#But I did not expect them to make another one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsuyalovebot · 3 days ago

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don't make me wait forever.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

cw: sfw. semi-prominent reader characterization (spoiled, occasional use of she/her pronouns, referred to as a "little sister" once). kisses. casual touches. throat holding (both by reader and by caleb). use of "older brother" to address caleb (not by reader). pipsqueak as a term of endearment. reader wears makeup. some spoilers from tender moments, memoria, and bond story. caleb typical warnings (manipulation if you squint).

wc: roughly 3-4k words. unnecessary word vomit.

author's note: a man who yearns is a man who EARNS. hi, it's me again! i had an idea and had to bring it to life. enjoy! ( ^ -. ^ )

Caleb wasn't lying when he said he spoiled you too much as children.

You didn't quite get it at first—he was nothing but sweet with the occasional menace during childhood, sure, but he didn't spoil you spoil you.

You were leaning into his chest, eyes closed while listening to the TV in the background as his large arm wraps itself around your waist. Tucking you against him, feeling his lips against the crown of your head.

"I baby you too much," he sighed, a mellow cheeriness beneath his words.

"And yet, you sound so happy over it," you grumbled. Sleep is so close yet so far, and you'd been squirming around in search of the closest boarding gate. His touch delicate as he pulled you onto his lap.

You snuggled closer on instinct. Picking up on the faint smell of sandalwood and something finer, richer. There was movement on your back, Caleb's palm stroking up and down, while the other held you by the back of your neck like an infant.

"I spoiled you, too."

You frowned, looked at him blearily. "Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh." He pushed your head back onto his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

Sure, Caleb took extensive measures to ensure your comfortable upbringing with him. But you weren't spoiled.

Right?

But you go on your first date with someone that isn't him, and it kind of hits. Making an offhanded comment about how the water temperature was more cold than warm—you asked for room temp—doesn't result in your date immediately requesting another glass or them buying you bottled water from the convenience store across the restaurant.

Instead, you're told, "they probably forgot, it's fine" and the date continues. You watch the condensation form on your glass quietly. Every rational droplet is speaking to your acrid gut feeling—it's just water. It'll be room temperature eventually.

Later on, your date messages you. They asked if you got home safely, all the while you'd been drinking a glass of lukewarm water in Caleb's dining room. You pressed block once you heard his familiar, curious voice asking how the date went.

"It was meh." And you asked for another glass.

Another time, you'd been hanging out with old high school friends as a simple gathering. Though, you hadn't expected that it would lead to seemingly endless anecdotes in relation to you. Over fruit smoothies and café pastries, they'd all been exchanging stories once the conversation turns over to yourself in high school.

"Remember when she would always ask us to do stuff?" One girl laughed, cutting into her french toast.

Another cleared her throat, exaggerating her voice into a falsetto, "hey, can you get me a bun from the cafeteria? Oh, there's no more? Then, a banana milk and whatever pastry they have."

It earned a crackle of laughter along the table of five people. You, the object of discussion, smiling at the head of the table. Rather awkwardly, too, as you sipped on your drink.

"You forgot to add on the "you can do that at least, right?" at the end!"

"Oh, oh, the sulking too, if you don't do it!"

"She'd always complain about our fans, too."

"Oh my God, yeah. "Why does your fan battery run out so quickly? Did you not charge it?" Like, hello?"

One of the girls face you amidst the active exchange, grinning. Despite the recollection of your nature in the past, they weren't mad. Simply taking the entertainment value in it.

"Don't worry," and she said your name, placing a hand over yours on the table.

"You've got an older brother, right? It may have been annoying, but we're friends. You were like, our little sister."

A muscle in your jaw ticked. His face popped up in your face and you wanna punch him, despite him being nowhere near you at the time of this event. But, you laughed and nodded; acquiescing to her reassurance was easier this way.

It slipped out once more when you go out for movies with Tara. It's the same theater you and Caleb always frequented before. You already swiped your card for payment of movie food, and had besn walking to the screening room.

"Tara, can you check the bucket? Make sure it has enough butter on it?"

"Hm? Okay," she replied. While you scrolled on your phone, you heard the plastic lid of the bucket pop open.

"Seems good to me. You check."

When you move your attention over to the bucket, you're met with mediocre-looking buttered popcorn. The golden syrup of butter scattered over the pieces. You frowned. Since when were they so shy about buttering literal corn?

You stopped walking, brows furrowed. "It's so... pale. Let's go back and ask for more, I didn't pay for that."

"Huh? Oh, okay?" You didn't really register Tara's confused tone of voice until after you had a spat with the person at the popcorn station.

It was some moody teen probably working minimum wage. He was scowling while you talked about the butter portioning.

He sneered, "over some popcorn? Really? Were you that spoiled as a kid?"

It winded you. Tara was pulling at your arm, seeming to try and hold you back despite you being frozen. The manager came out once the commotion seems to stop, only because you were gobsmacked.

He'd been apologizing profusely to you and Tara upon recognizing you both as hunters; his eyes had landed on you with so much familiarity. He's probably been working here for a decade or so. Long enough to have previously seen you and Caleb at movie screenings.

Tara's at the butter dispenser of the self-service station—something they closed over half a decade ago apparently, but frantically opened for today, coincidentally—with you behind her when she finally spoke

She was a bit bewildered, but it was easy to pick up the lighthearted tone. "I didn't take you for the pampered type. That was the normal amount of butter on popcorn for most places."

You shook your head. "No, it wasn't. I was a regular here in the past. Every time we got a bucket of popcorn, they were always so generous with the salted butter."

"By yourself?"

"No, with my friend."

There'd been a pause between you two. She pressed the lid back into place and begun shaking it, the popcorn rattling. Then, she turned to you, like she knew something that you didn't.

"And you never once thought this friend scared the employees into putting extra butter for you back then?"

It always went back to him.

Whenever you'd go to a colleague's place and bore holes into the crooked cuts of the apple slices on a plate, you found yourself recalling Caleb's expert cuts. These ones weren't even red delicious apples.

You're a bit peeved when the food from the monthly catering service at the Association doesn't taste the same way that Caleb makes it, even though the food is the same kind and recipe.

Your next trip to Skyhaven is definitely highly anticipated. You're been exhausted and haggard for the past few days. It only amplifies as the day stretches on, grimacing when Caleb opens the door. He's surprised to see you, panting and sweaty in his white tanktop. Fresh from a workout, most likely. It makes you a bit, a tiny bit, mad.

"Pipsqueak? What's the occasion?"

"You," you hiss, releasing your hold on your suitcases. You kick off your shoes as you push your way into his place, pointing an accusing finger to his chest.

Caleb's confused. It's clear in the furrow of his brow and frantic blinking that his synapses are doing rapid fire checking of what today is, what he's said or done recently, what stores are on sale, and what snacks you need.

Despite being the one who said he himself spoiled you, he clearly has no idea how it's manifested in your life, and it pisses you off even more.

"I'm the occasion?" He squawks, confused. "It's too early for my birthday—"

"You and your stupid past self. I should have your head on a stake," you bark, slamming your fists onto his pecs, pushing him further into his own home.

He laughs a bit, still completely in the dark, but his voice gets a bit more pitchy.

He leans down, cranes his gargantuan ass down to your height. It's polite. You know this, he's done it countless times. But your gut speaks to you. You're going to throttle him.

"Huh? What did I do?"

"You piss me off!"

His face softens with concern. His hands come up, ghosting over yours. He murmurs your name—

Then you're gripping him by the neck. You get to drink in the way his eyes widen to saucers as your fingers delicately wrap around his throat, palms on either side. You don't squeeze, and instead, aggressively shake him. "Pipsqueak?"

"You spoiled me!" You shriek, voice shrill with accusation.

Frustration, the buildup from the past couple of weeks comes to full fruition in this very moment. It's only for a split second that you see realization dawn on Caleb's face before you continue yelling.

"I relied on others to get me snacks because of you, I complain over batteries because of you, now I want specific water temperatures, I can't stand pale popcorn because you demanded extra butter, I'm picky over food—"

"Hey—"

"Don't you hey me, mister!" You jut your finger up at his face, and he shuts his mouth instantly. "I'm like this, because of you!"

You don't miss the glitter of mirth in those stupidly ethereal eyes of his, and it's wholly unreal how your anger amplifies when you notice his twitching lips. He found this funny.

"You're laughing?" You whisper, low and indignant. You squeeze his throat, feel his breath pass under the skin. Adrenaline riveting and real in the low thrum of your heartbeat.

"I'm here, devastated over the effect of your stupid actions on my life, and you're laughing?"

"Devastated?" Caleb echoes. The idiot sounded delighted over this. Like he was finding a great deal of validation in your admission.

A grin quirks his lips into its signature, charming curve, and he's leaning down into you some more. One of his hands sliding over yours with a gentleness only he could emulate. Your resolve stutters, and he's quick to take advantage of that.

"Oh, please, pipsqueak." He chuckles. "That's not true and you know it."

His fingers gently slide between the gaps of yours, making room for himself and filling the emptiness. Effectively peeling them away from his throat, and doing the same to the other hand. You relent, letting your arms hang loosely at your sides.

Caleb's still smiling when he takes a step forward, crowding your space now. It doesn't register that he's cornered you until your back is flat to the closed door and you're surrounded by him and everything about him.

The very man who's fed you every granule, acquainted you with the taste of having the world at your every whim. A charged zap runs up the base of your spine when he lifts your chin.

"If you were really devastated, you'd have come here cryin' instead. You'd be on your knees, weepin' over how I've ruined you. Not yelling and screaming and accusing me," he coos, sickly sweet. His thumb rubbing below your lower lip.

"Are you done? Do you feel better after getting it all off your chest?"

His gaze feels abysmal. Two pools of an oceanic depth, spatial and intergalactic and beyond your comprehension. Hungry.

Something darker lurks there. That one look that flickers in and out of conversations whenever you're close to him, or when the topic tilts into something that you know you shouldn't be touching. Like he's satiated, but still craving more and more. You feel small under it every time.

"Even a kid knows how to manipulate their guardian into givin' them what they want."

The double meaning, one of comparing you to an immature brat, isn't lost on you. Heat crawls up your skin as your cheeks round with the scrunch of your nose. Ready to retaliate with equal venom, even if his words weren't inherently insulting.

But, before you even could, the expression on his face stops you in your tracks.

It's like looking at the colonel. Caleb cocks his head to the side, expression clinically cold. "When someone is speaking, we?"

He stares. He's waiting for a response, you realize.

You finish his sentence, pacified. "We listen."

"Good. Seems you still have the manners I taught you."

Your face heats up.

That stupidly patient smile on his lips was grating on your nerves, far more than any revelation of his ingrained presence in your every action, thought, word, and emotion.

His thumb is soon pressed flush to your lips. He isn't prying it open like he did before, instead rubbing the pad of his thumb along your lips, caressing the divot of your cupid's bow. He's playing with the glossy texture and film of your lippie, smearing it past the corner of your lips.

The first thing you want to do is push him away. Shove him, hard, and make space between the two of you so that your train of thought could return. Yet, the softness that decorates his grape-colored irises was making you hesitate. He's an annoying guy, someone who gets on your nerves, with featherlight caresses and an admiration so sincere.

Rouge stains the pad of his digit when he draws it back. He's curious, his gaze thoughtful as he examines the pigment. Then, you're watching as he lifts it to his mouth with a deliberate kiss. Lashes fluttering over his cheekbones.

When he drops his hand, the scarlet pigment is smeared over his lips like a brand.

You're burning alive. You reach up, immediately trying to wipe it from his lips. "You—"

"Weirdo? I know." Caleb catches your hand with ease, beaming with half-lidded eyes. "Buuut, you're just as weird as me for lettin' me do that, y'know."

He's making a point. You're going to gut him alive, you think to yourself. In stealing an indirect kiss from you, he's replicating every scenario you've ever bared yourself to him. How easy it is, to melt in one's earnest wonder and affection, unable to say no.

In an attempt to regain your composure, you scowl with all the feigned vitriol you could muster. "You're even weirder for condoning my every action."

He cocks his head, like he was reloading a couple memories from the past. The countless times he let you get away with things.

"It's... not that easy for me, pipsqueak."

"Yes, it is." You huff and free your hand from his grip. Settling your palms flat over his chest, fingers curling into the stretchy fabric. "Telling me no couldn't have been that hard."

"Yeah?" He teases. "You think it's that simple for me?"

"Grandma could handle me."

Caleb deadpans at your mention of her, his face relaxing into something like bemusement.

"If Gran or I took away your stuffed animal to clean it, you'd kick and scream and cry. If I denied you of your favorite food or a candy apple, you'd say you hate me."

You blink. That wasn't the response you were expecting. All of a sudden, you feel like someone's wiped your mind of everything you've ever known, and redefined your recollections of childhood. Embarrassment crawls up your face in burning streaks.

"Gran could handle you?" He repeats, shakes his head with a sad look.

There's a pained aspect to his current physiognomy, the furrow of his brow, the deepened set of his mouth. "That's because it's her. Of course, she wouldn't mind your cries. But I did."

He crouches, and for a moment, it was as if he was falling. The sunlight filtered in through the glass of the door behind your head, catching on the nutty brown strands of his hair. Cradling his head against the junction of your neck and shoulder, hiding away his face.

"I didn't want you to hate me." He admits, the words fanned over your throat. You inhale deeply, and his familiar scent invades your senses. You hope that stupid central organ wasn't too loud, or else he'd hear the beating of your pulse working double time.

Caleb's a constant in your life. He was a pillar, from youth 'til now, that never failed to offer you assistance regardless of the circumstances. You knew him to be reliable, persistent, generous. Perhaps it plays into the way he's coated your teeth in sugar, nipping at your enamel in a thick film that tastes of sweetness.

Yet seeing him like this, frustrated and amused and annoyed—it was unfounded.

"I didn't know much." The vulnerability was low yet blaring. "I just knew I didn't want you to hate me. I knew I loved seeing you happy. And if I denied you, you weren't happy."

It's too black and white. So childish and simplified. It's an easygoing description of his feelings toward you during early youth, one that could easily be swallowed up and consumed by the nasty nature of the world.

Yet, you card your fingers through his hair. Press your lips to his temple all the same, and listen to his utterances.

Your bottom lip is jutting out before you can stop yourself. And in spite of his own admissions, the uncomfortable nakedness that comes with it, you mumble a pointed, "you made me high maintenance."

"You're only figurin' that out now?" He snickers against your skin and the subsequent vibrations make you jump. "Pipsqueak, everyone's known you're high maintenance."

You protest, "that's not true."

"Yes," he says, amused. "It is."

Peeling away from your neck, Caleb's face is less grave now. Relief floods your senses and you cup his face, smoothing over the corners of his lip to wipe away the frowns. There's a weight behind you that isn't the door, his palm a welcome touch as his fingers splay over the small of your back.

His other hand resting on the side of your throat, fingers resting on your nape and thumb rubbing the ridge of your jaw. The motion is soothing, and you close your eyes to memorize its rhythm.

"Even if you're high maintenance, I'm the one who caused it. Allegedly."

You bristle and your eyes fly open, "allegedly? There's proof—"

"Ah-ah."

Caleb's brows are raised on his forehead as you pipe down, amused by how quick you were to correct your behavior.

"Much better. As I was saying."

Despite the extra firmness to his voice, his touch on you was nothing short of gentle. Like your body was carved from marble, reinforced by a fragile porcelain, he does that thing where he tilts your head with the hand on your neck. His thumb rubbing your earlobe.

But the most violating part had to be those intense, smoldering eyes that beheld you with utmost priority. How did you ever think he didn't care for you?

Caleb's tone of voice is chiding. "You're high maintenance because of me, and that makes you mine to maintain."

He's talking down to you. Treating you like one would to a child learning how to tie their shoelaces, his voice chiseled with the vines of condescension. Heartbeat speeding in your chest, distinguishing your heartbeat from your rampant thoughts became far more difficult.

The little smile that's on his lips seems manic. Far away, distant, as you slide your hands over his pecs. A shudder ripples over your skin.

"After all, it's my fault for making sure you're comfortable. It's my fault for prioritizing you above all else, as children and as adults." He starts, chillingly calm. He shakes his head to himself with a deep sigh, and tilts your head back against the door. Examining you with an unblinking, almost detached visage. Yet, his words were anything but, thick with emotion.

