… whatever.”

“Mm, yeah. Maybe I should check that the shirt gets back to your place properly?”

“Shirt? What shirt? Oh, right, fuck, the shirt!” Jake spins in place, rushing back to the table where they were just sat. “Shit, I probably spilled beer on it, Sophia’s going to be pissed now...”

“It’s still in the bag, smartass.” Amy shows him. “Ta-da. Shirt’s still clean. Comes in handy being type A sometimes, huh?”

Jake sighs. “I know you're making fun of me, but I could seriously kiss you right now.”

Maybe it’s the four drinks, maybe it’s the thrill that comes with how rarely she does this, or maybe it’s just sheer and wild impulse, but Amy finds herself whispering,

“Maybe we should get out of here, then.”

Amy learns a lot of things that night.

She learns that Jake Peralta is a seriously good kisser, tasting faintly of orange soda beneath the alcohol and salt, and that being pressed against his front door with his hands protecting her head strikes the perfect balance between feeling adventurous and safe. She learns that he’s never really quiet, soft moans and sighs filling the room in the breaks between their kisses, but that the sound only makes her want more.

She learns that he wears even more layers than her. Beneath the leather jacket and hoodie is a checkered blue flannel that has way too many buttons for her liking right now, and she curses her slight tipsiness while working at them one by one. When she's finally done, Jake pulls the grey t-shirt over his head, and she barely has time to pause to admire how he somehow can look fit despite that catastrophic diet, or the curls on his chest that are begging for her to run her fingers through them, before he's asking “my turn?”. She learns that Jake Peralta is impatient, that his hands work fast on the buttons of her cerise shirt, and that he gets adorably confused when he can't find the button on her suit pants.

“It's on the side,” she tells him and shows him the zipper, and then they're both giggling until she kisses him like that and it's back on again.

She learns that his hands feel good, sliding slowly up the sides of her stomach and back and rubbing against her shoulder blades. She unclasps the white t-shirt bra for him, smiling to herself as he swallows quickly.

“God, you’re hot,” he whispers, and the soft bites he trails down her chest and stomach make her feel that way, too.

They move to his bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind them, and then she’s underneath him and breathing hard as his mouth moves lower, closer. The anticipation of it all is driving her mad, but then he looks up at her and asks “okay?” with the most sincere and caring expression, and Amy’s had very, very few one-night-stands in her life, but she’s certainly never had one like this.

“Okay,” she nods, and there’s that familiar grin again, but this time it makes her feel warm in a very specific place.

She learns that Jake Peralta can do a whole lot more with his mouth than talking people’s ears off. His breath ghosts over her through her underwear at first, warming her up even though it’s barely even necessary, and then he’s finally pulling down the black material and helping her kick them off. His tongue is careful at first, just tasting her as if to gauge her expression, but then she nods at him to continue and the next second, her head is thrown back as she lets out a gasp.

She learns that he likes it when she pulls his hair. At first, her hands are just lightly tangling in it for practicality, but then she holds on tighter as a means of control when her legs begin to tense up and the familiar pressure is starting to rise. She’s raising her hips slightly only to lower them again, helping him get her there, and the curls of his hair are just begging to be pulled.

“Do that again,” he pauses to say, so she tugs his hair harder and he straight-up moans.

She learns that he can make her scream, which she wasn’t expecting, and she rocks through the euphoric waves and pants and practically melts into the bed as she comes down from it.

“That good?” He winks, and she wants to roll her eyes, but he did just make her come harder than she remembers doing in a long time, so she kisses the smile off of him instead, tasting her arousal on his lips.

She learns that he's respectful and a gentleman, telling her that they can stop this here if she'd rather, but she doesn’t want to, and they don’t. He has to rifle through the drawer in his bedside table for a while before he finds a condom – maybe he doesn’t do this as often as she’d thought, maybe it’s another sign of his poor organization skills, but he finds one soon enough so she’s not sure she cares – and then it’s a little bit of a blur, but she rolls it on him with precise strokes and lowers herself on top of him and oh my god.

She learns that when he looks at her, when he touches her, it makes her feel powerful and special all at once. He plays with her boobs as she sets the pace, his thumbs rolling against her nipples in a way she didn’t realize she liked, and she picks up her rhythm, clenching around him and leaning back on his raised thighs.

She learns just how enjoyable it is to watch him fall apart underneath her. His pace stutters and he curses, groaning a confession of how close he is, and she could almost come again from watching him alone but she brings two fingers to her clit and touches herself anyway. He finishes before her, spilling out inside the condom with a moan that she can only imitate, collapsing against his chest as she brings herself to orgasm again right after him.

When they're done learning, they collapse together in his bed. For a moment, Amy considers turning around and calling a cab home, because that would be the most responsible thing to do, but then Jake throws an arm around her to pull her closer, and after all, she's still a little tipsy.

What harm could it possibly do, anyway?

Sharp, unforgiving morning light wakes Amy up before her alarm the next morning. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she thinks, and rolls over on the other side so the light doesn't hurt her eyes. She expects the usual greeting of a sea of pillows, and has to stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when instead, she's hit with a wall of Jake sleeping with his back to her. A vague memory of them falling asleep like this hits her. He’d wanted to be the little spoon, she remembers.

At first, knowing that intimate fact about him makes her feel proud. Then it makes her panic.

She jumps out of bed, throwing off her part of the comforter in search of her clothes. She finds her underwear and bra together with her shirt, trying to dress as quietly as possible, quick before Jake wakes up and discovers that she's half-naked in his apartment and they have to have a very, very awkward talk –

“Amy? What are you doing?”

Too late.

She freezes on the spot, chewing on her lip as she fumbles for an explanation. Jake’s eyes rake over her with curiosity, which somehow feels a lot more exposing today than it did last night, and it's making her lose track of her words. His bed head curls and disoriented smile is decidedly not helping her focus.

“We slept together last night,” she manages.

Jake’s smile grows wider and prouder as he sits up fully in bed. Amy blushes as she notices the shadow of two hickeys way too close to his neck to be professional.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“Very funny.” She sees her pants thrown across the back of a massage chair and quickly reaches for them. “But this… You know this can’t be a thing, right? Just so we're on the same page about it.”

Jake frowns. “What do you mean with a thing?”

“This – us – we can't date, Jake. I know that. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment before he fakes a shudder. “Yeah, yeah, no. I’ve dated lawyers before. Never ends well.”

“You have?” The reveal surprises her. “It doesn't matter. This can’t happen.”

“I know.”

“Good,” she exhales. “I’m just going to find my clothes, then, and then I’m going to leave.”

“Hey, wait.” He twists his hands together, bringing them to his chin with a smile. “This is going to sound weird, but… even if nothing can happen between us, I’m still glad we had sex last night.”

The confession takes her by surprise, and Amy wonders again if she just doesn't know anything about one-night-stands. Sleep together, have fun, sneak out in the morning before anything can go deeper – isn't that how it's supposed to go? If so, she's majorly failing, because she can't stop herself from giving him another shy smile in return.

“Me too. Just because, we were like… really good at it.”

“Stupid good!” Jake exclaims. “It makes no sense!”

“We still can't date, though,” she reminds him. “So how do we work this out?”

“Well, it sort of looked like you were planning to just leave, and I’m not going to stop you if that's your choice, but… there is one more option.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We could be friends with benefits,” he shrugs. “None of the commitment, none of the weird incompatibilities between a cop and a lawyer, just us and some stupid good sex.”

“Friends with benefits? Do the kids really say that, still?”

“I’m saying you could consider it.”

Amy's first instinct is to protest, to say absolutely not and leave on the spot. Her relationship history may not contain that many names, but at least they’ve all been fairly straightforward and conventional. She's never done something like this before, and the mere idea of jumping into something so unknown with someone like Jake scares her shitless.

Then again, she's also never been with someone like Jake. Yesterday hadn't been a date, but it had still been better than all the awkward dinners and half-hearted walks she's been at since she broke up with Teddy a year ago. And the sex – well, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't already thinking of doing that again.

“There would need to be rules,” she says.

“Sure, we can come up with some.”

“I’ll write a contract.”

“We need a contract?”

“Yeah,” she decides. “If this is going to work, we need a comprehensive set of rules, and they need to be written down, because I don't trust you not to adjust them in your head last minute.”

“How am I attracted to you? But, fine.”

Amy shakes her head, closing the last button on the shirt that had been left unbuttoned until now. “So… I’ll put together a draft and bring it over tonight? Your place?”

Jake gapes at her for a moment like he can't believe what he hears, but then he nods. “I’m free.”

“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.” With that, she pulls on her socks and shoes, leaving before she can freak out again.

“Cool, cool,” she hears just before closing the door. “Friends with benefits. Cool, cool, cool, cool… cool.”

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #my writing #b99 #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fanfiction #MY FIRST AU PLEASE ENJOY #three more parts to come hahah but i'm only going to post one before the deadline #read on ao3 if you want line breaks since tumblr has ruined those

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dontloseyourpants · 3 years

Text

Stripped on Stage

A commission I received from @gaystripstories! You can also find him on Twitter here. And you can support him by buying his stories on Amazon here.

I'll out the actual story below the cut. It's about a cocky young Broadway bound hunk who has an embarrassing incident on stage during his big debut. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

Before the Show:

Hey, just wanted to stop by and wish everyone a great show!

A sea of blank faces stared up at him, but he kept plodding on to get the reaction that he desired. Walking further into the crowded dressing room, he finally stopped right behind me.

I miss the camaraderie of being packed down here with everyone… it’s so lonely having that dressing room upstairs all to myself. I usually just spend time before shows lying on my couch until first call.

Looking up, I saw his face forcing itself into what he thought was a genuine smile. For someone who was apparently a much better actor than our poor little show deserved, he really had such a hard time hiding his true emotions.

Roger Stilton had quickly made a name for himself on Broadway. A Julliard grad just like his rich father, he headed straight to Broadway and began booking any role he wanted. With leading man good looks, his slicked back dark hair, and a jawline that could cut steel, Roger actually could have earned his roles without daddy’s donations.

As I continued looking up at him, I realized two things. First, his blush was much too heavy for a theater as small as this one.

Roger, sit down- let me help you out a bit. Quickly standing up in my boxers and undershirt, I let him plop into my chair before wiping a makeup wipe across that beautiful face. Here’s a tip when you’re not sure how strong to make your blush- you have to see what it should be naturally and then add two swipes.

Quickly taking hold of the bottom of his t-shirt, I ripped it over his head to expose that chest to the whole room. His perky pecs and six pack abs were to die over, but for some reason, even with all of that narcissism, he didn’t like showing off his body.

See- that’s the color you want.

I saw his eyes connect with his reflection to see the blush covering his cheeks, and I added a bit of my powder onto his face to match. Grabbing his shirt, he just awkwardly held it in front of him before walking back out of the room with his parting words flung over his shoulder.

Well, let me let you get back to getting ready… I just love having a great ensemble behind me on stage.

I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. At least not for another week. He’d joined our show after workshops, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, he was the reason we’d gotten our residency at our off-Broadway theater. He was already booked for his next role in a few weeks in one of the larger theaters, but if I had anything to do with it, I wanted to put his name in the news for another reason. It was time to confirm the second thing that I realized once Roger walked in here.

Listen up. Every head turned back towards me this time, but unlike Roger, I could tell that they wanted to hear what I had to say. I had a couple of decades on all of the younger actors

around me, and they looked up to me since I’d give them actual advice. We’re a go for tonight. Raise a hand if you’re in.

Smiling to myself as I saw every hand quickly raise into the air, I knew that this would be one show that Roger or the critics in the audience would never forget. I don’t know if Roger knew that we’d picked up on it, but there was a lot of info that he gave away. He was using us as a launch pad for some serious acting cred, and we were using him just as much. And for weeks of workshops and performances, we existed together, but the last month had been different. He’d starters treating us as disposable ensemble members even if the small cast all had named roles. So, tonight, on the most important night of his run, we decided to get back at him. Looking up at the timer on the ceiling above us, I realized that it was almost time for our first phase of the plan.

Act 1:

Look at him- if he wasn’t such a huge ass, he could really be the next big thing. Sorry- all I heard you say was huge ass, and I got distracted.

Playfully slapping Sam on the arm, I kept watching Roger act as we waited for our cue. Our show was a new take on the classic murder mystery, and each night, Roger dramatically died on stage. The twist, the reason that we’d made it out of workshops, was that a new killer was chosen each show. The audience could return night after night and still get a new experience since we improved a lot and only kept core scenes consistent.

This was one scene that was always the same, so Roger felt confident enough to ham it up as he looked at the two women in Row 2: The New Yorker and New York Times. They of course had names, but Roger only knew them as the critics that he needed to impress. And he truly was acting his ass off… and that was quite a challenge. Those dark gray slacks were barely

stretched over that ample peach of a bottom, and I was reminded again that I was happy with the game plan. And as he placed his glass of water back on the table, it was time for round 1.

Natasha and Joslyn entered from stage left as Sam and I appeared from stage right, and in a flurry of motion, we began bombarding him with questions.

Sir, would you like the dinner menu?

Please.

Sir, would you like a wine list?

That’d be delightful.

Sir, would you like your water glass to be topped off?

Certainly.

Bending down, I poured the contents of my pitcher into his glass and across his chest. Oh monsieur, I am so sorry- let’s get you out of those wet clothes immediately.

Patting him down with the hand towel, Sam walked behind him and began unbuttoning Roger’s shirt. In utter shock, Roger just sat there staring at the pitcher that I’d laid down in front of him- the one that looked completely normal. In every other show, a special prop had been used that only held half a cup of water, but tonight, it looked like I’d grabbed the wrong pitcher from the props table accidentally.

There we go- we’ll have this dried and steamed before you even get the dessert menu… not that it looks like you eat dessert often.

He tried to cover his exposed chest as we left stage, but the tiny menu couldn’t cover much. If he pulled it down, he exposed his perky pecs with his dark brown nipples shining under the harsh lights, and if he pulled it up, you could see the happy trail disappearing into his pants. As we all stood offstage in one giggling group, we watched the switch flip over in his head. He

had just made the choice- he could either be embarrassed about being half naked on stage, or he could continue acting so that the critics would write about how he powered through adverse conditions. And he chose the second option… at least for now.