You breathe slow, torturous inhales and exhales, feeling Caleb's hand wrap itself around your throat. Alarms ring out in the back of your mind—loud, incessant, disturbing, yet you close your eyes and let him hold you there.

He won't hurt you. He never would, intentionally.

Quietly, like a forbidden fruit to not be consumed or heard, he mutters, "it's my fault for wantin' nothing but the best for you, because it's what you deserve. Nothing less."

Oh, you breathe out.

There's absolutely no pressure to the way he holds your neck. His palm wasn't against the column of your throat, instead, the pads of his thick digits were clasping the skin with a touch so invisible it almost felt nonexistent. When you swallow, the flexed skin presses itself up to his touch.

"Do you really want me to take it back?" Caleb asks, breaking the momentary silence and taking you out of your thoughts.

You blank out for a moment too long. "What?"

"You came over to let me know I've spoiled you beyond reversing repair, without wantin' me to change?"

Why did you come over? Why did you decide to come up to Skyhaven one day, literally days away from your regular times of visiting him? Over something like this? Literal outdated information that you've only recently discovered.

Why? You don't know, but you're rushing to speak, holding onto his top. "That's not what I—"

"It's not what you what?"

He tilts his head down toward you and every coherent thought exits your headspace instantly. God, his eyes. They're darker now. Frustration brimming in the burning fuchscia, the indigo of his irises all-consuming.

"I can stop pamperin' you starting today." He offers.

The surfacing ache in your chest is abrupt, disruptive.

"Starting today, I won't buy your favorite snacks. I won't ever pat your head again. I'll leave you to fend for yourself in every fast food line, and you can get your own stuff when we go shopping. You can even do your shopping alone. Is that what you want?"

No. No, it's not what you want, but how do you express that? An entity, so puissant and arresting, is crawling up your esophagus, scraping at the backs of your teeth, trying to pry your mouth open, and wail its truth into the minimal distance between you and Caleb. It's an ugly feeling, one stripping you down to your base needs.

Pain bleeds into his expression, his eyes only softening as a thought crosses his mind. "Are you gonna tell me you don't need me again?"

"Caleb, no," you manage.

"If not, then what's the problem? It's too late. If I've ruined you, you've destroyed me."

You destroyed him? When? You've never... When have you ever—?

Your chagrin spikes in time with your bewilderment. "I never did anything like that."

Caleb peered into your eyes. Your soul. Questioning, a bit disbelieving. Like he can't really believe your own blindness. An incredulous laugh slipping through his nose when he realizes you weren't lying.

He takes a step forward. You're fully sandwiched between him and the door now, and one of his arms come up to rest above you on the surface. "Caleb–"

"I can't go through the grocery store without thinking of what you want for dinner." He admits, the revelation so tender and tied with candor. Your words die on your tongue and dissolve.

"I can't do my laundry anymore unless it's with your brand of fabric softener, since it reminds me of you. Every time I try on a new jacket, I wonder how it would look good on you."

The information comes pouring out of him like a geyser. And his voice is full of nothing but love. You press your hands to his chest with more force, but he won't budge. Your ears are scalding and you're avoiding his gaze now, his face.

"You dedicated a journal to me. You came to every basketball game." Caleb laughs, breathless. A little in awe of you, so full of adoration. "You always visited Skyhaven when I moved out. You pretended to be my girlfriend. You didn't want me to get a girlfriend. You kissed me at my graduation."

He stutters over himself at the end, sighing deeply and it's making your stomach do flips. "God, you kissed me."

Really? You're burning. Did he have to bring that up?

He's pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, using his hold on your yielding neck to find your gaze once more. You could crumble into ashes right now. In fact, you hoped the floor underneath you would just swallow you whole and leave nothing behind for Caleb to dissect.

"You're think you're spoiled, pipsqueak?" Another laugh, and it's mixed with raspy agony and disbelief, shining in his stare. "I'm rotten."

In Caleb's home, you never really heard much commotion. Simply the low hum of the television in the background, the living room a few paces away. Yet, your heartbeat was the soundtrack to his life, and he's made it his favorite ringtone.

You could feel his own racing heart under your palm. He looks defeated now, conflicted. Oh, Caleb.

"You never wanted me to take it back." He says it to himself. Like he's trying to get himself to believe it.

"You just wanted reassurance that I'd never leave you, no matter how coddled you are."

The heart that's thudding rapidly against your ribcage was so fickle, so naïve. It might jump out of your throat at this rate—God, Caleb could probably feel your pulse like this.

Your mind's racing. There's only one way you could resolve this rift formed from these series of revelations and confessions. You weren't going to lose him again. He has no right to leave after this.

"You're so quiet now. Don't tell me you're thinkin' of runnin' away, pipsqueak." His voice is lighter, more in jest now. The first sign of distance, denial.

You clasp his wrist, and whisper, "I'll take responsibility."

"What?"

"I'll take responsibility. For ruining you. In exchange, take responsibility for me too." You declare, louder. You sound more sure.

He's blinking at you now. Then, his brows furrow and a bewildered laugh leaves him. Before he could reply, you push forward, not allowing him any time to recover.

"I'm in your hands now, aren't I? You said so yourself. You did this to me. I did this to you. I'm yours to deal with."

You wind your arms around his neck, hearing how his breaths stutter and feeling his hand leave your throat. You're on your tippy toes, pulling him down so you could settle back against the door, feeling his grip settle over your waist. It's a lovely sensation. One so right. It cements your resolve.

"The only ones who can handle us are each other. Nobody else."

You don't know what you're saying anymore.

But you know you like the rising determination, you like whatever this is. You like the hope that swims in his gaze. The fear that's within them, terrified of this being one of your pranks. It wasn't; you'll prove it to hom.

"You can't make all these promises and leave me alone," You speak in a hushed tone, finality thick in the waver of your voice. You're leaning in before you can stop yourself and whispering, "I won't let you."

You can't help but feel like whatever game you two are playing now, you've lost. He's won yet again. Yet it doesn't quite feel like a loss this time around, not when Caleb's face is smoothing out into one of relief. One of contentment as he closes the distance.

The breath that fans over your mouth is hot and his voice is full of yearning, "I never planned on it."

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spentgladiator · 2 days ago

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I love Valentine's Day. I'm a server, and have been for many years, so I get a peep into many different relationships and the thing about Valentine's Day in particular is.

Couples that dont go out together anymore, don't spend time together anymore and don't really like each other any more still go out on Vday because of the obligation (she needs to be able to tell the girls he took her to a nice dinner to keep up the facade of a happy marriage, he needs to say he did something or else the cute girl at the office who asks what he and his wife did might think he's an asshole) and those are the couple's you can spot a mile away.

They're usually in the 40-60 range but not always, when the kids are young they can feasibly get away with not doing something because they can't find a babysitter or equal excuse, so the kids are grown enough to have one stay home and mind the others. The body language will be stiff, rigid and deeply uncomfortable, as though they are sat across from some kind of creature or perhaps a beast. One or both will likely be looking at their phone a lot more than you would expect a couple at a romantic dinner. The conversation will be sparse, unemotional, very logistics based rather than anything intimate or emotional. They'll be "dressed up" like a business meeting, nothing sexy or fun and the vibes within fifteen feet of that table will be RANCID.

Any other night of the year and these people would be holed up on opposite ends of the house keeping themselves occupied, maybe she's out with some friends and he's practicing his golf swing on a simulation somewhere idk what straight men do honestly. They are strangers to each other, worse yet, strangers with BAGGAGE. they will both be totally impervious to your charm and attempts at being friendly and warm to lighten the mood, (alternatively, she will cling to you like a life vest as a source of any positive interaction, her eyes screaming 'please can I just hang out with you instead')

You wonder if you even need to put ice in their drinks cause with how cold they both are it's likely the drink would freeze in their hand anyway.

As for how these two make it through other special occasions - other people. Think about it.... Christmas brings children and relatives and friends, birthdays, Holidays, they never have to spend that time alone together. Valentine's Day stands out as a time when just the two of them HAVE to do something, lest they admit to themselves and each other that the love between them had died long ago.

This couple is not special. I see a few of them every Vday, you just have to try your luck if you wanna spot them. I recommend hopping, drinks and appys at one spot, main course at one spot, dessert at another to maximize your chances at spotting one. Just make sure you call ahead and book your tables!

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a-mint-bear · 1 day ago

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Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

---

It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that.

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet.

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore.

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options.

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room.

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit.

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself.

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower.

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient.

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options.

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing.

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy.

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment.

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon.

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing…

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him.

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear.

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention.

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit.

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance.

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way.

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did.

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him.

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep.

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder.

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer.

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat.

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp.

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless.

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck.

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part.

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad.

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint.

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

#yandere #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere oc #male yandere x you #minty writing #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #genderless reader #gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #male yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x gn reader #male yandere x gender neutral reader

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eunoiathewriter · 1 day ago

Text

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 — Choi Su-bong (Thanos)

Sypnosis: Su-bong had always known who she was. For years they had been in the same class. Yet, it's not until now that he has started feeling like this. Like he's being pulled towards her. (Or, part 1 of headcanons about classmate Thanos falling for a girl in his class).

Warnings: Parental neglect, strict parents, mentions of abuse, smoking. Reader is referred to as a girl. Probably OOC, but this is about a part of his life we don't know anything about, so i can make stuff up either way.

Word Count: 10.1k

A/N: Since i promised to tag you @ivonhart

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had been in the same class as you since elementary school. Through all the years, he had the same role as class clown and often threw out jokes in the middle of class. Often getting reprimanded by teachers. Yet he was a favourite among his classmates and fellow younger students, though not really by the older ones.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found school often to be something he disliked due to never really understanding the way teachers explained things. But he would look at students like you and your two friends who could understand everything and get in a sour mood.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only had brief interactions with you throughout all your years in the same class but still knew you were the smartest in class.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who absolutely loathed whenever they did peer reviews in class. Usually he never wrote down any comments on his classmates works, knowing they always did a lot better than him anyway. So when he was handed a paper, he sighed heavily.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who overheard that you got his essay to review, and internally he cringed at this. Knowing what he had written and that it probably was not up to par with what such an academic student as you could write. Had anyone else gotten his essay, there would not be many notes, as most of them only verbally said if something was good or okay or even bad. But not you.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who forgot all about the essay he should be reading and the whole time kept his eyes trained on you. Watching your eyes move across his paper with a form of calmness, occasionally jotting down small comments on his paper that he wished to see immediately.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who averted his eyes from you when the teacher said to give the essay back to whoever you were reviewing. He grumbled a small "It was fine" to his friend Min-ki while handing his essay back. Just as he handed it over, though, he heard his name get called and turned only to be faced with you.

"Hey, here you go." You held out his essay for him to take, a small smile on your lips.

"Oh, thanks..." Su-Bong took the paper from your hand with a tight smile, expecting you to walk off. But you didn't.

"I liked your essay, by the way, Su-Bong. I never really knew all of that about rap. There's just a few notes, but overall, it was great."

"Thank you." He thanked not being able to withstand sitting up a little bit more from his slumped-over position. You gave a little nod and another smile before turning. Ha-eun, who stood behind you, handed yours back.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who frowned and looked through his three-page essay and the few notes you had jotted down for him. They were simple ones, only asking to explain a little further on one thing and a few small grammatical errors. Who knew getting to write an essay about something he liked would make him write a good one?

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went home that day to his mess of a family and for once did not feel stupid after a long school day. Fixing the parts in his essay recommended by you so he could turn it in the next day to the teacher.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was surprised when the teacher handed back the essays and patted him on the back for "stepping up". Seeing him get a score higher than he had gotten in a long time, especially in a subject that was not music.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got stopped in the hallway by you after school as you asked him how it went with the essay. When he told how well he'd done and thanked you for the advice you'd given him, all you could do was shrug and say it was nothing. But it was something to Su-Bong.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who asked you then and there if you'd be open to helping him with schoolwork, to tutor him as his friends had said you were good at such things. And because his current one was shit. Getting a bright smile and nod as an answer made him raise his brows.

"You can?" He asked, a bit stunned.

"Of course," you nodded. "I'm more than happy to help."

"Are you free on Thursdays after school?" When he asked that, the way you smiled and your brows furrowed a little almost told him it was a stupid question. You were known to stay late and study.

"Mhm, just meet me in the classroom after school. I stay late often anyway."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who unconsciously then began to watch you more, not in a creepy way, but when he saw you, his eyes would linger on you for a moment. If you were in the classroom with friends and he walked past, his eyes would stay on you till he could no longer see you. When he heard your voice, his head would turn in the direction it came from, trying to locate where you were.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who enjoyed being tutored by you more than his old one. Unlike them, you adjusted the way you explained subjects to him. At first he had not understood a word you said, but after a bit of readjusting in your way of explaining, he slowly got the hang of it.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, whose eyes would flicker from the paper or book you were pointing to while explaining and back to you. His eyes would stay focused on you every time you checked his progress, the way you would mouth things that he could not hear and the way you would furrow your brows in concentration.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, despite getting to spend an hour or two extra with you every Thursday afternoon, could not find it in himself to strike up conversation outside of tutoring.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would come to the classroom after school, having said his goodbyes to Min-ki and Dong-hyun as they left to get home, only to find you already in the classroom with your books out and earbuds in that connected to your MP3. He had no idea how you could do such long days in school.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found himself actually improving after only three weeks of help from you, even earning himself more claps on the back from teachers. Even his parents took notice, getting to hear directly from his homeroom teacher of the change in his grades and quality of work as of late.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who never claimed to Min-ki and Dong-hyun that he had suddenly become an academic weapon when they pointed out their grades on the exam were still better than his. He had only said that "Shit’s easier to understand. It's weird." Which made his friends only shrug their shoulders because grades never really mattered anyway for Su-bong.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had been bored out of his mind while wandering the school halls, waiting for you to come to tutor him, had become a drag after ten minutes passed. But the sound that came from the gymnasium quickly caught his attention as he moved closer and creaked the door open slightly before sneaking in behind the equipment to investigate the sound. Much to his surprise, it had been you. Playing your violin. All alone in the gymnasium.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who accidentally made some gym equipment fall as he tried to get a better look, which caused him to curse a bit loudly. Looking up from his fallen-over position with a sheepish smile as you had whipped around and faced him, letting out a sigh at the realisation it was just him.

"What the— Su-bong?" Your voice came out confused when you saw him.

He sat up and rubbed his neck. "Uhm... surprise?"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Didn't know you were a musician. Are you hiding a band in here too?" He dodged the question while standing himself up, watching as you put the violin down.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"Well, I was waiting for you to tutor me, but you ditched me. So, technically, this is all your fault."

"I didn't ditch you," you shook your head. "I told you yesterday that I would be fifteen minutes late."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me why." He watched as you snapped the buckles to your case shut. "Had I known, I'd have been here much sooner."

"Why?" You could not help but ask with a slight laugh. When your eyes met his with an expectant look, he averted them and tried acting nonchalant.

"Obviously to listen." He shrugged, turning away slightly before speaking again. "You're really good, by the way."

"Oh, I—thank you. But you can't just come spying on me."

"I wasn't spying. I was... appreciating. There's a difference. You're smart, so you should know that."

You chuckled at him, also not missing the flattery that he surely thought would get him out of tutoring. "You're not getting out of tutoring, you know."

"Man, seriously?”

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was relieved that summer had come and that he would finally get a well-deserved break from school. While walking out of school with his friends, spotting you with your friends. Nodding his head at you when you shot him a smile, a way to tell you to have a good summer.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had in the beginning hoped that his summer break would at least not include sitting at home. Yet, it did. Neither of his mother or father being able to stay home or take him anywhere during the long break. He could not even hang out with Min-ki and Dong-hyun, who were out of Seoul for the entire summer.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who spent the first week of summer break lounging on his couch, watching TV, and eating whatever junk he wanted. Only getting minimal texts from the guys who were busy spending time with their families.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after spending a whole week inside, decided he would go out and see if anything would inspire him. But it ended up only being him walking outside in the summer heat with earbuds in as they blasted his newly downloaded music. Rap, to be specific.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who weaved his way between people in the market, giving nasty glares towards guys younger than him who bumped his shoulder. Trying to find where that place that sold his favourite food was now again turned out to be a bigger hassle with so many people lingering around the marketplace.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who stopped in his tracks and had to backtrack a few steps with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows at spotting your familiar face among the crowd. Standing by your bicycle while paying for some groceries.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who could not help but make his way over, hands in his pockets, as he called your name and got your attention. Your face displayed surprise upon seeing him, having thought he would have been with Min-ki and Dong-hyun all summer.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who were surprised, although he did not let it show, to find out your friends Soo-min and Ha-eun were also gone for the whole summer. This has left both of you all alone and without friends to hang out with.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who asks to join in on your shopping round, claiming he has nothing better to do. Which he really didn't. Occasionally, he would poke fun at your seriousness when it came to choosing the right fruits. His joking around would only bring a small smile onto your lips as the two of you walked through the market stand by stand.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who insisted on walking with you to your neighbourhood, stealing glances at you every now and then. For some strange reason, he also felt strangely at ease with you, enjoying that you were so easy to crack a joke to. Every time, he earned either a small laugh or a small smile pulling at your lips.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only reached the edge of your neighbourhood before you stopped him, saying that you could take it all from here. He watched you almost get onto the bike to cycle the last bit but was able to stop you before you were off.

"You know, we should hang out sometime." He said it as casually as he could, hands in his pockets while shrugging.

"Hang out?" You echoed, brows raised a bit.

"Yeah. I mean, we get along, right? And besides, neither of us really has anything to do either way. So why not keep each other company?"

"I—uh. Hmm." You did not really know what to say.

"Beats sitting inside, bored, all summer."

"I don't know, Su-bong. My parents are sort of strict about who I meet outside of school. Soo-min and Ha-eun are really the only ones they agree to."

Su-bong clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Come on, (Name). You're smart—I'm sure you can come up with a simple lie."

"If my parents find out, I will be grounded till I'm married."

"I'm sure you can bat your lashes and come up with something to cover our asses. Or what, do you want to spend all summer alone and doing nothing?"

You sighed and thought about it before answering. "Fine. But my parents really cannot know about this."

"That's the spirit!" Su-bong nudged your arm slightly. "You got my number?"

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who walked home that day with your number in his mobile phone. Part of him began to wonder what lies you would tell your parents to be allowed to leave the house without having them hunting you down.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later that night messaged you and asked if you would be free the next day. Only minutes later did he get an answer that you had nothing planned and a question of where to meet. Quickly, he sent back a place, a bit further from your home as he now understood you not wanting him in your neighbourhood, and a time that would at least let him sleep in.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who met up with you the next day five minutes late and could not help but poke fun at your obvious nervousness. Commenting on how you really had to relax a little, also pointing out that the only reason your parents would ever find out about this all was if you ever slipped up with whatever lies you made up.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got surprised an hour or so into the two of you going around town, seeing how you began to loosen up. You were no longer looking around like a child hiding while eating sweets they weren't allowed. The tension in your shoulders left, and instead of just rolling your eyes at his remarks, you shot some back.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went home after hanging out that first day, found himself having enjoyed it a lot more than he originally thought. It was different from when he hung out with Min-ki and Dong-hyun. Sure, they knew him well and had been friends with him since kindergarten, but still.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after three days of hanging out, asked you if the two of you could please take your bike instead of walking. Because of his insistence, you said yes, much to his delight, but that also meant he had to sit on your bike carrier. This led to some arguing as you wobbled a little in the beginning, but when you sternly told him to just sit still and shut up, Su-bong was in no way about to test you and only answered with a slight smirk, "Yes, ma'am."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would fill the silence between the two of you with anything rap-related. You had always known he liked rap and did it himself; he was not shy to ever announce it to the whole class. Surprisingly enough, you ended up learning a lot about the genre you had never indulged in.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who gets pulled along to your favourite bookshop one day and just trails behind you as you point out ones that you desperately wanted to read. He did not understand your love for words on pages, but he did not exactly complain because at least he had someone to spend the summer with. But he would furrow his brows questioningly when you left the bookshop without even buying a single one of the twenty-something books you had pointed out.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who realised you were not just an incredibly study-focused person, but actually someone who had never really gotten to do just whatever.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after a whole week of hanging out, found himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who dragged you along to the best arcade in town where he spent the majority of his money insisting he could win a prize from the claw machine. Finally, you stepped in and won the prize on your first try, leaving the boy to gape at you before jokingly calling you a "witch."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who focused on beating his own record at his favourite game while you stand off to the side, almost yelling at him to listen to your advice. When he does as you suggest and he wins, both of you high-five at the win.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you pulled along to a part of the city where there was a whole neighbourhood with abandoned buildings filled with graffiti. The two of you find one that gives the best view of the city skyline, and from then on, when neither of you knew what to do, that was your place to go.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who did not call or message with Min-ki and Dong-hyun as much only three and a half weeks into summer break. The majority of his calls were instead to you, sometimes even calling when your parents were home.

"Come on, ditch violin practice and come keep me company. I'm dying over here." His comment made you roll your eyes, as if he could see from the other side of the phone.

"Hm, no thank you. I don't feel like being strung up by my toes today!" You shot back at him, causing him to groan.

"And here I was thinking we were making progress."

"Who is it you're talking to, (Name)?" Your mother suddenly glanced into your room as you sat on the bed.

"Just Ha-eun." You answered smoothly. The choked sounds on the other side of the phone and snickering made you want to smack him in the head.

"Oh, well, tell her I said hi!" Your mother smiled a little before retracting down the hallway.

"Dude," Su-bong lost it, laughter a bit muffled. "You didn't even hesitate. That was so smooth—look at you becoming a pro at lying!"

You sighed and rubbed your face, but the smile still pulled at your lips. "Shut up."

"No, I'm like actually impressed. Should I be worried?"

"For me to hang up? Yes."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found himself thinking about you more often than he liked. His mind often went to think about what he had said, your reaction to it, what you would be doing the next day, and anything that had to do with you.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after almost four weeks of hanging out, slung an arm over your shoulder to prepare for his proposition. Dragging out a "So..." while you gave him a side glance, awaiting whatever dumb idea he had now gotten to come out. When you told him to just tell you, he did as he was told.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who awaited your big blow-up, as you for the moment just stood and stared at him, blinking occasionally, as if he had just suggested the two of you go and steal from the local bank. Especially when all he had suggested was for you to sneak out one night. "Everything's more fun at night," he had claimed.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, instead of getting a full-on lecture, got a question of what the two of you would even do. This made a sly grin spread on his face as it sounded like you were not completely opposed to the whole idea. Was he a bad influence on you?

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made out an intricate plan on how you were to sneak out. Both of you came to the conclusion that the upcoming Friday night would be perfect because your parents went to bed slightly earlier. Hours before your parents would come home, you for once showed Su-bong exactly where your apartment was and painted out your window (that was on the first floor, only two meters above the ground).

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who that Friday, at your decided time, waited on the grass below your window as you opened your window and tossed down your jacket for him to catch. Once you had jumped down and stood up, he could not help but make a single comment.

"Not bad for a first escape." Su-bong said with a smirk while handing you your jacket.

"Yeah, you're such a bad influence." You shot back sarcastically, already moving towards your bike by the bike stand and unlocking it.

"I'm honoured you think so!"

You shook your head, pulling out your bike and getting ready to go. But you could not help the growing smile, having grown quite fond of the boy's antics. "Just get on, idiot."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had directed you to a 24-hour convenience store. He jumped off before you parked your bike off to the side and locked it. When you gave him a raised brow, he told you that he was "paying back" for all the free rides you had given him.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who followed you inside and had a hard time keeping up with your speed as you went from shelf to shelf and grabbed your favourite things. It ended up being more than he thought, but at the same time, you had been pedalling around with him on the back of your bike for four weeks, so it was really nothing.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sat on the curb of the convenience store with you, looking at all the people going in and out and watching the star-filled sky. When a group of drunk university students walked past and two ended up toppling over each other, you and Su-bong could not keep from laughing.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later that night, when the two of you were quietly sitting on the roof of the abandoned building, pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one and placing it between his lips, out the corner of his eye he could see you looking at him. Without saying a word, he held out the pack to you, not expecting you to take one, but you did.

"Something wrong?" You asked while taking the lighter from Su-bong's hand, fingers brushing against his as he took an inhale.

"Since when do you smoke?" Smoke left his mouth as he asked that question.

"I don't do it often if that's what you think." You let out a breathy laugh, lighting the cigarette.

All you got was a dumbfounded face in response, like this was the biggest revelation in his whole life. So you explained further. "My dad smokes; I've taken some of his every now and then. He doesn't notice."

"For real?" Su-bong asked and earned a nod in response. Then it was as if he deflated a bit. "Damn. And I thought I would be a bad influence."

"Sorry to burst your bubble. My dad has a bit more influence than you."

"Wait a moment..." He sat up, exhaling the smoke in his mouth while looking at you with narrowed eyes. "Do Soo-min and Ha-eun know their angel of a friend smokes?"

"First of all, no, they don't. And second of all, angel?"

"What? It fits you, angel."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who that night helped you back up into your room through the window, having to give you a little extra push. Once you were inside and leaned out the window to wave bye to him, he could not help but notice the rather large smile on your face.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who learnt that you were not just smiles, politeness, and intelligence in the form of a human, but you had attitude and humour. It was a huge contrast to the polite and respectful girl who would sit in class and do her work. You did not shy away from a witty comment.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later the next week after spending the day at the arcade, casually mentioned doing something later that same night. He had fully been expecting you to say it had been a one-time thing, but instead, as you grabbed your bike, he got an "I'm in" from you.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had not in the beginning of the summer expected to hang out with you every day, and now, also, some nights. It was almost as if he had forgotten about Dong-hyun and Min-ki.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you would run around town with any time of the day, as long as your parents had no idea what you were doing. The adventures consisted of frequent visits to the 24-hour convenience store, urban exploration, bike rides around the closer neighbourhoods, sharing a cigarette or two, or even going around stores in town along with everyone else participating in Seoul's nightlife.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would sit outside your violin lessons in the summer and listen to you replaying the same passage over and over till it would be perfect. He had no idea why the old woman who was your teacher had to be so loud about your mistakes, like screaming about it would help you in any way. It made him pull a face of disdain for the woman he had never met.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would sometimes sneak inside the big theatre when you had lessons just to hide behind the chairs to listen to you better. The few times you had caught him out of the corner of your eye, he would give you a thumbs up as a silent way to say you were doing great. His goofy face and thumbs up would make you have to hold back a laugh while playing, causing your teacher to stop to ask what was so funny.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you would laugh with after your lesson about the old woman's overdramatic reaction to a single smile. This would then lead to you complaining about the woman as Su-bong sat at the back of your bike and made comments that furthered your laughter.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who for some reason, after that first successful sneak out, began calling you angel. It would often leave you rolling your eyes at him, telling him to quit it, but the heat rising to your cheeks said otherwise. Su-bong could not understand the issue, just shrugging and enjoying the reactions out of you while continuing to call you angel. Instead of your name, angel was what he called you.

"Oi, angel! Over here!"

"Yo, slow down! The hell? Are you trying to ditch me, angel?"

"Where you at? You're still at home? Hurry up, angel, I'm bored as hell out here!"

"What? You want me to start calling you '(Name)' like some stranger? No way, angel."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found your reactions priceless, either the roll of your eyes with a small smile or a swift smack to the back of his head. No matter what, he loved them all. Because at least you were paying attention to him in some way.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you noticed had almost no sense of personal space. It was nothing weird; it was just as though you, after only a few weeks, had reached the same level of friendship he had with Dong-hyun and Min-ki. There would be an arm around your shoulder at random times when walking, when you played an arcade game he would be looming right by your shoulder while poking you whenever you were close to winning, his hands would land on your shoulders whenever you agreed to yet another late-night hangout, and he would find himself grabbing the back of your shirt when the two of you navigated through crowds.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sometimes in crowds just had his brain go blank, which made you tell him to just hold onto your bag's shoulder strap. It had once or twice happened that he just walked into a pole in the middle of the street, so you were just being cautious.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who still watched you closely, whenever he said something, was awaiting a reaction from you.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who one day suggested you both spend the day at his house. When you walked inside, you could not help but let your eyes go wide at the scale of everything; it was so much bigger than your family's apartment. They even had those fancy fridges with ice and water dispensers. The Choi family was truly rich.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who shrugged about his home, because for him it was a cold and boring one. There was no life, no baby photos of him or old photos of his parents, just two pictures of him and his parents.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who let you roam about his room and find whatever you wanted to entertain yourself, and in your case that had been his Nintendo. He was seated by his computer, downloading music onto his newest MP3. You had found yourself comfy at the foot of his bed while you played the game that had been in his Nintendo.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who immediately sat up from his relaxed position at the slam of the front door. You jumped at the loud sound, not used to such things. Glancing over at the boy, he was already on his feet, cursing under his breath.

"Fuck," Su-bong muttered as he heard the clattering of keys against wood. "My dad's home. Fuck. Come on, angel."

He ushered you to get up, and you did so, not even arguing about the nickname. "What? What's going on?"

At first he did not answer and only grabbed your wrist lightly, cursing under his breath while trying to gently guide you towards his closet. When you put a hand on top of his on your wrist was when he turned to you, meeting your eyes. "Su-bong."

He stared at you for a second, hearing the steps that seemed to move towards the stairs. Su-bong then sighed.

"My dad is not like your parents. He doesn't give a single shit about boundaries. If he sees you here, even if he doesn’t know you, he'll start talking shit to you and about you—" He cut himself off with a sigh, hearing the footsteps moving up the stairs. "Look, you don't need to experience him. Just hide—please."

Without another word, you just nodded. Su-bong quickly opened his closet for you to get inside before closing it. With ease he moved and dropped down onto his bed, just as the footsteps up the stairs moved towards his room. He grabbed the Nintendo on his bed and began fiddling with it.

No knock or form of signal that his father was going to come inside was given, the door only opening and revealing him. Su-bong glanced up at him before speaking. "You're home early,"

"And you're still wasting your time here." His father spoke with a grunt. “Did you do anything besides sit here like a bum all day?”

Su-bong stared at his dad for a minute before looking down at the Nintendo in his hands, shaking his head. “Nope. Pretty much perfected the art of breathing, though.”

“You know what, forget it.” His dad let out a sharp breath, waving his hand while pushing the door to Su-bong's room closed again.

The boy sat for a moment, listening intently to the sound of footsteps descending downstairs once again. Letting out a sigh, he turned towards the closet. “Coast's clear, angel.”

Cracking the closet door open and easily slipping out, your eyes flickered towards the door before moving back to Su-bong on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, eyes moving all over the place until he looked at her and stood up. “Come on, let's go out instead.”

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had expected you to ask so many more questions after that day, but instead it was as though you had a silent understanding for his situation.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who one late night suddenly placed his hands on your waist while you were pedalling towards the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of Seoul. The sudden feeling made only your eyes glance down, as to not alert the boy behind you in any way. After a moment, you looked up as you shrugged it all off and let his hands stay there. It is a better way to keep himself stable and make your work easier either way.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had only felt how you tensed up a bit at the sudden contact, but as quickly as it had happened, you relaxed and focused back on the directions. He could not help the growing smirk on his face. If you had seen it, you would have asked what was funny or even smacked the back of his head for being "weird." But you could not see it.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who always knew you had a small digital camera with you wherever you went. Upon seeing something you deemed beautiful, you would click a photo of it. As of late, you had taken quite a few photos with your camera and sometimes made Su-bong wonder if there was something you did not label as beautiful.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who once stole your camera from where it was lying on the ground and turned it so the lens was turned towards him and snapped about seven or eight photos of himself. Swiftly, he then put the camera down as if it had always lain there untouched. You did not end up finding out until three days later when you went to print out some photos for your wall. You had to cover your mouth to not attract attention in the small store as you looked at the photos, also a bit surprised he got himself somewhat in frame. Su-bong did hear from you later that day about it, but he did not know you had actually not been able to resist printing three of them.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had never been in your family's apartment during the whole summer. As you put it, your neighbours, an elderly couple who had known you and your parents for many years, would more than likely tell your parents that a boy had been with you. But he did not blame you; this whole hanging-out idea was his to begin with.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who one night found himself wandering around your neighbourhood alone, escaping the hellhole of home his parents made it when they both were home at once. Glancing down the familiar road, he pulled out his phone, starting to type a quick message while walking down it. Once he spotted the window he was looking for, he saw a lamp had to be on even if the light curtains were drawn. With that, he sent the message. "Look outside."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only seconds later watched as the curtains were opened and you looked out your window. A minute later your window was open, and you looked down at him.