Act 2:

After improving some line about remembering that he had a spare suit in his car, he quickly walked off stage with his muscular back facing the audience. Once he disappeared into the curtain, he began quietly yelling for the prop master, but he was nowhere to be found. Also gone was the random rack of clothes that had been hiding in the wings for decades, so as he rushed around, Roger only had time to grab someone’s suit coat and walk back on stage.

Darling! Is it my birthday already? I thought I wouldn’t get my present until tomorrow.

With her quick change successfully completed unlike her costar, Natasha was in a skin tight dress and now playing Roger’s girlfriend. Walking circles around him, she began to massage his tense body, and it seemed to be having an undesired effect on his lower half.

Can I unwrap my present early?

I’m so sorry love, but the weirdest thing happened at dinner earlier. I had time to grab a spot of food before coming here, and then…

As he began to sit down, the small blazer completely ripped down the middle, and the ruined fabric fell in two pieces down each arm. Natasha was really hamming it up now as she jumped up from the prop bed to kneel in front of her blushing boyfriend.

I was joking before, but what else is about to come off? Did you somehow trade outfits with a stripper?

That time in the gym must have really filled out my shoulders.

Then flex for me, Romeo. Let me see that body that’s all mine.

Doing as told, Roger stood up and began to flex his muscles as he faced the audience. His tanned chest seemed to glow under the lights, and I heard the audience getting into it more now. If there were any repeat customers here, then they knew what normally happened here. Natasha would have her birthday party, and in the commotion, Roger would meet his demise. But that always happened fully clothed.

Roger’s biceps were glistening in sweat, and his trimmed chest hair was as well. He was breathtakingly gorgeous, and if only he wasn’t so cocky, we would have all adored him. As I saw that blush spread further across those beautiful cheekbones, I wondered if there was something more human under there. Just maybe…

Oh, I just can’t resist anymore- come ravish me!

With strength that I didn’t know she had, Natasha pulled Roger towards her as they fell into the throes of passion on top of that bed. The audience was losing it as Natasha’s legs comically kicked into the air before wrapping around Roger’s ample ass. She was kissing him all over as Roger tried to break free for his cue.

Oh honey, that special suit jacket wasn’t the only birthday surprise that I had planned. In fact…

And this is where everything went so, so right. Roger lunged into a standing position without even feeling Natasha’s fingers hook into the two small holes that had come undone on each side of his tearaway pants. I don’t know how he hadn’t noticed earlier that we’d swapped them out before the show, but they’d stayed together right until they were needed.

In comical slow motion, the back half of his pants fell to the floor as the front stayed gripped in her hands.

You got me exactly what I wanted!

As Natasha jumped to meet him, we all started streaming on stage, holding balloons and shooting party streamers into the air. The only one that was still was Roger who was somehow so very, very visible in the middle of all of this chaos. With his pants gone, he was now standing there in only his shoes, his nylon socks held up with leather garters on those strong calves, and an impossibly tiny pair of baby blue bikini briefs that were trying their hardest to stretch over his large frame.

We all took a cue from the audience and focused on Roger as he stood petrified on stage. His hands hung limply at his side, too embarrassed to even move them to cover up his impressive bulge and thick pubes that were showing over the stretched waistband. You could have heard a pin drop in the eerie quiet before one camera flash went off from the audience followed by several more. I saw our one underpaid usher try to stop the cameras, but it was too late.

Finally urged into action as he saw how many photos of him would soon end up online, Roger finally spun around to try to find his pants, his jacket- just anything to cover himself up with. Seeing the bed sheet that had been flung into the floor, he reached to grab it, but I was too quick and stepped onto it to keep him from getting it.

Standing back up, he had rage in his eyes as he looked at me, and he had no idea that even more photos were taken now of him. From the back, his tiny briefs had been wedged between those glorious cheeks, and he was exposing almost every inch of skin that he could.

It was you- you’re the one that did it!

He was about five minutes early with that line, but Roger’s embarrassment had finally taken over his need to impress the critics. That was usually what he said when he discovered who the killer was right before falling to the ground, but now, he was saying it to me even though Joslyn was the one who’d dropped the ‘poison’ into his pasta in the previous scene.

What are you talking about? It’s me- your best friend!

A best friend wouldn’t do this on the most important night of their life!

Reaching forward, he grabbed onto my shirt and yanked it apart. Buttons went flying as my own chest was exposed to the crowd. My mouth was trying to hard not to break into a smirk behind my trimmed salt and pepper beard as I backed away from Roger. Following me back under the lights, he just kept going.

You’ve always been jealous of me- my career, my body, everything! Do you know how hard I’ve fought for this? Do you?

He truly believed the words that he was saying even though he’d never had to go to an open casting call in a crowded building downtown. He’d never had to squeeze into a borrowed pair of LaDucas and dance for hours just to be told that they’d gone in a different direction. Oh no, Roger had never felt rejection like that which is what would make what happened next even sweeter.

He lunged at me, and we fell in a heap on the floor. The audience, even the return viewers, probably had no idea that anything had gone wrong. Everything we’d done had been in character, and only one thing would be able to prove to them that this show had gone off the rails.

Roger’s body was gyrating around on top of me, but he never landed a punch. He wasn’t angry enough for that, but he was too flustered to even know what to do. He couldn’t handle this humiliation, and he was just lashing out. And then, it all stopped. As we tussled, we both heard the pop and froze. It could have been anything, but we both knew exactly what it was.

The Final Bow:

And the award goes to Roger Stilton!

The cameras all swung towards him as he tried to duck down into his seat. This is not how he wanted awards season to go. He had just lost the Best Actor award for his starring role in Thoroughly Modern Millie, and he was about to go to the bar until he heard his name called again. Looking up at the big screen, he saw the category that he didn’t even know that he was nominated for- Best Quick Change.

With the DramaDesk award in hand, the late-night talk show host who had no business being here walked on stage. I was sitting on the side in the cheap seats, but I could still see everything. The last time that I’d seen Roger was when I’d been lying shirtless beneath him. I watched as he sat motionless in his chair, and he only got up once the screen started playing a video from that night.

He was kneeling on top of me, and as we wrestled, the tiny strap on the right side of his bikini briefs popped right off. With his ass aimed right towards the camera, his pendulous cock fell into view between his legs, and he tried to cover himself unsuccessfully with his hands. As he moved, the rest of his underwear fell apart and landed on my chest leaving him completely

naked.

Standing up, he kept spinning around, turning one way and then the other to hide his embarrassment. His hands were clasped over his manhood which left that ass completely exposed. His tight waist made his bubble butt even more impressive, and the untanned skin acted as a beacon for everyone’s eyes and cameras. I’d watched this scene dozens of times from the comfort of my own apartment, but as Roger walked on stage to confront the host, I realized that he probably had tried to forget this ever happened.

When Audra Macdonald won earlier, she serenaded us with a few bars. Roger, what do you plan on showing off to this crowd?

The crowd was going wild, but unlike that fateful night, the crowd was over five times bigger and full of people that Roger wanted to impress. He tried to put on a fake laugh and grab the award, but even from this far away, I could see how strong that blush was as the host kept going.

No seriously, I think we need you to show it off! What does everyone here think?

I let my cheer join the crowd as we egged him on, but he still wasn’t budging. And then, the host looked right at me, and I pinched myself to see if this was all a dream.

Do we need your old costar to come help out? He knows his way around this stage since he’s performed here a few times. Come on up!

The spotlight hit me, and now it was my time to feel a little shy. I’d been a background dancer here in a few awards show opening numbers, but I’d never been up there individually. Would my big break come decades later than it should have?

Stepping on stage, I saw Roger’s heart drop, and my nerves suddenly vanished. He let the host turn him around, and I realized that he was petrified again.

Make me change my mind, Roger. Why shouldn’t I expose you again for how you treated us on that show?

Tommy, please, don’t do it.

I could have been nice and joked around with him as we walked offstage to pretend like this was a planned bit. But, he messed up.

Roger, you didn’t even learn the names of your costars. My name is David- Tommy worked the sound board.

And before he could react, I grabbed onto those tuxedo pants and yanked them to the ground. The button ripped off easily, and they gave me no resistance before sliding down to his ankles. He’d learned his lesson from earlier and was wearing a pair of black trunks, but I still had a little bit of humiliation left to give him. I could and should have stopped there, but I didn’t. Grabbing onto his waistband, I pulled his undies to the floor and stepped back to let him have the spotlight all to himself like he desperately wanted.

His half-naked body was projected onto the big screen again but in real time now. His ample, untanned ass still jutted out from his athletic body, and as he tried to bend down and grab his pants, it jiggled with every movement.

Looking down into the audience, I somehow made eye contact with Jan, the critic that Roger always referred to as The New Yorker sitting not too far from where I’d been seated. As she began typing onto her phone, I realized that Roger would get that big headline after all.

#story

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jeonqqin · 4 years

Text

man up. [m] | pt.4

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: future smut, language, reader being followed at night, not much, Chan’s sexy ass arms?

A/N: the big day!! also there’s a little scene for binnie’s birthday (even though it was yesterday)

▸ request

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

—UNEDITED

Your mind was running circles around you, everything a blur.

Talking on the phone with Chan lifted your mood exponentially, but there was still something that ticked in the back of your head. With the way your conversation with Chan ended, you weren’t sure if you should’ve been jumping for joy or hiding away under your covers in hopes that no one would ever find you again.

“So, I was wondering,” His voice drawled over the phone.

You held back the urge to shiver in order to hear exactly what he had to say. Granted the wind had stopped, but the night air was slipping through the thin fabric of your clothes and making up for its absence.

“Yeah?”

You heard Chan chuckle—surprisingly enough it sounded nervous.

“Would you ever date a guy like me?”

And just with one question, you almost fell forward off of the swing.

“What are you saying?” You uttered, eyes staring out at the bright red slide in front of you that had been dulled by the darkness.

Chan cleared his throat, “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/n?”

You had said yes too quickly, not just in the sense that it was embarrassing, but also because after you hung up, it really occurred to you that you would be going on a date with Bang Chan.

A date.

Had you even been on a date before?

You wrapped your arms around your body as you contemplated the whole situation. It was dark outside despite the street lights, and even then, they were too dim to really be doing their job. But you hardly noticed, too immersed in your own head to worry about the dark or the possibility of meat-heads roaming around looking for their next meal.

Your skin prickled, your subconscious attempting to warn you about the shadow that lurked only a few feet away.

The date. It should be easy; smile, talk to him without vomiting, and be sure not to make a complete fool of yourself in front of the single most attractive man you had ever seen. Piece of cake.

You mentally cursed Minho for possibly scaring you for the rest of your young life. Could you hold it over him if his years of desensitizing you turned you into a lonely cat-lady?

No—he’d already taken that title, and you weren’t sure if the universe was ready to support two financial tragedies within the same family.

The sound of footsteps fell to deaf ears, the lights of the dorms were able to be seen from your place on the street, and there wasn’t a shred of dread in your naive body. Not even when the sound of sneakers padding against tar got closer—too close for comfort had you been paying any attention. Maybe you were too tired, or your head was too preoccupied to focus on the approaching body behind you.

Not until there was a hand wrapping around your mouth and another pinning your arms to your sides. In your shock, you could feel the flex of your aggressor’s biceps—he was strong, and it had your heart stopping in your chest.

You wiggled the best you could in his grip, but the man’s hold was too constricting, and you suddenly wanted to cry. How stupid could you have been to let something like this happen?

Your heart pounded in your chest as you plead against the calloused hand, your legs shaking like jelly. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear—mint, the one thing you could focus on was that his breath didn’t reek of alcohol like you would’ve assumed.

“Wow…” He released a breath with a small chuckle, and your brows furrowed.

The voice was familiar—

“You really are stupid. Do you realize that you would’ve been so dead if I wanted to like—take advantage of you and dump your body in a river, or something?”

You squirmed out of the stupid stupid strong arms of your stupid stupid ex-friend, you eyes set in a harsh glare as you brought your fists down on his firm chest.

“You fucking pig!” You screeched with rage, fists clenched even when he grabbed your wrists in between fits of laughter. You actually wanted to stab a knife into his eye. “I can’t believe you did that! I thought I was going to die, asshole!”

Changbin snickered with a mocking coo, “I know. Poor baby...”

“You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“Just think—” he released your hands, only to block the oncoming smack that you sent. “You won’t make this mistake again, stupid-head.”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around your body again and continuing forward, your pulse more intense than it had been before. “What if I had gone into cardiac arrest or something? You would’ve been fucked in more ways than one. Do you know what they do to rapists in prison?”

“Y/n,” Changbin chuckled under his breath, meeting your stride easily. “I didn’t rape you, in case you didn’t notice.”

“But if I died, that’s what it would’ve looked like! And suddenly you’re in concrete hell.”

Changbin shook his head. “God—just be more careful next time you decide to walk alone in the middle of the night. Call one of us or something.”

Guilt nawed at your skin, and you sent him a sulky pout. He was right. If something really had happened, you would’ve been fucked. Unless the guy was thinner than a twig and had a shit center of gravity, your chances of getting out of that kind of danger was unlikely. Damn Changbin and his infuriatingly true points.

You let out a groan as the boy beside you casually slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Fine. You’re right. Happy?”

Changbin’s head turned to you and he released another coo, his forehead pressing against yours and successfully annoying the shit out of you. How everyone else dealt with him was a true mystery.

He was supposed to be older than you?

The pitch of his voice raised, “Of course I am.”

You wrenched out of his grip, swatting away his reaching hand and stepping out of his range.

Perhaps there would be a murder tonight.

“Stop being a creep and act like a normal person for once, Bin.”

Without even looking back, you could feel the pout on his lips. But he only let out a quick whine before following after you, his hands stuffed into his jeans.

You had hardly noticed before, but he was dressed strangely—he was in a torn to shit grey t-shirt, multiple splotches of something black plastered across his torso just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, holes scattered everywhere exposing glimpses of his firm chest. The jeans weren’t any better, almost completely colored black by the same substance on his shirt, baring rips at the knees and not the ones you get solely for fashion.

“By the way…” You drawled, twisting around to rake your eyes over him one last time. “What were you even doing before this?”

Changbin glanced at his attire and shrugged, the smallest glow of red covering his ears. “I’ve been working on cars for some extra money.”

Your eyebrow raised. “At night?”

“It’s the only time I have free between producing new songs and school.”

Nodding you faced back towards the dark street in front of you.