"What the hell are you doing here? It's past midnight!" You whispered harshly down to the boy. He could not keep from smirking.

"I missed you, angel. Can I come up?"

You shook your head but leaned out a little further in the window, gently clapping your hands as a signal for him to throw up his backpack. Su-bong did so, and you caught it with ease, pulling it through the window and placing it on your floor. "You're insane."

When you pulled back into your room, swiftly moving to lock your door, it did not take more than two minutes before Su-bong's head peeked inside your window. You walked over, holding out a hand to help him inside with as little noise as possible.

Climbing in through your window, he took a quick glance around your room. It was small but in a cosy way. Quietly he stepped down into your room, stumbling a little, from the window, and felt you loosen your grip on his hand, so he let go.

"You're lucky my parents are sleeping. They will kill me if they hear you." You said in a low voice while closing the window and drawing your curtains again.

"Relax. I'm like a ninja." Su-bong joked, but the usual edge to it was missing.

"You're a walking disaster." You turned around and faced him. "Seriously though, Su-bong, what are you doing here?"

There was nothing accusatory in your tone, so he shrugged while looking around, eyeing the music sheet on your desk. He then shrugged before answering. "Just didn't feel like being home. Can I stay?"

"I—..." You cut yourself off, your face turning with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'll just hang out here; you can do whatever you were doing."

You just stared at him.

"I'll be quiet. Promise."

A small smile pulled on your lips as you watched him look over the books on your bookshelf. "Sure. But if my parents hear you, I'll tell them you broke in.”

"Fair game, angel." Su-bong nodded and gave a light chuckle at your comment; his teasing smirk then returned. "So, this is where the magic happens.

"Oh, shut up!"

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made himself comfortable on your bed with his Nintendo and MP3 player as you continued to look over some things for your next violin lesson.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who in a quiet voice made a comment about Soo-min and Ha-eun really having a whole wall that was almost explicitly containing photos of them and you. For the fun of it, he teasingly asked what he needed to do to end up on that wall. In response, all he got from you was "To stop annoying me." That would be impossible.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you sternly told he should not sleep on the floor, but that he also had to keep to his own side of the bed if he did not want to get kicked out. Little did either of you know that both of you experienced an increase in heartbeats.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who a few days later repaid you for risking getting caught and allowing him to stay over with the typical convenience store snacks you liked. But you seemingly made no big deal out of it all.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who noticed you no longer just took photos of the landscape but had caught you snapping a few of him too. At times he would grab it from you and insist on taking one together, to which you did not say no. While these photos could not make their way on your wall without your parents questioning it, you still printed them and kept them in your desk. They laid with your favourite photos of you, Soo-min, and Ha-eun.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who noticed that you no longer would have a reaction whenever he called you angel. You went from telling him to stop it to not even blinking at the use of the nickname. At times, though, you would smile a little at the use of it, which Su-bong could not help but notice.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was completely and utterly baffled to learn that you had never really listened to rap before, even if you would let him ramble on about it as if you understood. When you admitted this to him, he went wide-eyed, yelling out a loud "What?" while staring at you. This led to a long interrogation by Su-bong to figure out how you had never listened to the genre.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made it his own mission to indoctrinate you into rap. It began with playing music from his MP3 player, watching you like a hawk for any sign that you liked the songs. When he would see your head moving the slightest to the beats, slowly bobbing your head along, he would nudge your shoulder while saying that you were finally listening to "real" music.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who started to, without your knowledge, download rap on a new MP3 player he'd bought. It was songs he considered the standard, basic but still good songs. All so you could somehow get into the genre even more on your own. When he was done for the night, he sat back and answered a message from Min-ki, only to then completely question his actions.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who felt like he was going through an existential crisis when it finally hit him that all he had been doing as of late was not something he'd even do for Min-ki or Dong-hyun. It all hit him like bricks being thrown in his face.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who now could explain why he felt like he gained something from hearing you laugh at his jokes. He now has his explanation as to why he wants you to listen to this music so much. He had to sit down on his bed and put his head in his hands, saying a single thing to himself, "Oh, fuck me."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went to sleep that night still in complete shock at this new revelation. How did he, of all people, find himself having feelings for a girl who less than a year ago he would not even know a single thing about?

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the next day had the MP3 player in his back pocket the whole time you and he hung out. He was acting the same as always, jokes flying out left and right and endless teasing that made you simply shake your head. Whenever there was a silence that stretched for longer than a minute, he contemplated just handing you the MP3 player. He could just say it was one of his old ones and claim it was since you seemingly liked rap so much. But he put it off.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had just jumped off your bike as you slowed down to get off when you said you and your parents were going away the last five days of summer break, which was next week.

"Angel... no." He spoke as if you had just betrayed him in the worst way possible. You could not help but crack a sheepish smile at his antics.

"It's just for five days—" You went to explain, but his mouth went wider and immediately interrupted you.

"Five days? First Min-ki, then Dong-hyun, and now you? You're all ditching me. Do you want me to go crazy and start talking to myself?" He walked closer to you, trying to stay serious, but when you began laughing lightly, he could not help but crack a smile.

He was playing around; of course he would not die without you for five days. But he had taken notice that you, unlike many others, did not find his overdramatic joking annoying but endearing.

"You already talk to yourself." You pointed out to him with a small smile.

"That's besides the point,"

"I will have my phone. We'll still be able to talk."

"Hm," Su-bong hummed, agreeing that did work. His hands slipped inside his pockets, his right hand gracing the MP3 player still in his pockets.

You shook your head, grabbing the handles of your bikes and beginning to walk the short way to your home. He quickly caught up, an arm finding its way over your shoulder. He could not help but like that you did not pull away from him, letting him hook his arm around you.

"Alright, angel. Since you're ditching me, you owe me—we hang out every day until you leave. No excuses."

"Sure." You shook your head at him. "Damn drama queen."

"Hey!"

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later the next week, after having hung out every day without any excuses like you agreed to, still had the MP3 player in his back pocket. He found himself taking it out of his pocket when getting home every day and fiddling with it, like trying to think of when the perfect time to give it to you would be.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the night before you were going away insisted the two of you go to the abandoned rooftop. Once there, he lit himself a cigarette as the two of you talked and joked about anything you could think about.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who raised his brows when you got a call from Soo-min as the two of you were talking. You answered without hesitation, and from how you were talking, he could tell you had not told her either about the two of you hanging out. A mischievous expression took over his face as he stepped on the cigarette.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who out of nowhere grabbed your wrist and yanked the phone towards himself so he could yell out a hello to Soo-min on the other line. You swiftly smacked him in the head with your hand as he laughed when hearing Soo-min's confused voice. You had rushed out a goodbye before turning and, while laughing, telling him it was not funny. But still, the thought of how Soo-min's face must have looked kept you both laughing for longer than it should have.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later, when you were both walking back home, pulled out the MP3 player and handed it to you. At your confused face, he explained it had some good songs on it, just to get you started on rap. Jokingly he said you would now have something good to listen to during your almost three-hour car ride the next day.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made up the excuse that the MP3 player was one of his old ones that he no longer used when you thanked him but said you could not take it. He turned away, hands in his pockets after so you could not see his face, all while shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing special. You did not say that you knew he was lying; the MP3 player looked way too new. But it made your heart swell.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the next day, for once during the whole summer, could not simply shoot you a text or even call to ask what you were up to because he already knew. You were in a car on your way to your grandparents.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who spent that first day more bored than he remembered himself being that first week of summer break. The majority of the time he spent in his room, playing games and only walking downstairs once that night when his parents were home to take up some food for himself.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the next day went out on his own, having talked to Dong-hyun, who were going to come back the next day, late, when it was only two days until school started again. He found himself visiting all the places that you and he would go to.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who headed for the convenience store around 11 pm, the same one you and he visited, picking out some snacks and a drink for himself. When paying, the same guy that usually worked was there. The worker glanced around the aisles while scanning everything Su-bong had picked up.

"Where's that girlfriend of yours?" The worker, a twenty-something old guy, spoke suddenly and with a hint of curiosity.

Su-bong, who had his earbuds in and music from his MP3 player loudly playing in his ears, did not fully hear what the guy had said. He pulled the earbuds from his ears by the cable and furrowed his brows in confusion. "Huh?"

"The girl you're always here with." The worker cleared up, then let out a slight laugh before speaking again. "What, she finally ditched you?"

"She didn't ditch me, man. She's out of town." Su-bong spoke with a hint of annoyance, having hoped it would've been a quick in-and-out of the store.

"So, she is your girlfriend."

"Mind your own business."

"Damn, touchy." The worker smirked. "Thought you'd just say no."

Su-bong grabbed the cash from his pocket and unceremoniously slammed it onto the counter, startling the guy a little. He then snatched back his soda and snacks.

"Maybe I just don't like nosy cashiers who talk too much."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, once he was outside, sat himself down on the curb and popped open the bag of snacks just as his phone began buzzing. While chewing on a chip, he picked it up with furrowed brows, but when seeing your name on the small screen, he did not hesitate to answer it.

"Well, well, would you look at that—one might actually think you are missing me, angel."

There was a pause before you scoffed lightly on the other side of the phone. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Too late," he answered. "You've been gone less than two days, and now you are calling me first? I'm basically a priority at this point."

"You are so full of yourself."

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who talked with you for almost an hour that night, getting to know all you'd done while away. He liked it, sitting and listening to you explain the things you had done with your family ever since getting to your grandparents. While talking to you, he slowly began making his way home, occasionally taking a sip or two of his soda.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who spent the whole day after all on his own. But he at least figured out what to do besides being outside. The majority of it consisted of him playing games and listening to music, going out to have a cigarette once. But later that night, he not only got a call from you but also a message from Dong-hyun that he was back and wanted to meet up the next day.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who even if Dong-hyun came back and they hung out the last two days of summer break, got a few texts here and there from you, as if updating him on the strangest things you could think of. But he still appreciated that you still wanted to talk, seemingly having not grown tired of him yet.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only shrugged and told Dong-hyun that his summer had been pretty uneventful. Su-bong vaguely told him that he kept himself busy while he and Min-ki were away. When Dong-hyun questioned this, saying that many of his calls had not been answered until late and that Min-ki had told him the same, as many of their mails had gone unannounced, all Su-bong did was shrug and repeat he had kept himself busy.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had to withstand Dong-hyun asking him repeatedly to actually tell him what he had been up to all summer. It was like he had become a walking headache to Su-bong; whenever he thought his friend was done asking, a new try at getting information from him was tried. Of course, Su-bong would not tell Dong-hyun and Min-ki—he respected you and did not want to have them running off and telling everyone in school on the first day, especially if you didn't want that.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who actually felt a bit bothered thinking about what would happen when school started again. He heavily disliked the thought of having to act like the two of you were not friends in school, too. With your parents, he understood, and he respected it heavily. Maybe if he did not feel the way he did for you, maybe if you were only a friend to him, it would not be such a bother. But you were not just a friend. No matter how he wanted to feel.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who were hanging out with Dong-hyun and Min-ki, who had just returned, the day before school started, felt his phone vibrate a little. When he picked it up and saw you had written that you were on your way home, he could not help but smile at knowing you would be back. It did not go unnoticed by his two friends; Dong-hyun immediately accused him of having a secret girlfriend, which made Min-ki raise his eyebrows in confusion.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went to school the next day, was immediately swept up by Dong-hyun and Min-ki, along with some of the other guys in the same class. All of them were catching up outside before even walking inside school, seeing as there was a long time till they had to actually be in class.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was deep in conversation with four other guys from your class when he spotted your familiar face. You were smiling as you slowed down your bike to park it, along with Soo-min and Ha-eun, who went to do the same. His eyes followed you as you hooked arms with Soo-min as Ha-eun was clearly telling the two of you something.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got nudged by one of your classmates, Woo-jin, asking if he was even listening. He turned his eyes to the group of boys staring back at him, saying he zoned out, and they all shrugged, but the conversation continued nonetheless.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who caught your eye as you walked past the group of boys. Upon seeing him again, you shot him a smile and a small wave with your free hand that had not been hooked with Soo-min. When Su-bong noticed, he gave a slight smile and nod of acknowledgement. A part of him warmed upon seeing you again.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had to hear Dong-hyun, Min-ki, Woo-jin, and Ji-ho ask who that nod was for, as neither of them had seen your smile. Woo-jin and Ji-ho, both confused, got caught up by Min-ki and Dong-hyun about their speculation that Su-bong had spent the summer with someone.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, once they reached their classroom, felt like he had hit the jackpot. This year he sat one row behind you, diagonally to your right, from what he saw on the seating chart drawn upon the board.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sat down at his desk quietly at first, decided to sit and not speak with you if that was what you wanted, but his spirits were lifted when you spoke to him first. You had turned to him, mid-conversation with Hye-ran, smiling and saying hey.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you struck up a conversation with immediately, ignoring the confused looks on Soo-min's and Ha-eun's faces. You and Su-bong had never spoken like this before the summer. Sure, they knew you had tutored him last semester, but the two of you did not talk like this. This was new. The way you leaned closer and told about what you did those five days away.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had his conversation with you interrupted by Ha-eun, who finally asked since when you two were friends. Su-bong, who revelled in your slightly flustered expression, asked you to explain to your friends. He found it funny how when away from prying eyes, you were extremely calm, yet under the eyes of your best friends, you got flustered.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sat back and listened as you, without much detail, explained how the two of you bumped into each other during the summer and hung out a few times. He wanted to laugh out loud—a few times was an understatement. It also amused him how you left out certain details, as if Soo-min and Ha-eun would lecture you about it. Dong-hyun and Min-ki both sat beside him and whispered about how this explained everything.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got asked by Ha-eun and Soo-min if your parents knew the two of you had hung out, to which silence followed. The two girls had turned to you as if you had committed a crime for not telling them this.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who out of what had now become a habit, called you "angel" in front of both your and his friends. Your eyes had widened slightly while staring straight at Su-bong, who realised, but he could not help but pull an amused smile at your flustered face. The wide eyes from your friends that followed were as far as their shock could get, however, because just as they went to loudly ask their questions, the teacher entered the classroom.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who shrugged his shoulders at you when Ha-eun and Soo-min went to sit down, your eyes still on him. For the fun of it, before the teacher could speak, he whispered a quiet "Sorry, angel" to you. The people in front and behind the two of you heard, and your face heated up even more. Before turning to focus on the teacher, you shot Su-bong a pointed look, which earned a quiet laugh.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who prepared himself for you to lecture him after school, but did not expect what you did during lunch instead.

♬.ᐟ CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who barely had stood up to join Min-ki and Dong-hyun before you had stood up and grabbed his arm, effectively pulling him out of the classroom before your friends could get their hands on you. Dong-hyun and Min-ki whistled at the two of you before laughing along with some other boy in the class who had overheard. Soo-min and Ha-eun tried to catch up to the two of you but failed.

"Where are we—" He had barely any chance to process where you had dragged him off to before a hand hit him over the head. "Ow!"

"What the hell were you thinking calling me that in front of everyone? The whole class, at that!" You asked as Su-bong rubbed the back of his head. He took a glance at you before giving a slight grin to you.

"What? It's not like I said anything bad. Didn't you say you didn't care about that anymore?"

You stared at him for a moment, your face still hot from the embarrassment that had hit you when some of the boys whistled as you dragged Su-bong off. His grin made you narrow your eyes before swiftly giving him another whack.

"Ow! Calm down, woman!"

"I don't care. But you could have just let me tell Soo-min and Ha-eun properly before." You ignored his dramatics and crossed your arms. Still, your eyes softened when looking at him, but it went unnoticed by Su-bong, who started to speak.

"Well, you can’t blame me for being honest. It's not my fault you're—" Before he could get any further, he felt you gently wrap your arms over his shoulders in a quick but tight hug.

"It's good to see you again." You said softly to him, causing his heart to beat a little faster. Then, as quickly as you had hugged him, you pulled away. The boy quickly recovered.

"Five days and you miss me that much, huh?" He speaks with a teasing tone, nudging you lightly.

You rolled your eyes. "Don't push your luck."

"You know, you could have just said you missed me without hitting me first."

"Hm, that's boring, and you deserved it."

His grin softened into something more genuine. "It's good seeing you too, angel.”

— If you guys want a part 2, please tell me; I have even more ideas for this. Also, if you have an idea that I could add in that part, I'm always open to suggestions!