Changbin had never sparked you as a manual labor kind of guy, let alone someone who could fix cars and get paid for doing it. But after taking a moment to think about it, it made sense. He fit the scene, so to say, and it somehow added to the edgy look he already had going on for him.

You didn’t know as much about your friends as you probably should’ve.

“So you guys actually got the recording room done? Are you and Chan using it now?” You asked nonchalantly, a terrible attempt to slide Chan into the conversation. Changbin must’ve known a few things about Chan that could help you quench your nerves for the upcoming date.

Changbin sent you a sideways look, letting you know that you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.

“Ah, Chan…” He hummed, the two of you finally getting close enough to the university to discern the different buildings. “What’s up with you two?” He asked hesitantly, a hint of a frown on his brow.

“Well—I mean, I like him a lot.” You fumbled for the right words, though you knew that Changbin wasn’t one to rush you. As annoying as he could be, he was a good listener. “And he just asked me out—”

“He did?”

Well, you thought he was a good listeners

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Earlier he asked if I wanted to go out on a date or something—”

“Or something?”

You shoved him to the side, though his heavy body barely moved an inch.

“Would you stop interrupting me? I’m serious.” You huffed, frustrated.

“I am too.”

You froze—huh?

Your eyes searched his for a moment, his words not as comforting as you wanted them to be, instead his questioning only made your stomach twist in more knots than they had been in before. You really didn’t know anything about Chan, and talking to someone who did only made you hesitant about continuing with this first date of yours.

Sure, you weren’t one to believe rumors about people you barely knew—but it was the fact that you barely knew Chan that made you so nervous.

“Well I’m a little surprised that Chan asked you out.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Uh…” Changbin paused, searching for his next words carefully with a contemplative hum. “It’s nothing bad. I mean, Chan’s one of the best people I know.”

“But…?”

He stopped to wait for you to run your student ID along the sensor, listening to the automatic click of the door and using it as a stall for time. He was trying to find the right way to word what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to blindside you, nor did he want to sabotage his friend by telling you something that might steer you away.

He waited for you to take a step inside the dorms before continuing with a hushed voice.

“Chan is… very selfless let’s say. He doesn’t really take the time to date per se. He’s work oriented. Not to say he hasn’t had girlfriends before, but they never really—”

“Became anything?”

That was what you had been contemplating. If the date went wrong, could you talk to Chan afterwards? Would he still be that person you could call if you wanted to step away from the world? You couldn’t find yourself feeling upset if that happened to be the outcome.

But with the small look of suspicion that Changbin sent, his brow curling upwards, you quickly backpedaled.

“He mentioned something about it while we were on the phone.” You rushed to save yourself.

Taking your answer without question, he stopped. You were both standing outside of your room, the quiet hallway encasing the both of you and chilling you to the bone more than the night air had. Changbin bit his tongue.

“Chan is an amazing friend. But I’ve never really seen him as a boyfriend before.” He sighed, scratching his cheek. “And as much of a little shit you are… I care about you enough to want you to be happy.”

“Is this you warning me?”

“No.” His mouth formed a thin line, he really had no idea how to word anything. It was beginning to frustrate him. “Just be aware that he isn’t the most observant guy when it comes to himself, so be patient with the guy.”

Okay, that helped you none whatsoever.

You sighed, pushing your dorm door open and nodding finally for Changbin.

“Well, thank you, Bin. For walking me and all that…”

Your gratitude was pitiful, but Changbin smiled wide nonetheless, glad that he could help you out despite his advice being absolutely terrible.

“Anytime, Y/n.” He ruffled your hair before you could stop him. “But next time, call me before you decide to be stupid and walk alone agian, okay?”

You smiled.

“Yeah. I promise, Bin. Thanks—seriously.”

As you closed the door, you missed the way Changbin’s lip quirked, his ears once again shining a red in the dim lighting of the hallway. He chuckled, shaking his head.

He wished both Chan and Jisung luck—you really were a handful.

“So this is a date?”

You had absolutely no idea what to say, your nervous gaze on the road in front of you as Chan glanced over at you from his place behind the wheel of his beloved Subaru Crosstrek—he had gone on a cute spiel about how he managed to scrounge up enough money from producing his tracks to afford the down payment on the car. It was cute only because he giggled every time he mentioned some miniscule detail that wasn’t necessary for the development of the story.

He always apologized when he got off track, but those were your favorite parts.

And you still had no idea what to say.

“Yeah, Y/n. A date. Have you ever been on one of those before?” He joked, taking another turn into yet another neighborhood.

He had to have gone down at least four streets already—

“Does a slow dance at a mediocre prom count?”

“A what?”

You snorted, feeling the telltale heat of your cheeks reddening. You were such a loser, the best you could do was tell him about your failed relationships?

“I mean, Jung Wooyoung was pretty hot, so I guess it could count. Granted, Minho stepped in before he could kiss me at the end of the song.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked close to ripping his cheeks with how wide his smile was stretching.

His eyes flickered to you and a shiver ran down your spine at the way he took one hand off the wheel and leaned against the center console. You were either terrified of him crashing or really turned on by the way his biceps bulged at the movement.

You cleared your throat, “Minho was always really adamant about keeping me away from all the funny business.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not. My brother sucks.”

Chan burst out laughing. “That’s why he pulled that, ‘what are your intentions with my baby sister’ act?”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. But he backed off so quickly, I was convinced that it was a joke.”

You nearly choked, your eyes widening as you suddenly threw yourself around to look at him, unable to feel surprised at the way he was already looking at you with a charming smile.

“He did what?”

“Yeah,” Chan shrugged, shifting back to look at the road. “I asked him why it mattered and he just kind of backed off.”

That was right—Minho was scared of Chan.

You would never forget that fun fact for as long as you lived, and it was all thanks to Bang Chan. It really had you rethinking the whole reason why you were nervous in the first place. Chan was the only person in your life that had managed to get rid of stress rather than add to it, and you were obviously worried over nothing. Chan was amazing.

And you were crazy.

You laughed, catching Chan’s attention, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips without you noticing. How you had managed to have him whipped within a matter of days was a complete mystery to him. But there he was, staring at your lips and risking his damn life while doing so. Chan was hopeful, he wanted things to go well this time, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure of that.

“Where are you taking me, you maniac?” You giggled in exasperation as he took yet another turn into a neighborhood, house stacked upon house.

Sure, it was nice to drive around with him, but you were beginning to get antsy. Even more so as Chan continued to look over at you and smirk, his smile as infuriating as it was attractive.

“We’re almost there, hold on.”

“That doesn’t tell me where—”

Turning down a dead-end, Chan lifted his hand to your mouth with an emphasized “shhh”.

Maybe he was a maniac and he was planning on killing you as soon as you reached the end of the street. You definitely wouldn’t be able to find your way back to the main road if he tried, so it was definitely a possibility.

“Don’t worry about it.” He hushed.

With a small scoff, you puckered your lips in a pout and they briefly brushed against the palm of his hand. With the action, your eyes widened as his head snapped your direction. Immediately, your lips pulled into a tight line, your stomach tying up in knots as he dropped his hand and let it fall to your thigh, causing your whole body to go ridged. What was wrong with you?

Chan chuckled, patting your thigh in an attempt to dissolve your tenseness, but it only proved to make your clothes feel much tighter than they had been before. You were physically going to melt into the seat with how hot you were getting, and you sure as hell hoped you weren’t sweating as much as you thought you were.

But the feeling of his hand wasn’t unpleasant—it was warm, but not so much that it was uncomfortable, which was surprising considering how your skin was close to melting off the bone. It simply rested there, occasionally he drummed a nonexistent beat against it with his first two fingers, though you suspected that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been doing that.

Without you realizing, he pulled the car into park, his eyes amused as he watched you stare at his hand for a little longer.

Something else—you definitely were.

“We’re here.” Chan said, lifting his hand away from your thigh to pull the key from the ignition.

You weren’t upset that he had moved his hand, but you couldn’t deny that disappointment had started to bubble up.

Looking out your window, you noticed that you were, in fact, at the end of the dead-end road. But instead of a dense thicket of trees or a mountain of concrete blocking it off, there sat a decrepit and grey building. The maroon of the bricks had been worn and chipped, and the large barn looking doors were rusted and close to falling off their hinges. You can tell that it had once been beautiful with the large stone bird watching over on a centered pedestal.

Chan opened his door to get out and you followed, despite how strange it might’ve been that he took you to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this?” You asked, almost shell shocked at the sheer size of the building as you both stepped closer.

“It’s an old fire station.”

Old didn’t do the place justice—every new fire station you had seen was pristine and white, large open door garages lining the first floor. The one in front of you was nothing like the ones in town.

“I used to live in this neighborhood before I moved to Sydney. I was very young and don’t really remember much about it, but I do remember this place.” He smiled, looking up at the two storied building. “When I came back I never expected it to be still standing after fifteen years. I thought the two would’ve torn it down and built a convenience store there or something, but nope, it’s still here.”

It was nice to see his face light up while talking about something he cared about. It was endearing.

He then grabbed your hand with a small wink and dragged you forward, though you didn’t put up much of a fight at all. Every part of you screamed about how nice his hand felt around yours, how his palms weren’t too calloused to be rough but enough to want them all over the rest of your body. His pale skin pretty with the contrast of his raised veins. Veiny hands were nice… You really were just reverting back to your horny high school self, weren’t you?

You cleared your throat.

“But why did you bring me here?” You questioned, looking warily at the back of his head.

You weren’t scared, but you were almost certain that a building that was decades old wasn’t a normal date site.

“Why not?” Chan shrugged, hoping to god that you couldn’t see just how terrified he was.

“Maybe because I was expecting to go watch a movie or go to a restaurant?”

He glanced back with a raised brow. “Do you want to do those things?”

“I’d rather chew off my foot,” you admitted, catching him off guard for a moment. “But I’m trying to make you feel like the weird one here.”

Weird one indeed. He had spent the entire night before without sleep, not coming up with a new track, but thinking of where exactly to bring you. He contemplated how to explain to you the reason why he was so exhausted and jittery was because he didn’t want you to leave the date thinking that he was some average guy. Chan didn’t want you to think he was boring. So he could be weird if it meant you wanted to see him again.

You shared a smile, both of your nerves fading away with each passing second. Of course, Chan had nothing to worry about.

He proceeded to pull you through the old rickety door of the station, completely ignoring the way the visible slivers of his chest flexed when he tugged the door open with one good yank. Now that you were actually thinking about it, his outfit was one of the best you’d seen him in; a simple black muscle tee topped with a heavy denim jacket, and his jeans whitewashed and ripped.

It was simple but effective considering you couldn’t keep your eyes off the strips of flesh that peaked behind his jacket. If only the autumn breeze had taken a day off.

The further the two of you got into the building, the more excited Chan looked. His eyes lit up and there was suddenly a bounce in his step. Not to mention the way his grip on your hand tightened to the point where he was nearly cutting off the circulation. But it was nice nonetheless. You didn’t have the heart to be upset with him.

Your eyes flew around to all the different old contraptions that must’ve been shiny in their prime. With torn hoses all over the place, and precariously placed pipes, you had no idea whether to be amazed that they hadn’t succumbed to the elements or terrified that if you took one wrong step you would fall and get impaled.

Looking over at Chan, you giggled as he began to unravel a wound up hose, momentarily releasing your hand to act like a complete child.

“So what was your plan when we got here? Get me in a secluded place so you could tie me up and kill me?” You teased, offering him a smile.

Chan wanted to do two of those three things—that was for sure.

“What? You don’t want to explore this magnificent building with me?” He asked despite himself.

“So you didn’t plan some elaborate picnic with candles and fancy homemade French food?”

Chan paused for a moment, lips fighting a smile. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. The hours of preparation was for naught, and Chan could care less.

He hummed, “Well if you mean a blanket on the floor and take-out, then yeah. No candles though. I have a bad feeling that if we were to light any fire within ten miles of this place it would turn to dust. Which would be pretty ironic considering it is a fire station—”

“Are you rambling?”

Chan froze, mouth open to deny your question, but found that it wasn’t completely false and shut it.

“...it’s probably cold too.” He added lastly.

You smiled.

“Sounds good to me.”

You then proceeded to struggle your way up a flight of unstable spiral stairs with Chan close behind—so close that his arms were almost completely around you. He assured you that it was only so he wouldn’t be at fault if you fell. But it felt nice whenever his chest brushed lightly against your back, so you let his lame excuse slide.

The food was, in fact, cold. But it was still good since you really couldn’t go wrong with traditional Korean food.

And so the rest of the evening played out, the two of you sharing pleasantries and learning about one another, with many cracked jokes about your brother and his friends, only strategically avoiding Jisung all together.

Chan went on about his story, how he had two younger siblings back in Australia and a set of loving parents that believed in each and every one of his dreams as he grew up, and supported his pursuit of becoming a producer. You bit your tongue, keeping your questions of “do you miss them?” and “do you still see them?” to yourself. Still, Chan seemed happy enough, you thought. Considering you would be miserable if you had to spend your time with someone who complained and sulked the whole time. You were glad he could talk about his family without falling into a pit of missing them.

That date was pretty perfect, despite its oddities.

Who knew someone could be a by-the-book romantic and an original dork at the same time?

Your own thoughts had you chuckling into your water, almost making you cough, but thankfully Chan hadn’t noticed, his attention too zeroed in on all the food in front of him.

“Oh shit—I forgot all about that thing!” He suddenly exclaimed, his eyes locked on a rusty fireman’s pole that ran up into a hole in the floor. Chan hadn’t even finished his (second) bowl of food when he jumped up and ran up to the death trap. The thing didn’t even have any padding at the bottom to protect someone from breaking their legs, and he was excited about that?

Suddenly, you let out a laugh—it was the kind that comes out unexpectedly and makes a loud, unattractive noise and it surprised you both. Your hand clamped down over your mouth on impulse before your shocked expression broke, a swarm of giggles leaving your covered lips and forcing a pink tinge over your cheeks. Chan could only stare at you in awe, trying to think of everything else that could beat your laugh in the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, but he came up blank.

“Come down the pole with me.”

His words had you freezing mid-laugh, eyes wide.

“What? No way am I doing that. What if I get pole burn?”

“Here,” Chan threw his jacket over your shoulders, surprising you with the flood of warmth cascading around you. “Now you can’t get pole burn.”