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aestherin · 3 days ago

Text

I CAN SEE YOU

track 02: make me

Given how much you loved making art, you could've held so much more exhibitions by now, if it weren't for the immense dread that comes with it. Not because of the exhaustion, but because of your own blood.

"Great! This is great!" Your father laughed, continuously patting your shoulders at the sheer delight of seeing the surges of people arriving at the gallery.

Funny, how they were very light pats yet never fail to weigh you down.

"Now you have to make better artworks so that the next exhibition could be better too!" He grinned. Still keeping you beside him, your father's eyes roamed around until he found a business friend of his. He gracefully nodded at the said friend's direction. In your family's dictionary, this gesture was meant to be an invite.

"Nice exhibition, [Name]." The stranger remarked as soon as he got near you and your father. "When's the next one?"

They both laughed.

And you found it sickening.

Was it really that funny to make light of your hard work and effort? Why are they talking about it as if it was easy to do? As if your paintings were mere commodities — machine-produced, basic, and standard.

Or maybe you were the problem. Maybe you were over-analyzing stuff and putting meaning into things that shouldn't and didn't have them in the first place. Maybe these two men were saying these things because they believe in you and your ability. Maybe it was a good thing.

Maybe you were in the wrong, thinking that they did not really appreciate what you just put out.

But was it really wrong to feel frustrated when people keep expecting more, when really, all you wanted at that moment was to take a break?

"Uhm —"

"You should start on the next one as soon as possible."

The additional statement of the stranger in front of you did nothing to quell your restlessness. One of your brows raised subtly without you noticing it.

"Actually, I plan to take a little break," you abruptly replied. You internally winced at how your voice sounded. The usual mask coating your words — the mask of softness and calmness — was absent. Instead, what seeped through was impudence.

And in the presence of your father, that was tantamount to committing a grave sin.

You fucked up.

The man in front of you just nodded and smiled awkwardly, bidding hurried yet still formal goodbyes to your father.

"[Name]!" Your father wasn't roaring, but there was an underlying threat to his deceivingly calm voice. There always was. "That is not how we talk to our business partners."

'Your business partner, father,' you thought.

"I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was merely exhausted."

He clicked his tongue. "A lifetime of learning etiquette and still making minor mistakes as a full-grown adult? How disappointing."

You remained silent.

"You better hope that disrespect you showed to him earlier wouldn't affect our long-term business relationship with them, unless you want to end up like your disappointment of a cousin."

He's talking about Eula.

Your elder cousin, who to you, was everything but a disappointment. How is it that they disapprove of her, when the only thing she has ever done was follow her dreams and speak for herself? How is it that they view her as a failure, when she was what you looked up to?

Perhaps, you might've even envied her. Her guts.

If you had them, you would have cut off the whole family a long time ago as well.

You took a deep breath, donning another calculated smile as you saw more people approaching.

I CAN SEE YOU — scara x reader smau

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blubunz · 2 days ago

Text

JUST TONIGHT

— bodyguard! leon s. kennedy x f! model! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: porn with plot, maybe slowburn? slight slowburn, pet names, fingering, masturbation.

A/N: a real sucker for this AU i just want myself a man like this tbh. anyways I write this when I can't sleep even though I clearly have to wake up early tomorrow. (Okay it's afternoon now um WHY IS THIS SO LONG😭 I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE LONG)

Throughout your career, you weren't in need for a strong, brooding figure to protect yourself, you weren't fond of having anyone watching over you — it made you feel like you're just a weak girl, a damsel in distress who always needs a knight by her side.

And you are, you need someone to be by your side and protecting you from harm. Sometimes you do reckless things, and not to mention those times where you made stupid decisions that almost cost you your life if not for Lady Luck. But Lady Luck can't stay with you forever, and you don't want to be living on edge so constantly. It makes you look like a madman and, most of all, losing sleep, bad schedule and then it escalated to affecting your career and hard work.

And that's why he's here.

You've heard of him before, not on the news, but through whispers and rumors. Of all the things you've heard from them, you're surprised how Leon isn't on the news as much, maybe he's laying low, or maybe he's working for the government, all private and redacted matters.

So then, how exactly did you manage to hire him?

For one, you're curious enough to search him up. His name isn't hard to find, and you admit he looks good, perfect for modeling. The problem is that he hardly uses social media. If he does, then maybe he goes by some other names, or he doesn't post a lot. You found out about Claire Redfield though, at first, she doesn't leave much impression to you, but the pictures she posted have that same familiar face, albeit Leon is looking like a grumpy uncle who would give bad advice to his nieces in each photo.

Once you've decided that it was enough to go stalking people's profiles, you go and make a call using your fame and broad connections in and out of your industry. You got his number in your contact within two days, and your hands are shaking as you try to call him.

It's not that you're scared of socializing, it's just that you're hesitant of making this decision, of finally have someone to protect your life, of admitting that you seek help and reassurance.

But, the possibilities of death and dark thoughts fill your mind quickly enough, and you convince yourself you need this, for your own sake.

“Hello?”

“Is this... Leon Kennedy?”

It's been a month since Leon's been here. Truth be told, he doesn't care much about how people are falling in love with you, mainly just your looks and charisma. He's heard of you many times, so many times, you keep appearing on magazines, billboards, the news, advertisements and more. God, there was this one prime time of your life where your face was practically everywhere! Not that you're no longer famous, but that was the time where your life was endangered the most by how crazy your fans were — another reason why Leon is here.

Upon interacting with you during your own time, Leon found out you're not like how the media portrays you to be. He isn't a stranger to it, seeing famous people and important figures always having to smile and maintain a certain persona for the sake of the community. Sure, you have that bit of yourself in it, but when he escorts you hone, it's when he sees your fatigue.

Your shoulders slump as you sigh, putting your bag on the coffee table as the TV is playing some shows for white noise, you're scared of the quietness — having thoughts that might hurt yourself. Leon closes the door and locks it safely, carrying your bag up to your room.

He doesn't need to do that, Leon's aware his job is to protect your life, not servicing you like a maid ir servant, but he keeps doing so, helping you with the small things like carrying your belonging, to making meals for you.

“You can't sleep now.” Leon sighs, seeing you lying on the couch, eyes closing. He doesn't want to startle you, so he picks you up and carries you into your bedroom, seating you by the make up table.

This is a change of pace for Leon, everything he does has to be careful for you. No longer picking up guns to shoot bio organism weapons or anything of the sort, instead he's now attending to a young model. Two different lives, and Leon finds himself hard to adjust, remembering the times you joke about him acting awkward sometimes when you tried to talk to him normally.

Your name comes out of his lips, sounding sweet and calm. And your eyes open, lazily rubbing off your make up while Leon prepares the bath for you.

“You don't have to do that.” You say once he steps out again, smelling a bit of the bath bomb he put in.

“I know. But, protecting your life is my job, and caring for your bare minimum needs is included.” He explains, and you just nod, not quite sure if they're connected in your mind.

Still, you let him undress you. Your cheeks flush at the way his fingers hook under your top to remove it, oh the slight contact when his hand brushes over your tits or ass. And sometimes you find it crazy how it's you that's the one being attracted to someone, and not Leon, who never advances himself on you, he doesn't even react when seeing your body, you find it weird, but intriguing too when your looks being the most important aspect of your industry, you've gotten used to the attention and the reactions.

In reality, Leon is still human, he admits your body is attractive, he wishes to lay his hands on your body with a more intimate intent, with more sensuality rather than just helping you with undressing or carrying you, his eyes linger on your skin, seeing that your body isn't that perfect as they claim to be, and he imagines himself kissing your flaws, to be the only one seeing your most intimate areas. But he's worked long enough not to let his feelings get involved, he can't bare it not after—

“You can... let me go.” Your voice cut through his thoughts, and Leon lets you go, he didn't even notice he was holding you still, zoning out and staring at the back of your neck.

“Right, sorry.” He clears his voice a little, sitting by your bed to wait for you to finish shower. He brushes a hand through his hair, finding himself longing for some alcohol to drown out this feeling. And that's also a problem. You've said you don't like the smell that lingers when he drinks, making excuses on how it affects your own scent, and people won't find you as attractive. He just stops drinking when he knows he'd have to see you later, not quitting for good, just pausing to prioritize his job — and in within case, his job means you.

Stepping in the shower, you can't help but fantasize about Leon, you can't believe that you fell for him first, and now you're imagining his hand cupping your mound, squeezing you and rubbing your clit. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed with clear displeasure on your face — your fingers aren't enough, you need a hand big like Leon's, to feel those rough pads of skin trailing down your body.

Grumbling in frustration, you go ahead and finish showering.

Leon finishes checking over the securities and ensuring that no one was lurking near your home, he get back to the living room only to see you in your robe, making some tea for yourself.

“Tea?” You ask, passing him the cup before he could say anything.

“Thanks.” He swallows, eyes flickering to your form hidden under the thin silk robe painted by your favorite color, somehow seeing your body like this is much more arousing than when you strip down naked, it teases his desire, and it leaves him chasing that tantalizing image. You catch his lingering gaze, and your eyes twinkle with a hopeful glea. Maybe he likes you too? Even if he's attracted to your looks, you can work your way with making him love you fully. After all, he's the only one who sees you in your most vulnerable moments. He's special, and you let him know of that privilege.

You head off to your room, with him following behind. Leon helps you with closing the curtains and removing your robe, palms firmly rubbing your shoulders. You shiver, letting the garment pool at your feet before seating on your bed in just your lingerie.

Leon tucks you in, and every time he does things like this, he gives you that flutter in your stomach, god, it's always the little things that get to you.

“Goodnight—”

“Leon, wait.” You reach up, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, and he looks at you with an unchanged expression.

“Yes?”

“Um...” You hesitate, will Leon find this weird? No, no, maybe you can make an excuse, saying that you're too paranoid. “Can you... stay in my room? Just tonight?”

Leon nods without hesitation or any questions. He sits by the chair near your makeup table and plans to just read something to pass the time.

“No, not there.” You say, your voice sounding abrupt as you try your best not to appear so needy. But you can't. You're just naturally so. “In my bed, please?”

Leon bites the inside of his cheeks to hold back his smile, you sound so cute with the little "please" as a cherry on top. He complies, sitting at the edge of your bed, a hand on your ankle.

“Is this good enough for you, princess?” He smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Or do you want me to hold you close, hm? Protect you from the monsters, yeah?”

“That... That wouldn't be a bother.” You murmur, and Leon takes it to heart, taking off his jacket and crawling up to your side. Leon gets you on his lap, pushing your head against his shoulder.

“Better?” He asks, voice muffled from his lips pressed against your hair, smelling your shampoo.

You nod, hiding your flustered face in Leon's shoulder, that elicits a laugh from him and he brushes your hair. He rubs your back soothingly, feeling your body relaxes under his grip.

Leon traces his hand down to your lower back, kneeding your soft buttocks. You take a sharp inhale, subtly pushing up against his palm.

His eyebrow raises, smirking against your hair before rubbing your thighs, and you spread your legs open for him. Leon doesn't say anything and just watches your reaction. He can feel you breathing down his neck. Your heart picks up its pace in excitement.

“Do you like this?” He keeps the pace slow, rubbing up to the waistband of your panties.

“Mhm...” You nod.

“Want more?”

“Mhm.” You nod again.

He hooks his finger under the band, and pulls the garment down, enough to let his hand slide in, brushing just over the top near your aching clit.

The moment his middle finger presses against your bud, you moan, hips twitching against his palm.

“Have you been dreaming about this?” Leon asks, and you only whimper in response. His finger moves down, collecting your juices and pulling out, tasting your essence on his finger.

“Me too.” Leon admits, and he shoves his hand back to your cunt, pushing a finger through your entrance.

“I've been wanting this too. Even more, wanna feel this tight cunt around my dick instead.” He groans, the way your walls tighten around his finger is enough to make his cock leaking pre-cum. “Fuck— you're so tight already, hm? I bet you cum with just my fingers.”

You mewl, hips rutting against his palm, and Leon pushes another finger in, spreading your pussy open so that you can fit his cock.

“Oh, god, Leonnnnn!” Your eyes roll up as he pumps his fingers in and out of your cunt, juices drooling down his hand. “Mngh, f-fuck—”

“Good girl.” Leon whispers, kissing down your neck whilst your body trembles, shaking high in pleasure. “That's it.”

His thumb rubbing harshly against your clit, making your whines higher and higher, you sound so needy and desperate, an side of you that you don't want anyone to see — anyone but Leon.

Leon grunts, feeling your juices dampening his pants, right against his bulge. His cock throbbing in his pants, just aching to pound that tight pussy of yours. But he puts you first, making you cum and high in ecstasy.

“Mm, gonna cum, baby?” He coos, feeling your cunt clamping down his fingers. “Cum, baby, be a good girl and cum f' me.” He increases the pace and intensity of his thrusts, dreaming of them being his cock instead.

You moan loudly as you squirt against his palm, and your knees buckle, legs shaking and body trembling as you collapse on his body.

“Gooood girl.” Leon kisses your forehead, rubbing your back with a free hand while he sucks off your juices from his fingers. “Now, ready for the main event?”

You feel his cock twitches under you, and you can feel yourself heating up again. You gulp, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his bulge.

“Yeah.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #— barbwire writes

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slytherin-pen · 3 days ago

Text

Kindling the Flame

pairing: Eris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, Eris is scared but nothing happens

all acotar credits belong to sjm

a/n: yay! i’m back from the dead. not super proud of this one but it was one of my few wips that were close to being finished when i decided to get back to it. i’d been going through some adhd paralysis and health issues but hopefully i’ll be back to normal soon.

Eris Vanserra paced the length of the room, his boots whispering across the hardwood floor of your shared bedroom. His face, usually calm and composed, was marred with worry. His gaze darted back to you, lying on the bed with a damp cloth pressed to your forehead, your skin pale and clammy.

"Love," he murmured, his voice a soft, worried rumble as he knelt beside the bed. "You need to eat something. Just a little. Please."

You shook your head, the mere thought of food sending another wave of nausea rolling through you. "I can't, Eris," you whispered, voice strained and tired. "Everything makes me sick."

Eris’ jaw clenched, his mate instincts screaming at him to protect you, to make this better somehow. Yet, he was helpless against this invisible force causing you so much distress. He brushed a few stray sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face, his fingers gentle as they lingered on your skin.

He had never felt this powerless. His magic could command flames, and his influence could sway an entire Court, but he could do nothing against this. This cruel twist of fate that left you so ill, so fragile. A dream of having a child together had become his current nightmare. The little fireling was sucking everything out of you, and as the days passed it was getting harder to get anything in you. A mix of wonder and dread filled his chest. He was thrilled to become a father, to hold your baby in his arms, but this? Watching you suffer, unable to do a thing? Watch as the life drains out of you, as your cheeks hollow out, and the joy that once filled your eyes is replaced with fear? It was unbearable.

He tried to reflect on his mother’s pregnancies. So many centuries ago now but he could remember them briefly. Perses, and the twins, August and Aethon, had been easy for Phoebe in the beginning. She claimed to have not had many symptoms until the third trimester. With Killian and Macareus she had some slight hiccups, nausea in the beginning being one of them. He nearly thought of her pregnancy with Lucien and quickly slammed the door of his mind on that thought. It was the one pregnancy Phoebe had struggled with during labor, thanks to his cruel father. His mate did not need those stress-inducing memories, she needed to eat.

"I’ll try some tea," he suggested, forcing calm into his voice even as his heart raced. "Ginger, maybe. It might help settle your stomach and then we’ll go from there."

You nodded weakly, knowing he was trying his best. "Alright," you murmured, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaving the room.

In the kitchen, Eris moved swiftly, hands shaking slightly as he prepared the tea. He felt a rush of frustration that he couldn't simply snap his fingers and make you better. He wanted to burn away your sickness with his flames, to destroy whatever was causing you pain, but he couldn't. This was your pregnancy, your body nurturing the tiny life within you. He had to be patient. You’ve barely entered the second trimester and it already felt like he was close to losing you. After witnessing the birth of his six siblings he knew this was supposed to be the least dangerous part. Sure, not being able to eat certain foods anymore and lighting cinnamon candles all around the house to block out the less-than-savory scents was expected. He had hoped you would get some relief by the second semester as his mother had, calling it the eye of the storm, but your condition has only worsened over time. What was once a short list of foods to avoid has become endless, your nights are sleepless as you toss and turn with insomnia, and the way your emotions changed throughout the day reminded him of the money scale sitting on the desk in his office.