You pushed your arms through the arms of the jacket, silently relishing in the warm weight.

“Ah, look at you Romeo. I see that you’re trying to make up for all the years I missed going on dates. How romantic.”

“I try.”

With a wink, he was grabbing onto the pole all of a sudden and wrapping his legs around it. You barely had time to stare at the image of his thick biceps curling around the pole before he was descending down it with a laugh of his own. You leaned forward to watch him hit the floor, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He smiled up at you, the sight blinding.

“Your turn!”

“Did I ever mention that I’m kind of allergic to bad ideas?”

Chan snickered, leaning his hands on the pole and shaking it to show you just how “sturdy” the thing was. The wiggle and creak didn’t set you at ease, that was for sure.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You just watched me do it!” Was his genius response.

The night was beginning to just become you counting how many times Chan said or did something that made you think he was a child.

“Okay, I just don’t understand why you want me to go down this damn pole! Is it some right of passage or something? Do you only go out with the girls who have the balls to do something this stupid?”

“Slide down here and find out.”

He got you there. You really did want to find out.

So you bit the inside of your cheek and wrapped your shaky hands around the rust crusted pole. How Chan managed to do so so easily without sleeves was baffling and a little sexy for whatever stupid reason. You had a thick layer of denim protecting you, and you still felt like you were going to be filleted open.

“Don’t think about it,” he encouraged with a soft voice. “Just jump. I’ve got you.”

And at the words of a poet, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, taking a step off the wooden floor and letting gravity pull you down. You could hear the rust tug and catch on the fabric of Chan’s jacket, but only for a second, because it only lasted a second before you felt hands grab your sides and pillow your impact. A surge of adrenaline had you breathing heavy as Chan cheered lightly in your ear.

“There. You did it.” He poked your forehead with a chuckle, getting you to open your blown eyes. “You have successfully completed the initiation.”

Your heart felt heavy and beat hard against your ribs as he straightened you out, hands finding purchase in his jacket. Subtly he was admiring how you looked in his clothes, but he would never admit that sappy fact to anyone.

You smiled; admittedly shakily. “Ah, yes. Validation. My favorite.”

Chan admired how you could keep releasing quips despite your fear. You weren’t one to be deterred, that was for sure.

“You have an unlimited supply of sarcasm in you, huh?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t run out yet.”

He smiled and you smiled, it was a good moment—the best of the day. A moment where you were glad you listened to him and literally took the leap. Ready to take another one, your eyes dropped to his lips and his dropped to yours.

And he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You weren’t completely caught off guard, but you definitely were. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied with fiddling with your fingers found your face, palm cupping your jaw and urging your head to tilt to meet his kiss better. It was gentle, as you had expected from Chan, and you were thankful for that.

His lips were softer than you expected and you prayed that the hand that held your cheek wouldn't be able to feel the way your face was burning. The way he intertwined your fingers was more intimate than the kiss itself and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting light-headed. You lost yourself to the way your shared breaths echoed around the large room every time your lips separated only to reconnect again immediately.

Your first kiss—well, your first real kiss. Surely that one you had shared with Kang Chanhee back in your first year of high school didn’t count. You had only gotten away with it since Minho was home sick that day, anyway.

It was much warmer than your last kiss, that was for sure. His jacket kept you shielded from the cold air and his body secreted a natural heat that had you pressing closer, which in turn sent him a signal to push forward as well.

Suddenly, his teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh of your lip, pulling a taut gasp from your throat.

The noise had Chan withholding a groan, pushing him to break the passionate exchange, his hazy eyes meeting your wide ones.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice small and unsure.

He could see the way your lips shined with not only your spit but his own. In some sick and twisted way, he was pleased to see the redness that the kiss brought to your puckered lips. It was satisfying. It was a sort of claim, and he was proud to hold it.

"Nothing. Just admiring my work." He grinned.

You hardly had time to register his words when the hand wrapped around yours was used to yank you forward, Chan’s mouth finding yours once again in a quick peck, leaving you just about a hundred degrees warmer than you originally felt.

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Amphibia Weekly Reviews: Spider-Sprig/Olivia and Yunaan: Look What Happens, Nightmare Time

Hello all you happy people! I”m Jake, I review stuff and things and it’s that time of the week again. And i’m actually on time this week!

And good thing too as this is the big one as Sprig Fights Brad Garret! Oh and of course we finally get some huge answers in the main plot, some gold old fashioned nightmare time, and a name we’ve all be waiting for. Sadly it’s not Mr or Mrs.B’s as Jeff apparently isn’t his name. God dammit show this isn’t told from the prospective of a 6 year old and his stuffed tiger sidekick, we need parent names! But it’s time to figure out whose been watching us this whole time and if a hero can save us, so i’m not going to stand here and wait. Join me under the cut for a full review with spoilers.

Spider-Sprig: Behold the Fantastic Frog Man!

I’ll admit I was excited about this one, as I telegraphed back when I talked about the solicit for this one: I love spider-man, I love superhero episodes, and I loved the concept of Sprig taking up a superhero identity to put his natural frog ablities to use. The costume helped, clearly taking from Spidey’s own prototype outfit in the mcu, but using the blue beetle’s color scheme.

So it's not a huge shock I liked this one. It’s an eleven minute fun romp about Sprig as a superhero fighting comedy legend Brad Garret while throwing a bunch of nods to the Rami Spider-Man movies I grew up with. No outright homages but the villians design, the sketching scene and the big bus scene all scream to me that Braly and Co were big fans of Rami’s films. This episode may not be the emotional flex the previous slice of life episodes this season has been, but it’s still a hell of a treat and a nice fluffy episode before we get to the utter nightmare waiting in the second episode this week.

Being more of a fun side episode, this one naturally has a pretty simple setup: After a fun intro where our heroes watch a tokusatsu style superhero film about a bug man who fights for those who hate and fear them, eventually earning their acceptance because of their noblility (Basically x-men meets kamen rider... or that weird one season spider-man show if you prefer. You do you), Sprig longs for his own glory on earth like Anne got at home. Problem is things are vastly diffrent: Anne was in an isolated backswamp town, in a world pre communication and whose only goverments are a bunch of toads they fought for moral reasons anyway, and a king who left day to day managment of the smaller towns to said toad while he worked on his evil master plan, and who at most would’ve brought anne to them right away had he found out about her, as she was vital to his plans and his manipulation of marcy. In constrast Sprig is stranded in LA, one of the biggest and most populous citeis in america, in a world where a picture can go up for everyone to see in minutes and spread like wildfire like that. Even before they had a fabulous beauru of investigation agent on their butts, it wasn’t remotely safe for them to be public with what they are. It’s undrestandable Sprig also wants to be accepted for who he is but it’s just not fesable. So far only a select group of people know and all of them found out by accident, and it was just lucky that Dr. Jan, the IT GIrls and the entire thai community of Anne’s part of LA happened to be very good people.

Sprig isn’t satisfied though so he decides to become a superhero himself, and we get a very Sam Rami Spider-Man style costume sketching sequence before he puts together his outfit, becoming FROG MAN! Probably more of a Frog Boy but eh, Peter was 15 when he called himself spider-man, and miles is doing the same at the same age so fair enough. We also get some fun with Polly as she’s not a fan of the superhero genre, poking fun at alll the backlash superhero movies get from a section of the online community, and we get the best exchange of the episode tha talso sums up the superhero genre in a nutshell

Polly: You can’t fix systematic problems by putting on a costume Sprig: Watch meeeeeeee

Sprig goes on patrol and spies a cranky old man in the neighborhood giving some kids a citation for having a lemonade stand. Why is it every saftey monitor in Disney history after Filmore is a power hungry dickhead? I mean it’s only been really two, Elliot and this guy, but it’s weird it happened twice. This lovely person is Robert Otto, the local saftey guy for the neighborhood who doesn’t take kindly to vigilantes. As I haven’t remotely hidden he’s voiced by Brad Garrett, a comedian I genuinely love and admire whenever he pops up despite avoding his breakout role in everybody loves raymond like it was tetnus.

He also proves to be a bit of a gloryhound, trying to stop a runaway bus with his face and only making it worse. Sprig thankfully pulls an aweosme webbing style stunt by wrapping his tounge into a web and using it to harmlessly bounce the bus. God damn , I didnt’ know amphibia frog tounges were that long or had that much prenhinsile strength. This naturally gets our hero the praise he deserves..and even more naturally makes Robert entirely jealous, especially when Bobby Jo, a ten year old or so from his beat, walks right by the guy to thank Sprig.

Sprig lights it up, doing good deeds across town and even showing up on Conan before he closed up the show. Anne finds out and flips her bushy hair while sprig is getting more and more self absorbed, becoming more and more booster goldish, ironic given whose color scheme he’s borrowing.

Robert meanwhile gets the supervillian origin story you all knew was comiing and not just because the trailer spoiled some things, stewing in a junk yard and finding the Annsterminators arm, which now it’s detached fits perfectly on robert’s arm and gives him an extending arm with lasers. Robert decides to get his revenge and puts on a trench coat and green goggles, clearly aping the Spdier-Man 2 versoin of Doc Ock. His last name is even a nod to the good doctor, while is first is a nod to Brad’s role from that show I don’t watch.

So the next day Spirg is basking in the attention when Robert attacks, clearly mad Raymond dosen’t call him anymore, and Sprig is excited for his first superhero battle. Said battle... is fucking awesome as all the series fights thus far has been, and perfectly gets the astetic and pacing of a good superhero fight.. while also not glossing over the colatteral our hero and his nemisis leave in their wake. We also get a fun bit where the two strike a pose with kicks and everything.. only to recoil in pain.

The two fight and wreck up the place for a while before Bobbi Jo calls BOTH out, citing how the two aren’t heroes, and are just wrecking up the place. And she has a point: Sprig COULD’VE tried talking Robert down to avoid a fight first, and then would’ve been in his rights to have the fight. While in most supervillian cases their attacking a city or something, Sprig was the sole target here and could’ve lead Robert away from civlians like most superheros would. Instead he priotized getting a cool fight over people’s saftey. And robert.. well he’s just an asshole woh felt overshadowed by an 11 year old and wasn’t disliked because Sprig showed up: he was disliked because he treated people like crap and took his job way too seriously. Robert COULD have used his new powers for good and to genuinely help people but CHOSE to attack sprig instead.

This gets sprig to wake up and smell the cup of roasted coffee, and he apologizes to Bobby Jo and decides to fix the collateral damage, which Robert also agrees to. The two successfully fix what they broke and Sprig makes a new friend in Bobby Jo while Robert will probably make some neat new friends in jail for property damage. They can teach him how to make a shiv, how to make toilet wine and how to deal with a corrupt overcrowded system that treats him like cattle. We wrap the episode with Sprig talking to Anne who gets ready to chew him out , but Sprig’s already learned his lesson and admits he made things worse, and Anne realizes she missed a hell of a day so she lays off.. until Sprig admits he cut up her clothes to make the outfit. Oh that Sprig.

Spider-Sprig is just pure fun: it stilll has some neat character work but it’s mostly about just having a great premise, some fun actoin and a good moral in being a hero because it’s the right thign and not for the glory. It’s a simple one but a good one for a superhero story. I also hope Sprig wears that scarf again because that scarf is dope.

Olivia and Yunnan: OH GOOD GOD

So from a fun, sweet little superhero pastiche to pure fucking horror. I mean ther’es SOME jokes but this is easily the darkest the series has went and keep in mind the last season ended with a child being stabbed in the gut on screen. This episode somehow manages to TOP THAT. You can probably tell that just from the image above that this one probably need a content warning it didn’t get which is strange both because of the whole True Colors debacle.. and said debacle giving them a content warning they can already use. Maybe they didnt’ want to blanket it over the whole episode, maybe sci fi stuff gets a pass I don’t know but this one is fucking brutal. You’ve been warned. Let’s get into the nightmare time shall we?

So we open with a flashback to 5 and a half months ago: We see Marcy on crutches after falling down some stairs, getting her first good look at the world and it’s majesty. We also get some more depth to Lady Oliva’s character: as it turns out she’s from a long line of servants to the crown who have done so to protect this sacred land and it’s beauty from those who’d harm it. Marcy vows to help her do so in return.

Naturally as you’d imagine this leads to a gutwrenching smash cut to how badly things have gone since as her ladyship looks out.. and sees things have gotten really SATAM really fast, with Andrais having strip mined the once beautiful nature of amphibia to build more factories. Seriously given Matt is a sonic fan and just how much the scenery, complete with toxic waste barrels, reminds me of SATAM, I can’t imagine this was a concidence. I can however want him to do a sonic show after the upcoming one wraps as I think he’d be awesome at it.

Her Ladyship is naturally pretty crushed to see everything she protected her whole life, everything she worked for die for a man she greatly respected but now wholly fears. And what a coincidence Andrais has one of his frogbots ask Olivia to go see him, where she runs into Yunan. Turns out neither has talked to him since Anne disappeared, as he’s been cooped up working on his plans.. and when they find him he’s not doing great as he’s trying to convince his master NOT to use Marcy for whatever dark purpose the thing has in mind, which to them looks like he’s gone mad.

He has some new jobs for them though: He needs Oliva to oversee the factories as they finish strip mining the planet and Yunan to capture some frogs to help run his factories. Likely while he can run them with just robot labor, it’s likely more effective to use the frogs as easy slave labor and save the robots for more conquests. He also tells them to give anyone who tries to stop them a stern talking to.. JK he wants them to die slow die fast now.

Naturally being asked to directly oversea the anthises of everything she’s worked for her whole life after only staying this long because she had no choice is the last straw for Olivia who decides to openly defy the king. Yunan wonders if she’s really talking treason.. before whisking her away... not in the fun way but because talking about it directly in front of his throne is kinda dumb. But Yunan agrees. She didn’t sign up for this madness or a mad king and agreees to whatever Lady has planned. Olivia figures they need an actual stratgest for this; Olivia herself is clever but clearly was outplayed by Andrias himself and knows it and Yunan is good at stabbing thigns, sneaking around and doing that thing with her tounge olivia likes, but not so much strategy. She’s an arrow, she needs someone to guide her shot.

That someone is Marcy. Yunana isn’t enthused since 2/3 humans they’ve met are outright traitors, including Marcy but it’s clear Olvia sees the bigger picture: Marcy didn’t betray her friends out of malice, but out of pure desperation. She’s not going ot betray them especailly because none of this trio had any idea what Andrias was really up to. He played ALL of them. And since Olivia clearly dosen’t know how to outplay them and Yunana really dosen’t, they need someone who at least has a chance of doing so. Oliva is able to get Yunan to agree by saying she can’t POSSIBLE get them into the castle depths without being scene. Her response is exactly what you’d expect

Oliva heads deeper underground, there’s too much panic in this town, into the forbidden section of the castle we saw back in the slumber party ep. We also finally get some contexxt for the creatures down here, or at least the start of it: turns out while unsettling their all harmless, with a moss man even giving Yunana a flower as a token of friendship> Turns out this si where the previous royaltiy used to store their interdimensional prisoners, and thus the moss men and phantoms come from other worlds. This also might explain the skipman as that might of come not from earth itself but another world with similar tech.

Our heroes continue their descent into the creepy basement, and unknowingly get spotted by a thousand eyes watching them all through the night as they find Marcy’s pod. After yanking her out Yunan tries slapping Marcy awake, then procedes to shake her like a polaroid picture. While Oliva reconsiders having kids with Yuann she properly helps Marcy recover with some tea and a blanket. Marcy is straight up high , likely because the pod had her on a shit ton of sedatives.

The trio try to leave.. but turns out the Watcher with a Thousand Eyes, while stuck in the wall isn’t defensless and pumps some mist into the area before taking our heroes to what appears to be outside.. and into their greatest nightmares. First up is Oliva who faces the greatest nightmare of all: parental disapproval. Specifical her own deep seated fears she’s failed her mother and her family legacy by letting Andrias strip mine things. While she has had no way to stop this till now, guilt isn’t remotely rational. The Watcher kicks it up a notch by turning her mom into a corpse tornado with nasty crooked teeth. I.. I have no jokes here this thing is legitly disturbing and well deisgn.

Marcy starts to regain cohernce and notices that the fears being genorated are holograms. That dosen’t make it any better for Yunan though as she’s up next and encounters a grubhog!

While this is a joke for a second Yunan has good reason to fear the thing as she had an incident as a kid where one shoved her entire arm in it’s mouth. I’d be scared too.. and given the pattern set by Oliva’s nightmare, the grubhogs quickly turn into horrrifying monsters straight out of HR GIger’s 2nd grade notebook.

Marcy tries to logic things out.. but ends up in her own personal hell. And unlike the other two, which revealed more about their pasts and characters, this time we know EXACTLY whose waiting for her: Anne and Sasha, who in Marcy’s nightmare won’t forgive her for what happened and the turn into a horrifiying two headed merged abomination.

Thankfully this unreleased nightmare on elm street sequel gets a repreive as Yunan happesn to bump into one of the projectors.. the eyes on the wall themselves. Marcy quickly advises them to take them out and our heroes face their fears by punching them in the throat.

So with that our heroes can escape and everything is better and i’m just lying to make myself feel better because what happens next.. is easily one of the most disturbing things i’ve seen in a kids cartoon. And I grew up with the rugrats where angelica is tormented by a deep voiced nightmare of her possible future sibling, i’ve seen things.

Andrias shows up to stop them, because as it creepily turns out the watcher didn’t tap into their brains or anything as it’s revealed Andrias had one of it’s eyes in his crown.. and it’s been watching our heroes this whole time. And if you thought that was creepy you aren’t ready as the Watcher itself descends shreiking like a metroid boss and throughly disturbing our trio.

We also finally find out just what the hell this thing IS and what it’s real name is: The Core. After decades of research, using the mossmen’s medical technology and some unknown one aquired from the phantom beasts, Andrias’ ancestors found a way to stop death. The Core is a hivemind, a collection of amphbia’s greatest minds working in unison for their horrifying grand design, whatever it may be. I’ll still call it the watcher with a thousand eyes sometimes both because I love that refrence and because the Core.. is kind of a weak name. It’s not TERRIBLE but for something this horrifying and powerful, for what’s clearly going to be the final boss of the entire series.. it’s pretty mundane.

It then horrifyingly yanks marcy into a thorne it has set up, something it and Andrias have been working on. Even having been spoiled by the Season 3 trailer, serously they should NOT have included that shot... it’s still utterly horrifying as Andrias explains thing: his master needs a vessel and while he TRIED to get it to take someone else, revaling that as warped as the man is he does care about her in his own twisted way, but she was too perfect a vessel: someone smarter than even the cores greatest servant and the reason they’ve gotten this far.

So with Yunan and Oliva looking on in horror we get the scene: marcy desperately struggling to no avail to break free as a crown slowly descends on the poor girl.. before we get some sharp constrast shots as it descends on her and she screams in pain, only blacks and reds as we watch her agony.. before a signal shot of the poor child SCREAMING as she’s engulfed in flames, soon after red ones and zeros fillign her suit.

Oliva asks what the hell the Core’s plan is.. and Andrais says it can now tel lher itself.... as it sickingly makes some cracking nosies and smiles, saying hello and saying goodbye to marcy.

We end on some red text over some ominous music as even Matt wasnt’ dumb enough to put the cheery and fun season 3 end music after.. that. Good... christ. It’s an amazing sequence but just.. shit. Fucking shit.

Olivia and Yunan is one of the season’s best thus far, an utterly horrifying episode that slowly builds up dread and shows just how bad things have gotten back home and what’s at stake should Anne and her rag tag bunch of misfits fail to stop Andrias and The Core: desolate worlds strip mined of life to keep the conquest going. And there’s no telling if there will be any amphibia LEFT even if they win. And somehow they manage to go from that to make it evne worse, taking one of the most beloved characters in the setting.. and putting us through her utterly horrifyiing possesion by an utterly creepy enemy. The reveal the watcher is a hive mind is an intresting one, somethign I can’t wait to see more of.. even with the circumstances.

Next Time: THANK FUCK nothing as traumatizing.. I hope. Hop Pop goes to Hollywood to act and stuff and Anne may have found a way back. More plot stuff but not.. THIS. And given the descriptoin for the holiday episode.. I feel it’s only a matter of time till anne meets this new abominatoin using her friend as a meat puppet. *Shudders*. If you enjoyed this review follow me for more, and feel free to join my patreon

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#amphibia #spider-sprig #spider sprig #olivia and yunan #brad garrett #spider-man #sam rami #sprig plantar #polly plantar #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #king andrias leviathan #the core #lady olivia #general yunan #disney channel

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blue-bird-kny · 3 years

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How You Spend Days Off

I stuck to only the three main peeps, but I’m looking forward to writing for more JJK characters. It was actually really nice to write for them, so I hope you enjoy~Amanda

P.S: Be safe out after dark!

Warning: N/A

( 2.1K+ words)

↳{shenanigans you and your S/O get up to on days off}

Yuji:

Days off with Yuji are unpredictable and always either involve something thrilling and very energy consuming or it can be some of the simplest things a person can do- no in between.

Yuji usually is the one who makes plans during your spare time (though he always gets your opinion, of course), he just really values time with you and wants to experience so much together while he can

It was common knowledge that this coming Friday, all the students would have the time off to rest as a reward for all their hard work with the recent influx of curse activity. Yuji wasted no time in planning the perfect day together, from the moment you woke up next to him to when you both fell asleep, he had something ready.

“Ah that was delicious Yuji, thank you” you cheered, arms stretched high above your head in an attempt to work away the sleepiness the food had made you feel. “No problem! Only the best for you, princess” Yuji’s smile reached past his shining eyes, thrilled you enjoyed the assortment of plates and bowls filled with your breakfast favorites he’d surprised you with. “Well then, my prince, to what honor do I owe your company today?” you asked leaning against your balled fist and bent elbow on the table, amusement and adoration laced on all your features. “For one day only, yours truly scored us tickets to…! Drum roll please!” Yuji posed dramatically, eyes cast down while crouched and pointing in a funny manner.

You proceeded to bang your fist against the table, laughing lightly, “We’re going to spend all day at Monster Con!” he pulled out two floppy pieces of paper from his back pocket as you gasped, “Oh I’m not finished yet, princess, we’ll also be wearing matching costumes I hand selected” You stood quickly, clapping at his theatrical performance as he bowed, repeating, “Thank you, thank you”. You made your way to infront of the boy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he enveloped your waist tightly, pressing you against him. “Not going dressed as your pesky alter ego, huh?” you joked staring up at the taller kid, earning you a slight pout, “No, he’s not invited” he grumbled. “Sorry, that joke was in poor taste” you apologized, shifting to run your thumb along his juted bottom lip to smooth out the lines.

“No worries, I know ya didn’t mean anything by it” your hand stayed cupping his cheek, both star-filled eyes trained on each other as you both wore the cheesiest grins. Just as you stood on your tip-toes to close the space between each other, a warm gust of breath blew against the palm holding Yuji still, “I was wondering why you hadn’t spoiled the moment” you sighed, lowering yourself to lean your forehead against Yuji’s chest instead. A small mouth carved into its host cheek frowned, now free to speak without your hand suffocating it, “I can handle the women’s teasing, however what have I done in my many lifetimes to have to suffer through this painful love-sick puppies act” Sukuna complained. “Many things actually” you responded, muffled by Yuji’s shirt that smelled of a citrusy-warm blend you couldn’t get enough of. “Why do you always kill the mood?” Yuji groaned up towards the ceiling, earning himself a scoff from the demon king. “Oh? You mean like that I wouldn’t let y-” “SHUT UP!” Yuji slammed his hand against his own face to silence the man, his cheeks inflamed.

Now clad in matching costumes, you as frankenstein's wife and Yuji as Frankenstein, from the hair to the clothes to the make-up, you both spent the day without any further hiccups; how Yuji kept Sukuna at bay, you didn’t know, but I didn’t really matter. The stares from passengers on the train to the convention center was obvious to everyone but you two, lost in your own little love-sick world of old-fashion horror movies, delicious food, and pure, unfiltered content.

Megumi:

Megumi is a simple guy who likes simple things; he’s overworked and more exhausted than he even realizes, however he doesn’t acknowledge that...ever. In fact, you could run a mile ‘too quickly’ by his standards and he will have you take a break and drink his bottle of water (though you had your own and he knew that).

On your rare days off together, Megumi would silently stick to you like glue; he wants to do something for you in the creative way Yuji does and definitely wants to spend the time with you, but he can never come up with a complete idea of how to ‘wow’ you.

Except you didn’t need to be wowed, in fact you really were burnt out, so when the day came when you had nothing to do but be together, you planned a whole day of nothing with a side of Netflix and take-out.

You knocked on the door to Megumi’s dorm that was just a few paces away from your own. It was almost noon and you still wore your pj’s from last night, cookie monster shorts and an old shirt of Megumi’s you took last week, having made no attempt to fix your hair. “Umi~!” you whined, banging on the door a little harder, the plastic bag from the convenience store rustling at your side. “Coming” Megumi opened the door in a similar state; pj’s still on and hair sticking in even weirder directions than normal.

“Mornin” you greeted with the faintest grin, “sorry to wake you” “ I was just getting up” he yawned while he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Sure I can tell by the bed head” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the boy. You waved the bag of goodies in front of his face, “Let me in, I’ll make it worth your while~” he chuckled, “I doubt it” despite his words he stood to the side, letting you past and closing the door behind you.

His dorm was dark and a little stuffy, clearly Megumi hadn’t had time to do the in depth cleaning the little neat-freak was so fond of. The continents of the bag clacked together and scattered around as you tossed it onto the small table in the corner, making your way over to his comfortable futon that smelled of his signature eucalyptus soaps. You flopped about for a moment, stretching, snuggling into the sheets still warm from Megumi, who was watching the small scene from the door, “C’mon Umi’ I wanna get through at least two episodes of SVU before we inevitably fall asleep wrapped in each others arms” you called dreamily with lidded eyes, already tired again as you buried beneath his sheets and pillows.

Megumi could feel his chest ache and stomach flutter at the image of the one who he cared for so much that it physically hurt laying there in his bed with soft, kind eyes just for him- it was almost too much. “Umi, I will eat all the sour snakes if you don’t come over here, your sheets are getting cold” Megumi was cut off by his own thoughts of admiration by your voice. He chuckled at the cute way your face cringed a bit at the sour-sweet taste of the candy before sliding into bed too, your head laying on his chest as he held you close. A small, genuine grin spread across his lips as the sound of Netflix starting rang from the TV, holding you even tighter, ‘this is perfect’

Nobara

Be ready to put on your best dressed because you and your girlfriend are hitting the town! Of course Nobara would find her way into the city whenever she could, foreign to the endless wonders the busy streets had to offer and luckily for her, you happened to be far more native with the many sights to see.

She’d let you sleep in, holding you tender as she traced her nails across your skin to form intricate patterns until you woke. You both would totally be the couple that wears matching outfits, the same colors and patterns tailored to your personal styles- of course this would also lead to thousands of pictures for Nobara’s instagram.

You two would laughed, eat delicious foods, and would spend way more than either of you cared to admit nor did you want to because the price of absurd, unfiltered laughter and the feel of just a good time, was one both of you could pay a thousand times (and a new pair of shoes too)

The sun hung lower in the sky than it did when you started this little adventure before noon, having been sold on the idea by Nobara that she “only needed a few things” this morning. Now, exhausted perched on a steel chair outside some cafe you’d never heard of with your sore feet elevated on the other empty one you waited for your girlfriend who was inside somewhere.

“Jeez even my fingers are cramped” you groaned flexing your numb digits; shopping was a grueling vice because no matter how much you’ve already bought, more cute sweaters, tops, and matching accessories called to you by name and the art of saying ‘no’ wasn’t exactly in Ms.Kugisaki’s vocabulary. “Here ya’ go babe” Nobara emerged from the shop with two cups, handing one to you before sipping gingerly from her own. You brought the plastic straw to your lips, sighing in relief as the contents quelled a thirst you didn’t even know had been building up. “I don’t think we did too much damage” your face fell and eyes bulged, flailing your arms out around at the brightly colored parcels that littered the table and surrounding floor, “Nobara there are at least fifteen bags here”

She laughed, her hand falling on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, “Still no that bad”. She scooched her chair closer to yours, her thumb rubbing nonsense circles into the denim of your jeans, “What next?” she asked leaning into her seat, her brown irises watching yours fondly, “Food? We haven’t eaten since a lot earlier and I could turn into a wolf any second and eat you” you teased, though food sounded better and better the more you thought about it. “Eat me? You promise, baby?” Nobara’s smirk earned herself a not-so-graceful, but light kick from you.