Returning to the bedroom, he found you curled up tighter on the bed, your face pinched with discomfort. "Here, my flame," he coaxed, sitting beside you and helping you sit up, holding the teacup to your lips. "Try a few sips."

You took a tentative sip, grimacing slightly at the taste but managing to swallow. Eris’ hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles there. "That’s it," he encouraged softly. "A little more."

The tea felt warm going down, and you managed a few more sips before the nausea surged again. Eris' face fell as he saw you press a hand to your mouth, trying to fight it down.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling tears prick at your eyes as you leaned over the side of the bed. He was immediately there, grabbing the small trashcan on the floor and holding your hair back, murmuring reassurances even as he felt a stab of panic shoot through him.

"Don't apologize, love," he murmured once the wave had passed, wiping your mouth gently with a damp cloth. "None of this is your fault."

"But I know it worries you," you whispered, voice small and fragile. "I don’t want to cause you pain."

Eris’ chest tightened. “You don’t. Not in the way you think,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I just… I hate that I can’t make it better. That I can’t take this from you. I’m so afraid of losing you, and I don’t like seeing you suffer.”

You reached out, your hand finding his, squeezing it with whatever strength you had left. "I’m okay," you assured him, even though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true. "It’s worth it. For our baby."

His heart softened at your words, his free hand moving to your stomach, resting there gently. “Our baby,” he echoed, a faint smile on his lips. “I know. And I’m excited, love, more than you know. But if anything happened to you…” He trailed off, the fear evident in his amber eyes.

You leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep into your skin. “Nothing will happen,” you whispered, but your voice was tired and not as confident as you’d hoped. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Eris nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn’t fully ease. He pulled you closer, cradling you against him as if he could shield you from the sickness. “Let me try making some broth,” he offered, his voice determined. “Just a little. It’s light, and it might stay down.”

You nodded, too tired to argue, and he pressed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly pulling away again. He busied himself in the kitchen, channeling his worry into careful preparation, pouring all his love and care into the simple task.

When he returned with the steaming bowl, he sat on the edge of the bed, lifting the spoon to your lips. “Just a sip,” he encouraged gently. “For me?”

You smiled faintly and took the spoonful, managing to swallow. The warmth of the broth spread through you, soothing the ache in your empty stomach, and you nodded for another. Eris’ heart lifted slightly, his hope rekindled.

“Good,” he praised softly, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Take your time.”

You took a few more sips before the nausea started to build again, and Eris quickly set the bowl aside, ready to help you if needed. But this time, the sickness didn’t overwhelm you, and you managed to take a deep breath, leaning back against the pillows.

“See?” he murmured, a small, proud smile on his lips. “You’re stronger than this, my love. We’ll get through it together.”

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion pulling at you. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank you, Eris. For everything.”

He pressed another kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with love for you. “Always,” he promised softly. “I’ll always be here.”

And as you drifted off to sleep, he stayed by your side, his hand resting protectively over your stomach, his heart full of determination. Whatever it took, he would see you through this. You were his mate, his love, and nothing would stand in his way.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar fandom #eris x y/n #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader

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vxlentinescookies · 3 days ago

Note

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them.

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books. So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here”

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god?

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner.

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

#🌙;stellar headcanons #🌙;moonlit dreams #⭐; Self Aware AU #longan dragon cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #timekeeper cookie x reader #millennial tree cookie x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #crob x reader

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jd-loves-fiction · 3 days ago

Note

Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

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rizzanon · 21 hours ago

Text

Robin and the Stray

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. alfred | m.list

Summary: your brother asks (forced) you to help him hide another stray he took in from Alfred and Bruce

The Batcave was too quiet. That was never a good sign.

You had come here straight after patrol, expecting to give your usual report to Bruce. It was part of the routine—come back, debrief, go over anything of note, then finally get some rest. Tonight hadn’t been particularly eventful, just a few scattered crimes and a break-in attempt that was over before it even began, but Bruce liked to be updated.

Except Bruce wasn’t here.

Neither was Alfred. Or Tim. Or literally anyone else.

The only person in the entire cave was Damian.

And that was your first red flag.

Your younger brother, Damian Wayne, was standing near the Batcomputer, arms crossed, shoulders squared, his back to you. On the surface, he looked as put-together as ever—collected, self-assured, carrying that same air of superiority that he always did.

But you knew him too well.

There was something off about him.

You saw the way his fingers tapped against his arm—not absentmindedly, but rhythmically. Too slow to be impatience, too deliberate to be nothing. You saw the way he was shifting his weight just enough to make it look like he was standing naturally, except it wasn’t natural. It was controlled. Forced.

Most importantly?

He hadn’t acknowledged you yet.

Damian always acknowledged when someone entered a room. If it were Bruce or Tim, he would’ve already started spouting some dry remark about how long it took them to return. If it were you, he usually had something equally annoying to say about your form, your “tardiness”, your ability to complete patrols at an acceptable speed.

But now? He was deliberately ignoring you.

And that meant one thing.

He was hiding something.

You narrowed your eyes. Suspicious.

“Alright,” you said, setting your hands on your hips. “What did you do?”

Damian barely moved. If it weren’t for the slow exhale through his nose, you would’ve thought he hadn’t heard you. Then, finally, he turned to face you, arms still crossed. His expression was unreadable.

“I have done nothing.”

You blinked at him. “Yeah, see, that’s exactly what guilty people say.”

He scowled. “Your paranoia is unbecoming.”

“And your lying is terrible.” you said, stepping closer.

Damian scoffed again, like you were the most annoying person in existence. “I am not lying.”

“You are lying.”

“Tt. This is a waste of time.”

“It’s my time, and I’ll waste it however I want.”

Damian rolled his eyes and turned away, facing the Batcomputer again like the conversation was over. But the fact that he wanted it to be over so quickly just confirmed your suspicions.

You squinted at him, scrutinizing every little movement. The way his shoulders were still slightly tense, the way his ears twitched just a little too much at every tiny sound—he was nervous about something.

Damian lets out an exasperated sigh and finally turned to you once more, looking—if nothing else—annoyed. “I have done nothing.”

“You say that, but you’re acting weird.”

“Perhaps I am merely tired.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t get tired.”

Damian’s nose wrinkled slightly, a flicker of irritation flashing across his face. “Is there a reason you are pestering me?”

“Yeah, because you’re acting weird.”

“I am acting normal.”

“No, you’re acting like you’re hiding something.”

“That is absurd—”

And then, you heard it.

A noise.

Soft. Barely there.

A tiny, high-pitched whimper.

You froze.

The sound bounced off the cavernous walls of the Batcave, subtle but unmistakable. A normal person wouldn’t have caught it. But in a space this empty, with only the two of you standing there, of course you heard it.

Your eyes snapped toward the sound.

Damian went completely still.

It lasted only a second before he forced himself to move again, rolling his shoulders back, fixing his posture, trying to act unbothered.

You weren’t buying it.

Your gaze flickered between him and the direction of the noise—somewhere behind some supply crates.

Your eyes narrowed instantly. “Damian.”

He went rigid. It lasted half a second before he forced himself to relax, rolling his shoulders back with an exaggerated huff.

You took a slow step toward him. “What was that?”

“…What was what?”

You leveled him with a look.

Damian scoffed. “Perhaps your hearing is deteriorating. I heard nothing.”

Damian exhaled sharply, crossing his arms tighter. “Perhaps your hearing is deteriorating. I heard nothing.”

You almost laughed at the blatant lie. “Damian.”

He didn’t move.

“Oh my god.” You rubbed a hand down your face, exasperated. “You suck at lying, you know that?”

“I do not lie.”

“Then tell me what that noise was.”

“…You imagined it.”

Another tiny whimper.

Your eyes darted toward the crates again.

Oh, you had him now.

“Move,” you ordered.

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I do not see why you are making a fuss over nothing.”

“Argh.” You dragged a hand down your face. “You know I’m not gonna drop this, right?”

“Tt.”

You folded your arms. “Damian.”

“I am growing weary of hearing my name.”

“Then stop making me say it.”

Damian scowled, and for a moment, you thought he’d keep up the act. But then he sighed, long and very put-upon, like you were the one being difficult, and turned on his heel.

Without another word, he stepped around the crates, crouched down, and reached into the shadows.

When he straightened, he was holding…

A kitten.

A very small kitten.

A tiny, scrappy-looking thing with light fur and big black eyes, staring up at you like it had no idea how it got here.

You stared at it. Then at Damian. Then back at the kitten.

“…Are you kidding me?”

Damian ignored you, adjusting his hold on the kitten, making sure its tiny paws were tucked close to his chest.

That was what stunned you the most—not the fact that he had smuggled a stray into the Batcave, not the fact that he had tried so hard to act like nothing was going on, but this.

The way he was holding it.

So careful. So gentle.

You had seen Damian handle swords, daggers, throwing knives, weapons of every kind, but you had never seen him hold something with this much care. Like he was afraid it might break if he wasn’t careful. Like it was fragile.

Your heart melted instantly.

“…Oh my God,” you muttered. “This is so unfair.”

Damian smirked, smug. “I knew you would understand.”

“No, I don’t understand! Damian, you cannot keep doing this—”

“They would have left her to die,” he interrupted sharply, his fingers curling slightly around the kitten, almost protective.

That shut you up fast.

Because you knew what he meant by they. Whoever had abandoned the kitten. The people who had tossed it aside, left it to fend for itself. The people who hadn’t cared.

Damian cared.

He would never admit it, but he cared.

But of course he cared. It was one of the few things he actually cared about openly. The amount of pets you already had was proof enough—Ace, Alfred (the cat, not the butler, though it was still funny every time Alfred called for the cat and it confused everyone), and worst of all, Goliath, the actual dragon-bat creature Damian had somehow acquired.

That was already a lot.

And now?

Now there was this.

You let out a slow breath. “Damian.”

“Yes?”

“You realize Alfred is going to strangle both of us, right?”

Damian’s face remained infuriatingly neutral. “I fail to see how this is my problem.”

You gawked at him. “You are the one who brought a stray into the Batcave!”

“You are the one assuming I will fail to hide it.”

“You will fail to hide it! This cave is huge, but Alfred sees everything!”

Damian scoffed. “Perhaps you are simply incompetent at hiding things.”

“Oh my god, Damian—” You gestured at the tiny kitten in his arms. “Where did you even find it?”

“…That is irrelevant.”

“It is very relevant.”

Damian huffed, adjusting his hold on the kitten as it curled into his chest. You hated how cute it was. It wasn’t fair. “Are you going to assist me or not?”

“Assist you?” You narrowed your eyes. “What exactly do you think I’m gonna do here?”

He met your gaze, steady and unwavering. “Help me hide it.”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

Because what exactly could you say? You certainly couldn’t chase this kitten out. Not when it was this cute.

You exhaled, already knowing you were going to regret this. “Fine,” you muttered. “We’ll figure something out.”

Damian smirked, just a little. It was an obnoxious little smirk, one that screamed I win, and you hated it.

“I knew you would see reason.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You groaned, reaching out to scratch the kitten’s head. It blinked up at you, tiny and warm and absolutely helpless.

“This is going to be a disaster,” you grumbled.

Damian hummed, nonchalant. “Not if we do it right.”

You sighed.

The kitten mewled.

It really was adorable.

“…It’s cuter than Alfred.”

Damian’s smirk vanished in an instant. His expression immediately flattened. “Do not compare the two.”

You huffed. “I’m just saying. This one is smaller, it’s got those huge boba-like eyes—”

“Alfred is perfectly proportioned.”

“This one is cuter.”

“You’re a fool to compare the two.”

“I have eyes, Damian—”

“Perhaps they are defective.”

You groaned. “Seriously?”

And the kitten mewled again, nestling further into Damian’s arms.

You were so, so doomed.

Damian’s room was dark, save for the moonlight filtering in through the window. The walls were lined with shelves—books, weapons, a few trophies from missions. Everything in here was organized precisely the way he wanted it. No room for clutter, no misplaced items, no sign of disorganization.

And now?

Now there was a tiny kitten sitting on his bed.

You stood next to Damian, arms crossed, staring at the small bundle of fur that was currently curled up in the middle of his sheets. The kitten, utterly unconcerned, merely yawned, its tiny pink tongue flicking out before tucking its paws beneath itself, nestling deeper into the sheets like it owned the place.

“…Okay,” you said slowly. “So, how exactly do you plan on hiding it?”

Damian huffed, crossing his arms. “That is what we are currently determining.”

“Right. And by we, you mean me, because I know you don’t have a plan.”

“I do have a plan.”

“You don’t.”

Damian scoffed, lifting his chin. “Tt. I would not have brought her here if I did not have a plan.”

You arched a brow. “Oh really? Enlighten me then.”

There was a beat of silence.

Damian opened his mouth.

Paused.

Closed it.

And then crossed his arms tighter.

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He shot you a glare. “I was in the process of formulating one before you interrupted.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

The kitten let out a tiny noise—somewhere between a sigh and a sleepy meow. You hated how insanely cute it was. It made this entire situation so much worse.

Damian, ever the stoic one, didn’t react outwardly, but you caught the minute twitch of his fingers, like he had wanted to reach out but stopped himself.

Yeah. You knew he was already attached.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Okay. First things first. We need to make sure she doesn’t leave this room.”

Damian scoffed. “You believe I would be careless enough to allow that?”

“I dunno, Damian. I did catch you trying to act like nothing was going on when she was literally making noise.”

His eye twitched. “You are infuriating.”

“And you’re the one who dragged me into this.”

Damian rolled his eyes and turned away, crouching down near the foot of his bed. He pulled out a small folded blanket, shaking it out before placing it neatly in the corner of his room.

You lifted a brow. “You’re making her a bed?”

“Of course. She requires proper rest.”

You gave him a look. “Damian.”

He didn’t meet your eyes, instead adjusting the blanket with too much precision. “What?”

“You realize you’re already attached, right?”

Damian didn’t look up. “Do not be ridiculous.”

“You are.”

“I am merely ensuring her comfort.”

“Uh-huh.” You smirked. “Sounds like attachment to me.”

He finally looked up just to glare at you. “Shut up.”

“Can’t. It’s too much fun annoying you.”

He muttered something under his breath—probably an insult no doubt.

You grinned, stepping over to the kitten. She blinked up at you, sleepy, tiny, warm. You lifted a hand, scratching behind her ears.

“…We’re so screwed,” you muttered.

Damian scoffed. “Only if we are incompetent.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s your brilliant plan for when Alfred inevitably finds out?”

“We will ensure that does not happen.”

You deadpanned. “Oh wow, what a genius plan. Amazing.”

Damian huffed, flicking your forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Perhaps you will learn to hold your tongue.”

“You flicked my forehead! That was so unnecessary!”

“You are being dramatic.”

“I’m being realistic!”

“You are being obnoxious.”

“Damian Wayne—”

Knock knock.

You both froze.

Your heads snapped toward the door at the same time.

A pause.

Your heart jumped into your throat. You had seconds to react.

And instinct took over.

You lunged for the kitten, scooping it up in your hands and rushing toward the closet. Damian was already moving, stepping toward the door like nothing was wrong, keeping his expression schooled into its usual unreadable mask.

You flung the door open, eyes darting around. Shoes, weapons, neatly arranged training gear—nowhere soft enough.

Your hands scrambled for something. Anything.

Your fingers found a spare pillow tucked against the corner.

You gently placed the kitten on it, adjusting her tiny body so she was curled into the fabric. You barely breathed, watching her eyes flutter open—just for a second—before slowly closing again.

She didn’t move.

Good.

Very good.

You shut the closet door with slow, precise movements, then turned on your heel and strode back to Damian’s side just as the door swung open.

Alfred.

Your stomach dropped.

The butler stood at the doorway, eyes sweeping the room. His gaze landed on you, and for a fraction of a second, you saw something—surprise. His expression barely changed, but his eyes flickered, his brows shifting ever so slightly before he schooled his features again.

“I was not expecting to see you in Master Damian’s room, Miss (Name).”

Shit.

It hit you in that moment.

Damian was always the one barging into your room.

Not the other way around.

This—this—was weird.

Suspicious.

Damian, the little menace, barely hesitated. He huffed, tilting his chin up with exaggerated irritation. “Oh, please. You say that as if I would willingly allow her to linger in my space.”

Your eye twitched.

Oh. Oh, you little—

You turned to glare at him.

Damian shot you a look.

A look that very clearly said, Play along.

You gritted your teeth, but you played along.