“An impromptu picnic sounds great” Nobara decided, tapping against you in finality. It became a game: You both had 30 minutes to run around the delicious food district to pick out each other's favorites, as many as you liked (which would be more food than two can eat), then you’d reconvene at the same cafe. Nobara offered to pick up a blanket at the convenience store because she ‘knew you so well she wouldn’t need the whole half hour.’ The game was on and time was ticking as you both rushed in opposite directions with several bags and a hunger to please the other.

You scurred around each vendor, selecting different meat dishes and veggies, cakes and watermelon, and even splurged on some fancy sushi from the place she'd wanted to try. Your arms quivered under the weight of the many shopping bags and take-out boxes, but you were determined to get back first. “Just around the corner- Are you kidding me?!” you yelled. In the exact steel seat she sat in earlier, was Nobara with an array of bags around her, boxes and the blanket stacked neatly on the table with dark sunglasses adorning her face and her legs crossed cockily as she spoke smoothly, “Beat ya”

Both of you grossly overestimated the amount of food you could eat in one sitting as practically unopened boxes lay stacked on top one another on the blankets while watermelon rinds and used plates were thrown into a garbage bag. The sun was low, almost at the horizon, painting the sky in pastel oranges and pinks with hints of purple and blue; the spring chill had blown a little heavier now that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to stop the shivers. Nobara laid against the trunk of a tree with you between her legs, holding you as her manicured fingers idly massaged your scalp quietly- you would have fallen asleep at the small gesture had you not been actively keeping your eyes open. “The boys will be grateful for the food, I’d hate wasting it” she yawned to which you only hummed.

“Hey” you turned your head up slightly, only enough to meet her gaze, “today was really fun” she smiled, slithering across your arm to grab your cheeks gently in her fingers, forcing your lips to pucker, “yeah it was.” Your wobbly smile made Nobara feel things, too many things at once, and a lump began to form in her throat, “I love you” you mumbled, Nobara’s breath caught for only a moment, whispering a thick “me too.”

Masterlist

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #megumi x reader #nobara x y/n #nobara x reader #yuji x y/n #yuji x reader #megumi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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infinites-chaser · 3 years

Text

show a little faith, there's magic in the night | tears of themis | lu jinghe

warning for spoilers for themes from ch. 1 of lu jinghe's story, use of bruce springsteen, and a very long conversation about Life that is purely conjecture about lu jinghe's past

"watch the sunset with me?" he asks.

you blink for a moment, at a loss.

"please?" he tries. then, with another grin, "jie jie?"

you sigh. you move to join him, anyway.

("an hour of your time, jie jie?" he says. "I'm willing to pay.")

"lu jinghe?" you ask.

he's facing away from you, leaning heavy on the riverside railing, his features turned silhouette by the light of the setting sun.

"why did you tell me to meet you here?"

he turns at the sound of your voice, and something like relief flickers brief across his face before he relaxes into a careless grin, beckoning you closer with one lazy hand's wave.

"an hour of your time, jie jie?" he says. "I'm willing to pay."

you scoff, and let your elbow knock hard against his as response. for once, he takes it without complaint.

"watch the sunset with me?" he asks instead.

you blink for a moment, at a loss.

"please?" he tries. then, with another grin, "jie jie?"

you sigh. you move to join him, anyway.

the two of you stand in silence as the shadows of the city length, stretch fingers long across the water in pursuit of the fading rays of light.

then,

"if I tell you a story," he says, "will you promise to just listen?"

"what does that even mean," you start to say, playful, but you stop short when you catch sight of his expression: lost, uncertain.

you swallow the teasing back. lean closer, then nod.

he glances your direction, then away. takes a breath, then speaks.

"I almost ran away from home once, when I was eight," he says. you stiffen. you're about to open your mouth when you remember his initial words. you subside.

he continues,

"it was after my father's assistant had taken me to a circus."

he smiles, self-deprecating, lost in memory.

"I was throwing a fit because my father wouldn't take me with him and my brother on his business trip. but then I was promised a day at the visiting circus that had set up tent along the water, blooming like a rare flower at the center of the CBD."

"I'd never been obedient in my life," he adds with a grin. "but that day, I shut up. did my homework and studying, and was on my best behavior until we left the mansion."

"at that circus, there were all types of performers— put on by people of all talents, no matter how strange."

"there were elephant riders," he says, eyes bright, fixed on a scene out of his distant past, a scene for him and his eight-year old self alone, "lion tamers. knife throwers. trapeze artists who soared so high I thought they'd grown wings, and without the tent's roof, away they'd fly."

he scoffs a little.

"I thought they were magic."

"aren't they?" you ask. "in a way."

he lifts a shoulder. lets it fall. smiles. brittle, mocking.

"then magic's not all it's cracked up to be."

you don't respond. after a moment's silence, he clears his throat, glances your way, then back out across the horizon.

"anyway," he says, "point isn't if they were magic or not. eight-year-old me wanted to paint them anyway. try and capture even a little of their energy with my brush."

then, almost too quietly for you to hear,

"I still do."

"but?" you prompt.

"but," he repeats. the word's flat. sounds hollow on the still evening air, falls too cold, too heavy, too real under the setting sun's warm, hazy glow.

"it was just the one summer's day. painting and art— that was already my one indulgence. as my father's second son I wasn't allowed much more."

he swallows. you take a long look at him, but his gaze never wavers from the sun, slipping low and golden below the city skyline's flickering lights.

"it was like a dream," he says, soft, wistful. "I could've stayed forever, memorizing every inch of it. the flying trapeze. the dancers. the music. the cheering crowds. the smell of caramel and spice."

"it was evening before I knew it, and my father's assistant was doing his best to convince me to leave the snake charmer alone."

"I was just about to bribe him with what was left of my pocket money—"

"of course you were, young master," you interject with a scoff. though his body's still tense, he throws you a smirk, then continues.

"but then, the tent lights dimmed. a hush fell over the crowd, even the animals, as if we were all holding a collective breath, waiting, waiting for something. we didn't know what, but I could feel it, y'know? that if I didn't stay, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. missing that moment."

"so I gave him the money. promised him double when we got home. and we stayed."

"the tent was near pitch black, and everyone still and silent in this almost unnatural way, nearly scared, the feeling near sacred, when flames blossomed in the darkness, and the world of our tent came alive again, with the breath of fire, with the fire's light."

"fire breathing?" you ask. he nods.

"fire dancing," he says, makes the words reverential.

"I'd never seen anything like it before. And even while watching, barely blinking so I wouldn't miss even a single flame's briefest flicker, I knew I could spend my whole life trying to capture that scene on canvas, that energy, and still not manage a passable echo of it."

"that was real magic, jie jie," he says, and for once, his voice is earnest. full of childlike wonder. "I'll never see anything like it again."

"those performances that day, they were art. art everyone should see. art everyone should appreciate."

"I was planning on buying the circus company once I was old enough," he says. you'd scoff at a similar statement any other day, but his voice is dreamlike, worlds away,

"I wanted to preserve it. to capture that magic in the only way I knew how."

his eyelids stutter shut. he inhales, exhales, grip flexing hard against the railing.

what's wrong, you almost ask, but the words lodge hard and painful in your throat at his smile: warm, genuine. almost heartbreaking.

"today, I found out the company shut down ten years ago. the day I went was one of the troupe's last."

"and now?" you ask, voice soft. "is there no way of finding where all the performers are?"

he shrugs. glances sidelong at you. his eyes are lost. lonely as the final rays of sun sink into nothing.

"now I'm here," he says, a forced sort of flippant. it falls flat, and he abandons it, lets his voice falter. "I'm here in the same spot that tent was when I was young, and everything's gone. everything's changed. me, too."

you don't know how to respond. how best to comfort him. if there are any words of comfort that exist for moments like these at all.

at your silence, he sighs, shakes himself hard, then tries a smile.

"sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have said all that. it was selfish of me. just forget this, and tomorrow I'll be the lu jinghe you know again."

he turns to leave. on an impulse— don't let him leave, your nerves sing, your heart shouts, not like this— you grab his wrist, call his name, tell him to wait.

he does. he's still in your grasp, hardly breathing, though beneath your fingers, you feel his pulse racing.

"jie jie?" he asks, and it's hard to tell in the dusk half-light, but you think there's color creeping high across his cheeks. you flush in turn, but don't let go.

"wait," you repeat, and he does, and you sigh a little, relieved, take a breath, organize your thoughts, then speak.

"I—" you start, grasping for your usual lawyer's eloquence, "I used to visit this field every summer. it was behind my grandparent's house in the countryside. during the daytime, it wasn't much. just a patch of overgrown grass gone golden dry, any flowers that might've chosen to grow there in the spring baked under the summer sun."

"me and my childhood friend, we'd run through it until our cheeks were red with the burn of the sunlight, 'til we were exhausted, exhilarated, our hearts racing still long after we'd stopped."

"it was like tasting freedom," you say, your voice softening. "the golden field stretching wide in every direction. the never-ending blue sky up above."

if you close your eyes, you can still see it: xia yan's hair gleaming, just a few shades darker than the grass underfoot, his broad smile, your breathless laughter as you tried your best to keep up. your heart twists at the memory. since he's returned to the city, you don't think you've seen him as carefree as he was then, nor as bright.

some of it must show on your face— lu jinghe makes a vaguely comforting noise and bumps his shoulder against yours.

"during the daytime, though," he says. "then, I'm guessing it must've been something else at night."

you swallow and nod. blink a thanks in his direction, then respond.

"you're right," you say. "it was."

"at night," you say, "the grass was dark. the air was cool. if you looked up, you'd see more than a million stars. only, most nights we never bothered looking up, because it was like we were surrounded by all the stars of the sky, our own galaxy, blinking in, blinking out. little constellations all our own, those little fireflies and their lights."

"I could buy you a star," he says, tone forced light.

"lu jinghe," you scold.

"I could," he insists. "a galaxy, too."

"lu jinghe!"

"only if you wanted," he says. though his demeanor's sulky, you can tell, the words are heartfelt. you smile. just a little.

"what i wanted to say," you continue, "is that the field's probably still there. the fireflies, too. or, not exactly the same fireflies as in my memory, not exactly the same grass, but even if I were to return, even if I were to be there with the same person, it wouldn't be the same as my memory. we wouldn't be the same people either."

he chuckles. you frown.

"paris was never to be the same again although it was always paris and you changed as it changed," he quotes, smirk still tugging the corners of his lips up. "you and that old man have the same taste in literature."

"if art can be a moveable feast," you counter, "then why not the circus, too? maybe you'll never see those same performers again. maybe you will. either way, it won't be the same. not because you've lost the magic or the circus has, but because you've already had that moment. it was something that'd happen only once, that was no less meaningful for its brevity, that you'll keep forever in your memory."

he shrugs. smirks devil-may-care again.

"memory is hunger," he quotes, then sobers, turns serious once more.

"maybe you're right," he says. "either way, it doesn't change the truth: it's gone. we move on. the world moves on. we have to."

you frown.

"that's not what I meant," you say. "not really. because maybe it's gone, maybe the world asks us to move on, tells us that it was all in the past, there's no such thing as magic anymore. but you tell me, is that a life worth living— you're an artist, aren't you?"

"pax," he mutters. doesn't meet your eyes. then, louder:

"I have a responsibility to my father's company, miss attorney. ceos don't get to be artists, too."

"you see the beauty in the world," you counter. "the magic. you want to preserve it. not everyone can. not everyone has the power to. the money. the privilege. as ceo, why don't you?"

he's silent.

"isn't that what you told the director," you press. "that you'd defend other's dreams? doesn't it start here? by fighting first for your own? where you can. when you can."

then, quieter:

"while you still can."

"maybe there will be a day in the not-so-distant future where you'll have to choose," you continue. "and maybe you already know the choice you'll make. the choice you will have to make. but until that day, why sacrifice it— the vision only you have?"

wind rolls nighttime heavy across the water, blows chill between you, spins your hair loose and ruffles his bangs into his eyes. he reaches to brush them aside, and you think, for a moment, you see his hand shake. his eyes shutter closed. in the quiet, the shadows play dark over the panes of his face, turning his expression to nothing but another piece of night.

"I don't know," he says. "maybe no one's ever told me I had that choice before."

he turns to face you completely, and there's a child's hope hovering fragile in his dark eyes.

"not until you, jie jie," he says. then, so softly, you're not quite sure you hear him right:

"there's no one like you."

"that's not true," you say, tipping your head to gaze back up at him. just above his head, the first stars wink into existence. he swallows. leans closer. and your heart's racing, it has been, since you're not sure when, it's been racing, been waiting for a moment, for this moment, this moment, that, like magic, won't ever come again,

"there's you," you say, then the words are lost to the rest of the world as he closes the space between your lips and his.

the stars are as bright as the city lights by the time you pull apart, breathless wonders, the two of you a constellation all your own.

"jie jie," he says with a sweet smile the antithesis of his customary smirk, then pulls you close.

"thank you for coming today when I called."

"aren't you paying me by the hour?"

he scoffs. you laugh, nestled warm against his chest.

"then," he says, and you can hear his smirk return, "i'll be asking for the rest of the night, too."

it's your turn to scoff, if only to cover your blush.

"is there anywhere you want to go?" he asks a beat later. "you must be cold."

you shrug. slip out of his arms to claim his hand in yours.

"anywhere," you say.

"then," he replies, boyish bright, "let's go find some more magic together."

you don't have to go far— before you can search, magic finds you.

as you start down the path away from the riverside, back to the roadside, back past the deserted playground, through an empty lot, light splits the night: a ball of flames, soaring like a meteor through the night sky, burning bright.

at your side, lu jinghe stops dead in his tracks.

"fire dancing," he breathes, eyes alight. the flames fly further, and he follows.

a small crowd's gathered at the other end of the lot to watch, and you join them. there's a child crying, the group of teenagers in front of you are clearly drunk, and above their chatter, you can barely hear the music from the performer's battered speaker (talk about a dream, bruce springsteen growls, try to make it real), but lu jinghe has eyes for the fire and the fire alone, the fire and the old man who dances with it, his movements graceful, his wrinkled face creased into a broad smile.

the flames make another arc, sweep higher than the half-risen moon then come crashing back down, scorching the heavens and pavement alike, the man snaps his wrist, it returns to him, then with another tug, it soars back out into the darkness, blazing a trail of light into the night, carving temporary constellations, curling close around him, closer than a lover's caress, then flying proud, flying free— his passion, his life burning bright for the world to see.

and lu jinghe's fingers are closed tight around yours, and you hardly dare breathe, you don't think you breathe at all, you don't think you blink or move, and you want this moment to last forever, you want this magic to stay, because you don't think you'll ever see anything like it ever again: a person's soul become art, become a living, breathing thing, become light and flame,

(because maybe we spend our lives chasing the light, in love with it, the way it dances— always proud, fierce, always bright— but we hardly ever live it. breathe it. make it our own. hardly ever become it, the thing we love most.)

but the fire burns low, burns lower, burns out, and it's over with a smattering of applause, with a passing car's blasted pop song drowning out the fading crunch of 70s guitar, and you can breathe again, you blink and the world kicks back into motion around you, the crowd dispersing, though some are like you, like lu jinghe: they linger, still lost in the dream, lost to the light.

beside you, lu jinghe shakes himself, as if rousing himself. you turn to him, about to say something, anything, words that'll pale in comparison to what you've just shared, but he pulls away, strides to where the old man's taking a drink of water.

you blink again. shake yourself in turn. flex your fingers where they'd grown numb and sweaty intertwined with his. in his absence, one of the teenagers who'd stayed sidles up next to you.

"your boyfriend looks happy," she says with a grin and a shoulder nudge. you follow her pointed finger with your gaze to where lu jinghe's talking animatedly with the old man, his arms sweeping dramatically through the air, his shadow as excited as he is.

you're about to correct her, but then they both laugh, the old man gestures, and lu jinghe's head lifts, his gaze seeks out yours, meets it mid-laugh,

and you're suddenly struck painful breathless, your heart in your mouth, because this is yours, and only yours, and it's lightning magic, a match lit in the dark, blossoming bright in the dead of the night, it is enough, more than enough, everything you'd never dreamed of, never hoped for, never knew you wanted, never knew you needed: this firecracker charmer of a boy, carefree careless with an artist's heart that cares nevertheless. this boy who shines only for you, shines bright as the flames he's mesmerized by,

and the girl speaks again, but his eyes are still on yours, and she fades back into the night with her friends, leaving only a wink and a laugh— he's grinning broader, happier than you've ever seen him, and he's making his way back over to you, lit torch in hand.

"why are you looking at me like that, jie jie?" he asks, and you know he's barely your junior, but he sounds impossibly young in this moment, the firelight dancing in his eyes, turning the edges of his hair bright, burnished gold, and words could never quite describe what you're feeling— if it were bottled, you're sure it'd be sparkling strange, a living thing, a breathing thing, like fire, like this night, like you and him— but you smile, you reach for his hand before he can react, wind your fingers warm around his where they're gripping the torch's handle.

"you look happy," you say.

"happy?" he asks, but doesn't shrug off your hand. "happy, and not handsome?"

a heartbeat passes. the flames flicker. then his grin widens.

"I'll take it. a compliment from jie jie? I'll treasure it."

"yeah?" you say, eyes still on his.

"yeah," he replies, staring steady back at you. "I will, always."

"you better."

("lu jinghe?"

he's trying to learn to twirl the flames when you call his name soft, a question only your heart and his has the answer for, and when he turns to look back at you, his eyes reflecting golden glorious in the torchlight's glow, you want to call this magic, too.

"jie jie?"

"watch the sunrise with me?" you ask.

"another hour of your time?"

"for free, this time."

"then," he says, grinning bright, grinning broad, "we'll have to make it magic, too.")

#tears of themis #tears of themis marius #val writes #this is! entirely inspired by the fire dancers my friend and I were lucky enough to see by chance in the park by the water last Friday #anyway. ScrEAMs in lu jinghe hell hours.#tears of themis lu jinghe #do u ever think. about how his life passion is art. and he became CEO knowing he'd have to give it all up #bc.#yeAH.

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burntmcnuggies · 4 years

Text

Effectively Trained (1/2)

Yandere! Hawks x Reader

Warning: this story contains non-consensual touching, forced sex, mentions of serious harm and abuse, kidnapping, and excessive use of strong language! 18+ only please <3

Part Two

“He does things his own way and has climbed the ranks with lightening fast speed! In the number two spot! Winged Hero: Hawks!”

The crowd erupted in applause as the red suites hero approached the stage to stand beside his fellow heroes. The smell of delicious food, and expensive champagne filled the sensitive mans nose. As for having a bird-like quirk, the blonde had a very keen sense of smell and sight. The only thing he was focused on at the moment was the young woman sitting by herself at the table reserved for him and the other top three heroes. Her skinny arms were raised in a small quiet clap to appraise him. He smirked to himself and put his hands behind his neck, flaunting his vibrant red wings out to make himself stand out. It was impossible to miss his presence due to his powerful quirk. The announcer finished introducing the top 5 heroes supporting the charity event Hawks was currently at. Once the heroes were dismissed, he rose to the air and made a straight B-line for the woman at the table.

“Hey dove.” He called out to her, making the beautiful young woman flinch harshly and jerk around to greet him. He landed softly in front of her while people stared in awe at his large wings and glowing aura. This was the popularity of one of the top 3 heroes. He opened his arms, initiating a hug, but before he even got his arms up, she was already in his arms hugging him. His honey-colored eyes glistened and glowed with an unknown emotion. His strong arms wrapped around her, his hot breath ghosting over her ear. “Good girl. I’m proud of you.” His husky voice was suggestive and poisoned with lust. The girl in his arms shook slightly, slowly nodded her head in acknowledgment to his words. When he pulled away, his pupils constricted once he laid eyes upon a couple people staring. “Let’s go somewhere more private. So I can reward you properly.”

His voice was no longer warm and goofy. It was cold and harsh, demanding the woman in his arms to come with him immediately. She clung to his order and quickly latched onto his arm. His pupils dilated back to their normal size and he grinned cheekily walking through the crowd. “Leaving already Hawks? It’s barely just begun.” The number two hero stopped in his tracks hearing the voice of the man he admired every since he saved him. He turned his head around, the diamond studs in his ears sparkling under the bright lights. “Ah, Endeavor!” Hawks turned around and moved his hand down to tightly hold the mysterious woman by the waist. She kept her head down in Endeavors presence. The Flame hero was a clever man, and immediately, he could tell there was something odd about their relationship. “Oh! Endeavor! I’d like to introduce you to my beautiful dove, (Y/N).”

It was quick, but the woman’s head jerked up quickly, and her panicked (E/C) eyes could’ve been perceived as embarrassment, but Endeavor could clearly tell it was not that. It was fear. ‘There’s something off about her. Is it me?’ “I-It’s nice to meet you... M-Mr. Todoroki. H-Hawks is a huge fan. I-I really admire your work too... you’re a v-very respectable hero...” The red-haired man came to the conclusion that she was just shy. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Hawks carelessly flopped his arm around his lovers shoulder, tightly squeezing it with all the force he could. The woman now known as (Y/N) flinched feeling his tight grip. “I-I’m sorry! Please excuse me! I’m going to get some drinks! I-I’ll bring you some Hawks!” In the blink of an eye she was gone through the crowd, rushing towards the refreshment table. A sharp barbed feather glided across the floor unseen and jabbed into the frightened girls leg. Luckily, her dress covered it and her hair was down to cover up the frightened and pained face she was making.

“A good one isn’t she? Sorry about that! She’s a bit shy! She only likes me! That’s why we’re trynna leave so soon! I thought I’d make an appearance and earn some money for whatever this is for and head home!” Hawks boasted and flexed his wings a bit, showing off his alpha-like nature. Endeavor hummed in suspicion, looking for the girl to come back. This didn’t help the growing possessiveness inside the number two hero. His wings fluffed up wildly and his pupils contricted sharply in a threatening manner. He could feel the warm blood running down his unattached barbed feather, making his legs quiver. What a lovely feeling. “What’s with the look man? Don’t think I can land such a hottie? I’ll have you know I’ve been with plenty of smokin’ chicks. And not chickens!” His fake cheerful laugh interrupted Endeavor’s thoughts. He scowled a bit. “How exactly did you two meet? I’ve never seen her with you at one of these things.”

“We’ve been dating for about a year now. We met at my agency actually. She was looking for a job. Later I courted her and told her I would work and she wouldn’t ever have to raise a hand in the work force again!” Endeavor narrowed his eyes. ‘There’s no way anyone would willingly want to stay cooped up inside a house the whole time... he’s hiding something. It’s unlike him to be so defensive.’ Just in time, (Y/N) returned and handed Hawks his drink, lowering her head once again, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. Endeavor huffed and offered his hand out for her to take, a test of some sorts. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” The girl refused to take his hand. She kept her head lowered and clung herself to Hawks. Usually, Hawks would just laugh and make a joke for her not to be scared, but Endeavor was surprised to see Hawks holding her tightly and looking at her blankly. ‘Something’s off.’

“We’re going to head home then.” Hawks spoke suddenly, rubbing his lovers back with a small sincere smile. He downed the expensive champagne and set it on a random table. He kissed her head and moved his wings to block her from anyone else’s view. A crimson feather came from the floor and reattached to his large set of feathered wings. Unnoticed by everyone. “I don’t want to make my beautiful angel uncomfortable. See ya later Endeavor! Let’s go out sometime for some Yakitori soon! Okay?” He ushered her quickly away from the scene where the number one hero just stood there. He watched them go, his gut demanding him to follow them, that something was off, that something sinister was right in front of him. It couldn’t possibly be Hawks.

‘I’m probably just imagining things. But next time we meet, I’ll definitely get to the bottom of whatever is going on.’

——

*Click*

“I’m proud of you, dove. You did so well tonight.” Hawks praised his lover once they reached the security of his top level pent house suite. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light cascading over the room from the moon. His hands twitched in anticipation seeing his beautiful angel standing before him, now completely undressed, patiently waiting for his orders. “I would like to reward you, buuuuut you got a bit too talkitive with Endeavor back there... guess I gotta punish you just a little.” It was quick, but the winged hero harshly pushed against the back of her knees and made her kneel harshly in front of him. His ungloved hand made contact with her hair, entangling his rough fingers within and yanking upwards harshly, forcing the terrified girl to look at him. “You should only say stuff like that to me. ME. Got it?”

She nodded frantically, tears building within her large (E/C) eyes. Flurries of apologies burst through her lips and onto his deaf ears. He thought actions spoke louder than words. Her next actions would determine if the punishment needed to go further or not. Over the past year, it had been his goal to break her mind into being his obedient little pet. He had taken her out to his office only a couple times, but when she ran and pleaded for help from one of his sidekicks, his “training” became more intense. The pain became too much for her malnourished and fragile body to handle. Her mind slowly began to crack. “You know I don’t accept apologies that way my beautiful dove. Use that mouth for something else other than talking.” She knew what he was implying, and hastily began to unbuckle his belt.

His training paid off. He was in complete and total control over this woman. HIS woman. His lips spread into a sadistic grin and he let out a throaty chuckle, sighing in pure amazement at how well he had done. “Look at you, desperately wanting to suck my cock for my forgiveness. I’ve trained you quite well haven’t I angel?” He pulled back a little bit to plop on the couch, watching with lustful eyes as the woman of his dreams quickly followed after him on her knees and got between his legs. She nodded anxiously and fearfully, worried that if she took too long to respond, he would go through another “training” session with her. “Hmm... hey... remind me again what I did last time to make you mind so easily. I tried out a bunch of different methods than last time. I just wanna know... what works best for you angel.”

He reached down and grabbed her hands to stop her from continuing, waiting for her answer to his question. He already knew the answer, he was only testing to see if she remembered what punishment he gave her last time she went against the rules. “You uhm...” She stuttered, trying her hardest to remember the punishment she was given last time. Over the year, he had given her hundreds of punishments, and over 50 “training” sessions. There was a large difference between Hawks’ punishments and training sessions. Punishments would only last a little while, maybe a few hours. But training sessions lasted days, even weeks. She had to remember all of the rules he had set in place for her, or else she would be punished and go through the same session again and again until she never forgot.

Rule 1. Always love Hawks

Rule 2. Always support Hawks

Rule 3. Hawks is your favorite hero

Rule 4. Always listen to Hawks

Rule 5. Hawks loves you

Rule 6. Hawks will always protect you

Rule 7. No talking back to Hawks

Rule 8. Don’t look at anyone besides Hawks

Rule 9. Hawks knows what’s best for you

Rule 10. Don’t think of anyone besides Hawks

Rule 11. Don’t talk to anyone besides Hawks

Rule 12. Always comfort Hawks

Rule 13. No make up

Rule 14. Don’t smile at anyone besides Hawks

Rule 15. Only leave the house WITH Hawks

Rule 16. Tell Hawks “I love you” every day

Rule 17. Call Hawks if someone touches you.

And the list went on, and on, and on, and on. The rules were hammered into her brain for days. Morning time, Hawks would take his feathers and penetrate the skin on her back, making her repeat the rules every time a feather pierced her now scarred skin. Then make her repeat it again when he pulled them out. While she was home alone, he tasked her with writing down the rule over 100 times to make sure she got it. Then we he came home, he would review her work, demand her to tell him the rule, and depending on that, he may let her eat and sleep. Everyone looked at Hawks as the friendly, carefree, boisterous, and fun pro-hero. However, (Y/N) knew the dark side of him. The possessive side of him that refused to let her go, let her speak to anyone else but him, anything really. Everything had to be him.

She snapped out of her gruesome thoughts of her last training session and shakily looked back up to see Hawks patiently waiting for her answer. “You... p-put your feather... through m-my tongue... b-because I s-said... I felt b-bad for... B-Best J-Jeanist...” He nodded and scratched the stubble on his chin. His lower lip stuck out and he smirked. “Ah! Now I remember perfectly... the taste of your blood when I kissed you felt so good. Should I do it again? I’m feeling pretty punishy today.” (Y/N)‘s face drained color immediately and she hastily began to unbuckle Hawks’s belt, hopeful he would forgive her.

Rule 41. Blow Jobs for forgiveness.