Forcibly.

Scoffing, you crossed your arms, rolling your eyes with the most dramatic exasperation you could muster. “Excuse me?”

Alfred’s lips twitched in amusement.

Damian, ever the actor, sighed heavily, as if merely existing in your presence was a burden. “You are incredibly difficult to remove.”

You let out a scoff of mock offense. “Wow. Rude.”

“Merely a fact.”

Alfred, clearly unimpressed by the sibling bickering, simply cleared his throat. “Dinner is ready. You two should head down soon.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, shutting the door behind him.

Silence.

Stillness.

Neither of you moved.

You waited.

Counted the seconds.

Listened.

The moment you were sure Alfred was gone, you exhaled hard.

You turned to Damian, who looked just as tense as you had felt. His shoulders, usually squared and stiff with perfect posture, were slightly looser now.

You huffed. “That was way too close.”

Damian smirked, though there was the barest flicker of relief in his eyes. “You are dramatic.”

“You were nervous.”

“I was not.”

“You were.”

“Prove it.”

You squinted at him. “Your shoulders were stiff.”

“My shoulders are always stiff.” He grumbles, folding his arms.

“Yeah, but you were extra stiff.”

“Tt.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “We are so screwed.”

“Not if we are careful.”

“You mean if I’m careful.”

Damian just smirked at you. “Precisely.”

You glared.

He then turned on his heel and strode toward the door, pausing only to glance at you over his shoulder.

“Come,” he said simply. “Dinner awaits.”

You sighed, sending one last look toward the closet.

The kitten was still inside.

Still quiet.

Still hidden.

For now.

You exhaled and followed Damian out, already knowing that this was only the beginning of the chaos to come.

A whole week.

A whole week, and somehow—somehow��you and Damian had managed to keep this kitten hidden from everyone in the manor.

It honestly shouldn’t have been possible. Not in a house with Bruce Wayne.

Your father had built a career out of noticing things no one else did. The World’s Greatest Detective, capable of finding patterns in chaos, deducing secrets from the tiniest details, catching liars with a single glance. There was no way this should have worked.

And yet, you had made it seven days.

A good part of that was due to the kitten itself. She was surprisingly low-maintenance for something so small and needy, sleeping most of the day while you and Damian were out, only getting active when one of you was around. Between the two of you, you made sure there was always someone in the manor at all times, switching shifts like it was some sort of top-secret mission.

And if you thought too hard about that—how ridiculous it was, how much effort you were putting into this—you might start laughing. So you didn’t.

Still, it wasn’t perfect.

You had almost been caught more times than you cared to count.

The closest call?

It had been late, far past patrol, and you’d been in Damian’s room feeding the kitten. You weren’t expecting anyone to come looking for you—not when your father had been knee-deep in a case, locked in his own world, barely acknowledging anyone outside of mission briefings.

But then, suddenly, you heard his voice.

Calling your name.

You had exchanged one panicked look with Damian before immediately bolting into action. You shoved the kitten into her makeshift hiding spot—inside Damian’s closet, curled comfortably inside a box lined with one of his old hoodies, wiped away the tiny bits of fur clinging to your shirt, and sat on the bed, trying to act as casual as possible.

Damian, still crouched beside the closet, had no time to react beyond freezing completely in place.

Then Bruce opened the door.

He took one glance at you—legs crossed, arms folded—and then looked at Damian, who was stiff as a statue on the floor, looking vaguely like he’d been caught committing a crime.

Bruce frowned. “…What are you two doing?”

You didn’t even blink. “Talking.”

“On the floor?”

Damian, without missing a beat, answered, “Yes.”

It had been a long night. Bruce had been running on fumes. He had stared at both of you for a long, agonizing moment before letting out a quiet exhale.

“Get some sleep,” he said simply, then left.

And just like that, you two somehow got away. Again.

It had taken all of your self-control not to start laughing hysterically the second the door clicked shut. Damian had just scowled, muttering something about how absurd the situation was, but the way his shoulders had relaxed said everything.

Bruce had no idea.

You had won.

But Bruce wasn’t the only problem.

Alfred was just as dangerous—if not worse.

If your father’s detective skills were legendary, Alfred’s were terrifying. He had this way of knowing things. Sometimes before you even did them. He was like some omniscient force that no one could escape.

And yet, for some reason, he hadn’t found out about this.

…At least, that’s what you thought.

Because there had been moments. Little ones.

Like the time you caught Alfred looking at the extra cat fur on Damian’s hoodie. He didn’t say anything—just ran a lint roller over it before handing it back without a word—but you knew. He had noted that. Especially when he hadn’t seen Damian interact with Alfred—the cat, that day.

Or the time when he had asked if you’d been eating in Damian’s room, because he had noticed “traces of food” in there. You had almost choked on your own spit at that one.

Or, the worst moment, when Damian had almost slipped up.

You’d been in the kitchen late at night, grabbing a snack before heading back to Damian’s room. Alfred had been there, doing something by the stove, when Damian had come in and automatically reached for the fridge.

And you knew what he was doing.

You had watched, frozen in horror, as he pulled out the small carton of milk—one that was not for human consumption, but rather stolen from Alfred’s personal stash of pet food supplies—and nearly poured some into a tiny bowl.

For a cat.

You knew Alfred had already fed the only other cat in the household.

So when you saw Alfred turning, just slightly, as if noticing something, you had never moved faster in your life.

Before he could say anything, you had shot to your feet, grabbed the bowl, and downed the milk. In one go.

Alfred and Damian had just stared at you.

You had coughed violently, wiped your mouth, and said, “Calcium.”

Alfred hadn’t even questioned it.

But you swore you saw the tiniest glint in his eyes, like he knew.

That really unsettled you.

But now—now you were back in Damian’s room, sitting on the floor as the kitten munched on her food, still somehow undiscovered.

You sat cross-legged, propping your chin up in your hand as you eyed the kitten lazily. “I still don’t know how we pulled this off.”

Damian, who was currently sitting on his bed with one leg propped up, scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I never had any doubt.

You shot him a look. “We were almost caught, like, five times.”

“That was due to your carelessness.”

“Oh, really? Was I the one who had to cover for you when Alfred almost walked in while you were literally petting her?”

Damian huffed. “Alfred does not simply ‘walk in.’ I accounted for that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Right. That’s why you nearly dropped her when the door opened.”

“Tt.” Damian turned his attention to the kitten instead, watching as she licked her tiny paws. He said nothing, but the way his fingers twitched against his knee betrayed his irritation.

Your gaze flickered to the bowl. Actual cat food.

You frowned.

“Where did you get that?”

Damian didn’t even look up. “Alfred’s stash.”

Your eyes snapped to him. “You stole from Alfred?”

“Borrowed.”

“Oh my God.” You dragged a hand down your face. “Damian, he probably keeps track of that.”

Damian scoffed, unconcerned. “I ensured that I only took minuscule amounts each time to avoid suspicion.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t notice.”

Damian finally looked at you, unimpressed. “You severely underestimate my ability to remain discreet.”

“That’s what you said about the milk.”

“That was your failure, not mine.”

“I saved your ass.”

“You embarrassed yourself in the process.”

“I survived in the process.”

Damian let out an exasperated sigh, looking to the kitten instead of dignifying that with a response.

You huffed. “Have you named it yet?”

A pause.

“No.”

You raised a brow. “Wow. You’re really creative.”

Damian shot you a look. “Would you prefer I call her something ridiculous?”

“I don’t know. I was expecting something dramatic, at least.”

Another scoff. “I am not you.”

“I mean, you named a literal dragon-bat thing in, like, two seconds. But a kitten is where you draw the line?”

Damian scowled. “Naming something is a responsibility. I do not take it lightly.”

“Oh my God.” You snorted. “It’s a cat, Damian.”

“Your point?”

The kitten meowed loudly, stopping you both in your tracks.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Okay. Whatever.”

A beat.

“…Should we tell the others?”

Damian barely blinked. “Who?”

You rolled your eyes. “Y’know, Tim, Cass, Dick, Jason—”

“No.”

You blinked. That was immediate. “Why not?”

“Drake would let it slip the second he became sleep-deprived, Cassandra would tell Father immediately, Grayson lives in Bludhaven, and Todd—” Damian’s expression darkened. “Todd is irrelevant.”

You blinked. ��Rude.”

“He would use this against us.”

Okay, fair.

You exhaled, letting yourself fall back onto the bed. “…So, either way, I was going to be the one you’d ask for help, wasn’t I?”

Damian huffed. “No. If I had it my way, you wouldn’t even be here.”

You gasped dramatically. “The audacity! If you had hidden this cutie from me, I wouldn’t have forgiven you.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “How tragic.” But there was the faintest pink on his cheeks.

Because of course.

Of course it was you.

Who else would he trust with something this important?

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbows, watching as Damian busied himself with the kitten again. His fingers idly scratched behind her ears, his scowl softening just the tiniest bit when she let out a contented purr.

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “I know for a fact you would’ve asked me for help first, even if I didn’t catch you.”

Damian scoffed. “Your arrogance is astounding.”

“Am I wrong?”

“You are always wrong.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Damian exhaled sharply through his nose, turning his attention fully on the kitten as if he could physically ignore your presence. You watched him for a moment, scrutinizing the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers stilled ever so slightly before he resumed petting the kitten, and then—there it was.

A flicker of hesitation.

And then, begrudgingly, he muttered, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You blinked.

Not the sarcastic retort you had been expecting. Not a denial, not an insult. Just that.

Simple. Direct. Honest.

Your heart did something strange in your chest, something warm and stupid, and you had to fight the grin threatening to take over your face.

“…Wow,” you said, blinking exaggeratedly. “Damian Wayne, admitting he trusts me. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Damian shot you a glare. “I take it back.”

Too late. You were already ruffling his hair, grinning like an idiot.

“Hey—” He immediately tried to swat your hand away, scowling.

You just laughed, dodging his weak attempt to shove you away. “Aw, you do care.”

“I will kill you.”

“Sure, sure. Say whatever makes you feel better.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I tolerate you at best.”

You grinned, flopping back down onto the bed. “That’s basically love in your words.”

Damian rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might actually get stuck, but the corner of his mouth twitched. A small, reluctant thing, barely there, but noticeable if you were paying close enough attention.

Which, of course, you were.

Unfortunately, neither of you noticed the door, which had been slightly ajar for the entirety of that conversation.

And you definitely didn’t notice the way it closed softly.

Because Alfred had been standing there the whole time.

He had known from day one.

Of course he had.

It had taken one look at Damian’s hoodie, one glance at the way you had both started lingering around the manor more than usual, one single second of analysis, and he had known.

But he had let it be.

Because—perhaps foolishly—he had enjoyed watching the two of you fumble your way through this ridiculous charade, watching the way you and Damian bonded over it.

Now, though, he was simply waiting.

Because he knew—without a doubt—that the two of you would out yourselves in approximately three days.

And that’s when he would finally step in, cross his arms, give you both a very long lecture about the dangers of bringing strays into the household without prior approval.

For now, though…

He merely sighed, shaking his head as he walked away.

Time to inform Master Bruce that the household had yet another animal resident.

lol this was so overdue but here it is!! hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality | ask to be added <3

#batsis #batfamily #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #batsisreader #damian wayne x sister reader #damian wayne #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne x reader #alfred pennyworth #x reader #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #rizzanon

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psycholuvrgirl · 2 days ago

Text

duplicity! [teaser]

rafe cameron x sweetheart!pogue!oc [baby porter]

summary: baby porter, the pogue princess, asks rafe cameron out on a date after losing a bet. to her surprise, rafe says yes.

warnings: nsfw (very brief smut)!

a/n: this is just a teaser for this series. this series will follow the plot of obx, so a lot of it is going to seem very familiar, just with a twist because baby will be in it

wc: 2.1k

it was meant to be just one simple task: ask rafe cameron on a date. baby lost a bet with jj and the punishment was simple, but the problem is baby porter is, unlike most pogues, terribly shy.

“guys i don’t think i can do it,” she says, glancing across the boneyard where rafe was standing. he has an arm wrapped around his sister, sarah, laughing with kelce and topper about god knows what.

“you lost, baby, you gotta do it. deal’s a deal,” jj says.

“deal’s a deal,” she breathes out. “okay. i can do this.”

“you can do this,” kie assures.

baby stands from the log she was sat in, crossing the sandy expanse until she was right in the lion’s den of kooks. also unlike most pogues, baby got along with most of the kooks—she wasn’t like other pogues, which meant she wasn’t treated like one. so her presence didn’t seem to unnerve anyone in the group.

“sup, baby,” topper says, throwing back a swig of his beer.

“hi baby,” sarah says with a warm smile, “what’s up?”

“uh, well, actually…” baby straightens her back, clearing her throat and doing the best to sound as confident as she can. “i’m here to talk to rafe.”

“me?” rafe asks, pointing the lip of his bottle to his own chest.

“mhm,” baby says with a nod.

the kooks ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at this, making rafe mutter threats at them as he follows baby away. she shoots the pogues a glance—a final plea to be done with this, but they all just give her encouraging thumbs-ups. so she continues to lead rafe to a more secluded area.

“am i in trouble with the pogue princess?” he teases.

“don’t call me that,” baby says through a whisper.

baby isn’t sure when she earned the nickname “pogue princess” but she didn’t like it, not one bit. it made her feel weird, but for some reason the nickname coming from rafe’s lips didn’t seem to bother her as much as it normally would. but she quietly scolds him all the same.

they both take a seat on a large branch that washed ashore, rafe’s whole body turned towards baby as he awaits whatever it is she dragged him out here for. baby clears her throat, uncrossing her legs just to cross them back over.

“so, rafe…” she says.

he lets out a laugh. “so, baby…” he takes a sip of his beer. “what d’ya need?”

if baby has learned one thing from her pogue friends, it’d be to just “let it rip” in any circumstance that could remotely use that advice. so that’s what she does.

“will you go on a date with me?” she asks, words tumbling out faster than even she can comprehend.

“what?” he asks with another laugh, “i have no idea what you just said, b.”

she clears her throat again, sitting up straighter. “i said…” she looks down at her nails, picking at the pink polish coating them. “will you go on a date with me?”

she braces herself for rafe’s reaction. she expects laughter, for him to holler in her face and say the big “no” as if she just asked him for a million dollars.

“sure.”

her eyes bug out of her head, head snapping up to look at him. “what did you just say?”

“sure,” he repeats.

“y— you wanna go on a date? with me?” she asks. a small smile raises to his lips, the smile turning into a quiet chuckle. he nods, and baby’s eyes only widen further. “seriously?”

“yeah, i mean, you’re cute,” he says, “why not?”

her skin burns at the compliment. “you think i’m cute?”

“why do you sound so surprised? you know you’re cute,” he says.

“no i don’t,” she says.

“well…” rafe scoots closer to her, his cologne invading her senses. “i can assure you…” he kisses her left cheek. “that you, baby…” then her right. “are very cute.” his lips meet hers, just for a moment. the kiss is over almost as soon as it began and baby porter is still left a blubbering mess after it. her mouth opens to speak, then closes, then reopens. no words come out though, making rafe laugh just a little more. “how about tomorrow night? i’ll pick you up at around seven?”

she nods wordlessly and he chuckles.

“i’ll see you then,” he says, standing from the branch. he holds out a hand to her and she takes it, letting him pull her up effortlessly.

“see ya,” she breathes out.

he leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek before walking away. she stands there stunned for far too long, and when she finally snaps back to reality she scurries back to her friends.

“how’d it go?” john b asks.

“should we start planning the wedding?” jj asks.

“he… he said yes,” baby says.

kiara’s head nearly snaps off from how quickly she turns, pope drops his beer on the sand, john b’s jaw falls slack, and jj spits out the beer in his mouth.

“he what?” pope asks.

“you’re going on a date with rafe cameron?” jj asks. before baby can answer, he howls with laughter. “oh my god, that is priceless!”

but, for some odd reason, baby porter didn’t find this funny—not even a little bit, not even at all.

“what are you even worried about?” jj asks, “it’s rafe fucking cameron. you don’t need to impress the guy, you just need to get this over with.”

a honk from outside pulls baby’s attention away from her friends. “that’s him.”

“we’ll walk you out,” pope says. baby turns to pope with a scrunched face. “what? it’s for safety reasons.”

baby sighs, reluctantly standing and allowing her four friends to follow her out of the chateau. rafe is on his phone, standing next to his car, and looks up at the sound of the front door shutting. he looks over baby’s outfit—a sundress over a bikini, just in case. his eyebrows raise as he looks her over, then his face falls as he notices the pogues behind her.