“Looks like I burned that rule right into that pretty head of yours huh? They always say I’m too fast for my own good... what do you think dove?” His sinister yet carefree grin unnerved her and she shivered harshly under his gaze. She didn’t know how to respond. After being with him for a year, she was still wary of his mood swings. He could be so friendly and nonchalant the first minute and the next he’s cruel and cold. What answer was best? “I.... I think you’re perfect just the way you are Hawks... fast or not... y-you are... perfect.” That was a good answer. She inwardly applauded herself for coming up with such a great answer. Hopefully he would punish her less right? “Perfect huh? You always know how to make my heart flutter don’t cha dove? But I’m not letting you off that easily.”

Her body stiffened.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you behave around me. It’s quite suspicious. Even Endeavor back there was gettin’ a little too curious about our relationship.” Her hands halted, his pants now loosely hanging from his hips, his arousal clearly evident by the bulge in his grey boxers and the slight stain from his sticky pre-cum. She regretted the moment she looked up to look into his golden eyes. His pupils were slit, and he wore a grin, a crazily sinister glint within those once warm eyes. “It’s startin’ to piss me off a bit ya know? It hurts my feelings my baby bird isn’t being honest with me. After everything I’ve done?” He laughed and spread his large wings out, towering over her and blocking her only heavenly source of light. Her gaze was locked on the only thing she could see.

Those horrific glimmering eyes of his.

“No I want you to be honest and tell me everything you’re feeling right now.” Suddenly, a hand forced its way onto her throat. The unexpected movement knocked the breath from her lungs, and the restricted force placed around her windpipe only made it harder. Her mouth shakily began to open, but closed immediately, fresh hot and salty tears already beginning to stream down her already dampened cheeks. “What? Don’t wanna be honest with me baby? I thought you would’ve remembered that rule...” He pouted in disapproval. In a sudden flurry of panic and fear, she pushed his hand away, stunning him into silence as she recited the rule. “Rule 21! Always be honest! Rule 6! Hawks will always protect me! A-And rule 5! Hawks will always love me! Rule 27! Everything Hawks does is for me! And I’m always grateful! Rule-“

“Woah there tiger! Didn’t need ya to tell me every little thing. But I’m glad you remember so much. I’m honestly impressed.” His wings retreated against his back, and he raised his bare hands up to softly pet her hair. His precious dove lowered her head slowly, accepting his praise silently. “But you still aren’t being honest with me. I want you to tell me how scared I make you. How you’re so scared about what I might do that you’ll never leave. That you’ll always be beside me!” His voice was getting desperate, and the way his ash blonde eyebrows furrowed showed her his frustration was seeping through. She shakily exhaled, heart pounding harshly against her chest. “I... u-understand... your want to k-keep me here... you’re... l-lonely... and mentally exhausted... I... love you Keigo... I just... don’t... like how... you hurt me... that... terrifies me.”

His pupils shrunk hearing his first name come from her lips. He searched deeply for any lingering signs of dishonesty, but found none. What she said was genuine. She was scared of being hurt by him, but knew deep down how fucked up his life had been despite being such a popular hero. Having to play double agent, keep up two different personas and stress about not getting found out by the other organization. “...Rule 5.” He said sternly. His voice was cold and void of emotion, which was strange and unnatural for the usually bubbly winged-hero. Blonde bangs covered his honey colored eyes, hiding the truth from her. (Y/N) flinched and quickly recited the rule. “Rule 5... H-Hawks will always love me.” A smirk stretched across his face, and he raised his head up, his eyes shimmering with possessiveness and greed. A red glint shined within those bird-like eyes, and he grabbed her hands, placing them on his hips again. “Please me. Pleasure the fuck out of me dove. Do good... and I might let you go out tomorrow —with a feather of course.”

All of a sudden her mood lifted, and she smiled widely at his proposal. “R-Really? Y-You mean it Keigo...?” He gave her a lopsided grin and nodded his head confidently. His wings spread while he laid back against the sofa, comfortably adjusting himself so he could get a perfect view of his little lover. His avian eyes watched carefully as her delicate hands moved over his pants, pulling them down just a bit. The large H on his belt hung loosely to the side, making the belt a bit heavy. Hawks deployed his feathers to make his wings smaller and slipped his jacket off, only being left in his tight fitting shirt with gold accent lines and a diamond. His wings came back to life quickly, slightly fluttered as he got them reattached. “Your... wings are very... large and b-beautiful.”

“They’re all for you baby bird.” He commented flirtatiously. His eyelashes were exceptionally long, and those dark markings near his eyes made his eyes only pop and glow in the moonlight. His large wings created long and intimidating shadows, shaking up his forced lover. She shook her head quickly and focused her attention back on the task at hand. Her cool fingers slid across the fabric of his boxers, a heavy blush settling on her face. She leaned closer to his hips, her (H/C) hair falling to rest against the top of his clothed thighs. (E/C) eyes looking up innocently to see what reaction his smooth face held. He was watching intently, his stern eyes demanding her to continue. Her throat bobbed slowly and she gently pulled down his boxers, clenching his loose pants in embarrassment watching his arousal slap against his abdomen.

“Ahh... come on baby, don’t tease me like this. Hurry up and swallow my worm birdie.” He cooed, throwing a very gross sounding bird pun in. A shiver crawls up her spine sharply, her brain finally taking back control of her fingers. The smooth skin of her fingers folded over his steamy cock, running along the vien on his underside. In the background she saw his bare hands clenching the cushions of the couch tightly, his forearm stiff. He was restraining himself, and clearly it wasn’t working too well if he had to go through all that. “Stop. Fucking teasing me.” He ordered in a raspy hoarse voice, struggling to even get a sentence out. His cock twitched in her smooth hands, aching and throbbing, begging to be touched and engulfed by something warm and tight.

(Y/N) closed her eyes and leaned forwards, pressing her lips gently against the head, before her tongue slid over the vein and she took him into her mouth. “Hah... fuck, deeper.” The hand previously on the couch came to tangle into her once beautifully curled hair. His reluctant lover flinched and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, letting his hand guide her. His nails dug into her scalp, some of her hair being pulled out by the roots at his strong grip. There was a very arousing wet sound bursting into both their ears from the activity both adults engaged in. The pro hero had his head on the back cushions, panting heavily with his wings tightly folded against his back occasionally twitching and shivering. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeah... just like that dove. Hah fuck, your mouth is so damn amazing! Haha! You can take me all in can’t ya? Argh... only one way to find out right?”

The girls eyes widened in horror and the hero slammed his impressive length down her throat, his strong hands pushing on her head as hard as he could. “Ugh! I feel yer teeth! Open that beautiful mouth wider for me dove!” Her mouth was at its limit. Her jaw was aching, her throat being stretched, her nose buried within the curly mess of musky smelling hair near his V-line. Her eyes burned with tears, head throbbing, pussy dripping with fluids, her lungs clawing at any ounce of oxygen they could find. She was incredibly lucky she got over her gag reflex early on into their “relationship.” He jerked her head back, her nostrils stretching to catch even a small amount of air to satisfy her lungs, only to be slammed back down repeatedly. “Didn’t- Ngh!- know you could go this deep! Fuck! Haha, you’re gonna make me c-cum soon~”

His calloused hands from years of hard work shoved her head back and forth wildly, refusing to stop his relentless face-fucking. His movements increased, and his panting and moaning had only gotten louder. “Ahh~ hah! Yeah baby! Come on!” He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and growled out lustfully. His husky voice shamefully making his baby bird’s love parts ooze with arousal. His keen nose could smell it from a mile away. Suddenly a soft feather came under the woman on her knees, harshly rubbing against her sensitive clit. Two more came to push against her nipples with the softer part of the feathers. “That’s it b-baby! Ahh yeah you dirty little slut~ getting wet while sucking me off~ haha! Agh... yeah... lemme know when you’re close, I-I wanna cum in that pretty pink damn pussy. And it’s all mine. Ohh... it’s all mine.”

His low husky growls only made the sensations better. (Y/N) was now struggling to maintain the fast pace he forced on her. The adrenaline pumping through her veins with the only thought in her mind was not getting hurt, she pushed through. “Haha! Ohh~ you’re mine. Fucking mine...” He growled through grit teeth, his avian eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into the mouth of the woman of his dreams. His eyes traveled just a bit south and caught a glimpse of his soft red feathers harshly grinding against her nipples, making her squirm in discomfort and desperation. “Nghh~ haha! Fuck! Fuck baby bird~ my cute dove~ my god damn angel... I’m gonna fucking cum. Hurry, hurry get on the couch.”

In a flash he shoved her head back, not even giving her a second to even breath before hoisting her up and slamming her down on the couch. His rough hands found her legs quickly, spreading them apart and getting between them. He hastily grabbed his hard cock and immediately shoved it inside her aching and unprepared womanhood. A flash of white hot pain shook her whole body. Her fingers were tingling and the breath was knocked from her lungs. He was a monster. Relentlessly moving himself in and out of her like she was some kind of toy. His play thing he could bend, break, use, and throw away whenever he pleased. But she was his favorite toy, his most prized possession. No matter how broken, or bent, or lost, it was his.

And he would kill anyone if he ever lost his precious treasure.

“Haha! Ohhh... oh, yeah. It’s been a while huh baby bird? You okay dove? You can take my cock soooo good can’t you~? Right?” His flirtatious groans echoed in the large space of his penthouse living room. His wings spread widely, fluttering slightly at all of the lewd attention his sweet sweet cock was getting. Squeezed so firmly by unprepared walls of squishy muscle, enveloped in a warm and comforting feeling of love. He couldn’t have been any happier at that moment. His lover on the other hand, “Y-Yes H-Hawks!” Her mouth was left hanging open, her eyebrows scrunched together tightly in pain. Her cheeks were painted with salty streaks that cascaded to her chin and left drops on the couch.

“No... hah, no Hawks. Say my name. My name that o-only you know.” He was setting her up to make himself lose control. They both knew that whenever (Y/N) would say Hawks’ real name, the bird-quirked hero would lose control and turn into a complete animal. The girl underneath the presumed hero could only sob in pain and fear, conflicted on what to do. Have her captor cum inside of her and possibly force her not to take plan B, or be brutally hurt for disobeying his orders. On the slim chance Hawks would let her take the pill afterwards, she succumbed. “K-Keigo! Keigo! Kei! Kei! Kei-.. g-go!!!”

“FUCK DOVE! Yeah say it more! Goddamnit! Fucking say my name! You’re m-mine! Ahh hah! My pretty bird! A-All... mine...” His large hands slid over her slim waist, malnourished from his constant punishments and paranoia if she gained too much strength she would attempt to rebel against him like she did when she first got here. She began to chant his name desperately, almost screaming at the top of her lungs to satisfy him. “Rule 5, 1, and 19. Say them.” He demanded, not faltering in his movements. His fierce golden eyes stared upon her, watching intently as he made her cute breasts bounce. Her body being shoved back and forth aggressively to satisfy his burning hunger. “Hawks will a-always love me!” She sobbed out, struggling to even get a sentence out. She opened her blurry eyes to look at him, biting her lip harshly to stop crying. “I-I will always love Hawks! And we will do a-anything for each o-other!! Keigo please! Please!”

“Good girl! Fuck! I’m gonna cum dove!” His screwed up mind perceived her pleas as a sign for him to push her over and make her reach her euphoric orgasm. In reality, she was begging for him to stop. Stop his assault, stop his forceful touches. She could practically feel her body shutting down. Her heart and mind mentally checking out. Her emotions become hard and stone-like. Death would be better then spending another second with this man above her. She flinched feeling something warm flood about inside of her, ears barely picking up on the breathy gasp that came from the number two hero as he finished himself off. Her mind began to wander back to how all this even came to be.

So naive.

So stupid.

So blind to the true nature of the number two hero, Hawks.

Her eyes slowly fluttered closed, feigning being asleep in hopes she could escape to another world. Alas, that world faded the moment he opened his mouth and took away all her concentration. “Wore out already, huh? Guess I need to feed ya more, dove.” She was lifted into the strong hero’s arms, carried carefully back to his bedroom like she was the most fragile thing in the world. She knew of the pro hero’s past, how lonely he was. Even though she hated him to the core for everything he’s done to her, she couldn’t help but pity him. “But you know I can’t feed you too much or you’ll try to leave me again. You remember, baby?”

No response.

He sighed blissfully and leaned close to her, gently brushing her hair out of the way and listening to her soft breathing. “So fucking beautiful. You still manage to take my breath away. I trained you quite nicely. You behave so well... I couldn’t ask for a better girl. Although... when I first saw you I knew you had to be mine.” She tensed under his calloused fingers smoothing over her face. He knew she was awake. He wasn’t an idiot. “Rest baby bird. My sweet... sweet fucking dove. You mean the world to me. And I would kill. Anyone. That would try to take you away from me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss to her head. She slowly opened her eyes to look at him, seeing his warm smile full of genuine love. “Your eyes are so beautiful, (Y/N). Everything about you I love but your eyes... they’re your most beautiful feature.”

“...thank you, Keigo.” She whispered. He chuckled and crawled into bed beside her, pulling her body close to his. Large red wings spread widely, slowly coming down to cover them both as protection, and reassurance that his precious angel wouldn’t escape. She moved close to his chest, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his bare chest. “Rest. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow, going out on your own without me. You must be excited.” He always gave her these fishy questions. It was like he was testing her to examine her commitment to him. She swallowed a little and smiled. “A-A little... I’m g-going to buy groceries, ch-chicken, your coffee... a-and some p-plan-B...”

“Still weary of barring my chicks? That’s alright. It’ll all change soon dove. Once I achieve my dream, I’ll take you far away, start our family, and marry you.” He smirked down at her sleepy state. His large hands combing through her soft (H/C) hair. ‘Maybe we can start over, and you can love me without being forced.’ He thought to himself. I’m honesty, he disliked hurting her, but he couldn’t control his rage sometimes. In his childhood, all he had was an Endeavor toy. His favorite toy. Now he had (Y/N), and she was his new favorite toy, his treasure really. He needed to hold on with a death grip and not let her go. Not let go of the only good thing going for him at the moment. “That sounds n-nice... I-I’m sorry I’m v-very tired... g-goodnight Keigo... I-I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her head. “Just don’t forget the rules while you’re out.”

#my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #hawksbnha #hawks x reader #hawks smut #yandere hawks #bnha hawks

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