“have her home by eight,” jj says.

“jay, it’s only seven,” baby says, shooting jj a glare.

“fine. eight thirty,” he says.

“ignore him,” baby says with a small, nervous giggle. rafe laughs with her, but it’s evidently forced for her comfort.

“just, don’t do anything stupid,” kiara says, ever the blunt one in the group. “bring her back in one piece, okay?”

“okay,” rafe says, in hopes that they’d go away. and his wish is granted because they all reluctantly head back inside, tossing looks over their shoulders at baby. she doesn’t seem to notice though. no, not when her focus is on the tall man in front of her.

“hi,” she says.

he smiles. “hi.” he makes his way to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips that makes her heart flutter.

and the rest of the night goes the same. he brings her onto the druthers for a picnic under the stars, bringing them to the middle of the ocean so they have privacy, the stars and a few candles being the only light they have on the deck of the boat.

“have you ever gone night swimming?” baby asks.

“hasn’t everyone?” rafe asks. both of them are laying next to each other, most of the food packed away by now. they stare up at the stars as the silence of the night engulfs them, only breaking the silence every so often.

“probably,” baby says with a laugh, “i guess that was a silly question.”

“did you want to?” he asks, turning his head to look at her. “did you want to go night swimming?”

she turns to him with a bright smile, nodding rapidly. rafe gets up from his spot, helping baby up. he strips off his shirt as she gets rid of her dress. rafe runs and dives off the end of the boat and baby follows him, diving into the cold ocean. they both resurface, letting out joyous laughs when they see each other.

despite everything she’s been told about rafe cameron, baby actually finds herself having the best night of her life with him. her heart sinks a little at the thought of everyone’s judgements making it take this long for her to ever get to know the beautiful boy in front of her.

“why are you frowning?” rafe asks.

“oh, am i? i didn’t mean to,” she says. baby swims closer to him and he grabs her, letting her wrap herself around him.

“are you not enjoying the date?” he asks.

“no, i am!” she exclaims, her heart quickening at the thought of him believing this is anything other than perfect. “i’m loving tonight, honest!”

“then what’s wrong?” he asks, tucking a soaked strand of hair behind her ear.

“it’s just… you’re so different than what i expected,” she says, “i wish i had asked you sooner.”

rafe doesn’t bother with words. he was never good with words anyways. instead he presses his lips to hers, their lips moving passionately with one another. heads twisting as baby holds onto rafe just that much tighter. like he might slip away if she doesn’t, like the moment might fade to nothing if she lets him go.

the brush of something against her leg has baby scrambling to climb rafe, ruining their perfect kiss as she yelps.

“what was that! something touched my foot!” she exclaims. rafe breaks into a fit of laughter, but she’s still trying to climb him as if he’s a tree. “it’s not funny, rafe!”

she quickly swims over to the side of the boat, hauling herself up and shivering on the ledge. he follows her up and guides her inside. the air is warmer down below and rafe wraps a towel around baby’s shoulders.

“there you go,” he whispers.

“thank you,” she says with a shy smile.

rafe responds by reconnecting their lips, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other lands on her waist. her arms wrap around his neck, letting her hands move through his hair. when his tongue slips against hers, caressing it sensually, she lets out a whimper that goes straight to rafe’s dick.

he gently nudges her down onto the couch. he hovers above her without detaching their lips. he pulls at the tie of her bikini top, slipping the fabric away. he pulls back and looks down at her with hearts in his eyes.

“wow,” he whispers. baby crosses her arm over her chest, but he gently pries it away to continue admiring her. then, he dives in. his lips wrap around one nipple, his hand massaging the other. he switches after some time, leaving baby to mewl at the sensations he’s causing.

“kiss me again,” she says, trying to pull him up. he obliges, climbing back up to bring their lips back to their prior rhythmic dance together. his hand slips down her body, falling beneath her bikini bottom and massaging her wet slit. she lets out a quiet whimper as he gathers the wetness on his fingers, then a loud moan when he brings his fingers to her clit.

“you like that?” he asks. she nods her head and he dips back down to kiss her, swallowing every moan that falls from her pretty lips.

he slowly pushes one finger inside of her, then another. leaving her a mess underneath him. she grinds up towards him, chasing her own release.

“rafe, please,” she pleads as he slips his fingers in and out of her.

“please what, baby?” he pants. she’s past using words at this point, too lost in her own pleasure to make her mouth form anything coherent. so she takes matters into her own hands, literally. she drops her hand down to cup him, massaging him through his board shorts. she slips her hand inside, wrapping her tiny hand around his length. they both grind into one another’s hands, chasing their highs. when they both get their release they lay there, content with one another’s company.

interrupted by the ringing of baby’s phone, they both reluctantly go back to the deck to retrieve the device.

“did he kidnap you? what’s taking so long?” kiara asks.

baby rolls her eyes, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” john b shrieks.

“goodbye guys.”

since that night, rafe and baby have been inseparable. in secret, that is. both went home to report to their friends that the date was just a bust, both knowing that if their friends knew about their successful date that they’d never hear the end of it. so that’s how the relationship went. sneaking out late at night, long weekends spent alone together, calls until the early morning. it worked for them — secret, intimate, and just perfect.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader smut #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction

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jejelovescats · 3 days ago

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My analysis on Spy X Family chapter 111

well uhm today's chapter was something initially I though the chapter was too short to write about, but we did get valuable information, and writing isn't only about the present, it's also about the past and future so I've been thinking about this for a few hours and here's what I've found. First point I'd like to make was way back in chapter 1, we got a very brief introduction about Anya, it was stated that she was an unintentional consequence of research experiments and that she had later escaped the facility.

Now since the chapter was quite short, many statements I make can be far-fetched. Alright now, when they said, "unintentional consequence of research experiments" they could've simply meant that the woman (who Anya refers to as "mama") could have just gotten pregnant and called that "unintentional consequence" and when stated "research experiments" they could have simply meant her mother. Now I said "the woman who Anya refers to as "mama"," because she could still be a woman who Anya has grown fond of and called 'mama', this is quite unlikely and I believe that she is her biological mother, still just a thought Now we ask ourselves, in chapter 111, was that a lab? my answer: yes, I do quite think so why? if you look closely, on the back of both Anya and her (probably) biological mother, there are strings holding the dress from behind like a lot of hospital clothing..

And one panel that really stood out to me was this one. Some people theorized previously that if Anya were to have a biological parent, they'd be the reason of her being held captive in the lab. This has been debunked after today's chapter. It seems that Anya's biological mother wanted freedom just as much Anya did, she's a victim in this too. Another point I'd like to make is that Anya's mother probably helped free Anya (as stated in chapter one, all it said was that she escaped, doesn't mean no one helped her) since she knew she couldn't escape herself. The symbolism is symbolizing 🙂‍↕️

Now this is where we ask ourselves, where is Anya's mom? my answer: Probably dead. Why else would she have cried on the interview day? She appeared to be very close to her mother in today's chapter and it would explain her tears. She could also just be trapped in the lab, but I find the first explanation more logical, even though they're both a possibility, that's just my opinion.

Something else, are Anya's powers inherited? probably, they could have messed up with the mother's DNA and passed it on to Anya, and they experimented further on Anya to further develop her powers Last thing, the hair. we saw in chapter 1 that Anya had her hair in buns, as well as today with her mother, and present Anya always has those cone shaped hairpieces on her hair, we've never seen her without them. why? no idea I've gathered a bunch of theories that are plausible 1) they have some type/form of horns hidden underneath their buns 2) scars now the scars would make sense for 2 reasons 1) Donovan, who's probably a mind reader (though we can't verify Melinda as an accurate source) has scars on his head as well, now even though the placement isn't the same, they're still scars. 2) They want to convince their selves they're normal people

hear me out. A woman and her daughter are both trapped in a lab, being experimented on, they have scars, won't hiding them give them some sense of normalcy?

And also, the fact that Anya asked Yor if she could read her mind, the poor kid is looking for anything that might remind her of her mother, in the chapter, her face wasn't shown, just like Loid's flashback. I also noticed while Anya was dreaming that she held bond quite tightly, I think that's because she was trying to hold out to her mother.

well, I did NOT expect to write this much given the length of the chapter😂 can you tell that this was VERY rushed? Since loid did mention that she was sleeping before her bedtime, that probably means that when Anya sleeps again, she'll dream of her mother once again. well, that's me rambling! hope you enjoyed! please feel free to share your thoughts or any more thoughts you might have! okay but isn't baby Anya just adorable? SEE Y'ALL IN 2 WEEKS<333

#spy x family #forger family #spy x family spoilers #spy x family manga #spy x family chapter 111

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seungfl0wer · 2 days ago

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*𝐼𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒*

Pairing: Vampire!Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Idk what to put it as but changbin breaks in but there’s consent for the deed so. Choking, hand pinning, mentions of blood, unprotected sex, Creampie, oral(f), slight manhandling. This got some plot to it to wow- as always sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

This was requested from my second prompt list with the prompt 3: “Look at you”. Side note I wanted to have this out earlier but I ended up getting sick :( so sorry for the late posting it!

-🖤

It was late, you were in your bed fast asleep. The window open to let the nice summer breeze in. You could hear faint sounds of crickets chirping which only put you into a deeper sleep. Your slumber was cut short however, a big hand gripping at your throat as another pushed down your other arm.

Your eyes show open staring up at the silhouette of the man above you. He pushed your head to the side giving clear way to your neck. You tried pushing him off of you his strong legs held you in place as he grabbed your other hand. Holding them both above your head now. “Get the hell off of me!” You yelled still struggling underneath him.

“Struggling so much and for what? We both know you can’t break free.” He said with a chuckle. “Just let me have my taste of you sweetheart” he spoke again his voice coming out like honey. In the midst of everything you took notice of his long fangs he had. You knew vampires were real but you had never encountered one. At least that you knew of. “I saw you at the library, from all my years on this planet I’ve never smelled anyone like you” he said almost groaning.

“You’re- you’re a vampire?” You asked sheepishly.

“That I am sweetheart. Now just relax hm? It’ll only hurt for a second. I promise to be gentle.” He said his head now nuzzling at your neck. He took a long whiff of your skin before sinking his teeth into you. You body arched at the sharp pain only to be met with a warm feeling circulating your body. He was telling the truth, it only hurt for a split second.

He lapped at your neck making you let out an embarrassing loud moan. He chuckled against your skin before his hand ran down your body. “Look at that, no panties? You must have been expecting me hmm” he said with another chuckle. Your eyes fluttered open and close at the feeling of his touch, at his words. His fingers ghostly brushed against your folds making him groan loudly. He pulled away from your neck moving himself quickly down your body. “Fuck- look at you- you’re soaked” he said with a wild smirk.

“Shut up” you said moving yourself upwards to get away from him. He quickly grabbed your legs pulling you right back down to him “uh uh no running sweetheart, let me take care of you hm?” He said diving quickly to your core giving you no time to protest. He lapped at your folds like he did to your neck this time though it was messier. His pretty nose rubbed against your clit as he ate you out tongue darting into you. Your head fell back, fuck you’ve never had anyone eat you out like this. Like it was the only way they could live, like they needed it like they needed air. Or in his case I guess- blood.

He pushed his fingers into you pumping slowly at first finding the right speed to drive you crazy. “How does every part of you just taste so- sweet? It’s addicting.” He mumbled against your skin. Your cunt clenched around his fingers you were so close already. He curled his fingers at just the right spot as he started to suck at your clit. “Let go sweetheart, cum for me” he said eyes keeping contact with yours.

He let a small nibble to your clit making your body arch, shaking as you came hard around his fingers. Just like your neck he cleaner you up making sure to not leave any of your sweet nectar behind. “You think you can give me one more? Cum on my cock like that hm? Can you do that for me sweetheart?” He asked in that same sweet honey voice.

“And- and if I say no” you breathed out.

“Then I’ll leave, but we both know you want this just as much as I do. I’ll be gentle I promise.” He said again. You took a moment to think, were you really gonna let this guy have what he wanted? You could see from the moonlight how handsome he truly was. Soft red eyes, the sharp jaw line and oh god that body. He wasn’t the stereotypical scrawny vampire no he was buff. Those big arms would be perfect little pillows.

“Well sweetheart?” He said snapping you back to reality. “What’s your decision?”

“Fine, only on one condition” you said trying to look sternly at him.

“And what may that be?” He asked scooting closer to you.

“I think I deserve- deserve cuddles after this” you said the request making him smile. Fuck- was his smile so sweet looking.

“Of course, you’ve been so good for me I wouldn’t dream of leaving you just yet” he said moving closer to kiss you but you pulled back.

“One more thing” you said.

“That would be two conditions then” he teased. “But go on”

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Oh, how could I forget my manners I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m changbin. Seo Changbin” he said.

Your eyes went wide, the little you did know about vampires you knew that last name. They were a huge coven with many high class vampires. “Wait- seo?” You asked.

“I’ll take all your questions after sweetheart, but for now I’m going to give this sweet little cunt what she’s craving” he said running his fingers up your folds.

He got his body positioned on top of you leaning down to finally kiss you. You could hear as he did his pants hitting the floor somewhere. He moved his cock up and down your folds collecting the slick enough to glide right in. When he pushed inside of you, you were shocked. His cock was fat, the thickness stretching you out so nicely. If it wasn’t for his work earlier it probably would have hurt. When he was nestled nicely inside you he peered down at you. His eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

“You- you can move” you said softly. And with that he did. He started off slow and deep. His cock taking in your warm walls as it moved.

“Fuck- everything about you is just so perfect” he groaned. His movements picked up but not before he hooked your legs. Pushing them to your chest as he made himself go as deep as possible. You could feel his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he pounded into you.

“Feel- good?” He asked breathily.

“S’good- feels so good” you moaned out. Your hands reached up to him, grabbing his strong muscular arms. His eyes looked so soft like he didn’t wanna hurt you. Like you were this precious little thing to him. He took your hand into his interlocking your fingers as he let your legs fall back to the side. He moved his body down towards you kissing you passionately.

He kissed down your jaw line and almost instinctively you moved your head, revealing your neck to him. This made something in his brain short circuit. His pupils dilated becoming a bit redder a low almost growl escaped his lips. Before you knew it, he was pounding into you faster, harder and somehow deeper. His fangs found your neck once again biting at the sensitive skin.

Everything mixed together had you seeing stars, moans and cries spilled from your lips as you felt you high fast approaching. “Cum. Cum for me sweetheart- fucking cum for me” he said in that same almost growl tone. Your body arched with one final thrust you both were cumming hard. Your body shook almost violently, with such a strong orgasm.

He moved himself back to your face kissing you lovingly before pushing some hair away.

He stared at you with so much love in his eyes it made you blush. “I broke one of my number one rules” he said with a light chuckle.

“Which was?” You asked.

“I never kiss anyone during sex, almost makes it feel to loving. But. I couldn’t help it. For you I’d give all my love” he said that honey voice returning. “I’ve watched you for a while, there was just something about you that I kept getting drawn to.” He added.

He kissed your nose softly before cradling you in his arms as if it was something he’s always done. He ran a warm bath before placing you into it. “I’m sorry for being so rough at the end, it’s just you- you bared your neck to me. That’s something that we vampires see as a sign of love and trust” he admitted.

“You’re from the seo coven right?” You asked, the question that you had wanted to from earlier.

“That I am, I’m actually one of the highest heirs. A vampire born from vampires. A pure blood if you will.” He said.

“So what you’re telling me is, a royal wanted me?” You said with a smile.

“Oh sweetheart, anyone would want you. You’re perfect in so many ways” he said stroking your hair. “Now let’s get you cleaned up shall we? I think one of your conditions was cuddling hmm?” He said kissing your forehead.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @sheerfreesia007

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dandylovesturtles · 2 days ago

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oh yeah so Yes pretty overwhelmingly won the poll so you guys only have yourselves to blame for seeing this nonsense I will probably not do much more with lol

anyway I've been mentally calling it the Draxum's Kids AU or Step-brothers AU because I didn't come up with anything creative

high level premise is that, due to ~mystic shenanigans~, Draxum from the OU (post-movie) gets pulled through a portal to another dimension, about a year behind the OU dimension, where he kept the turtles and accomplished a lot of his human eradication goals but was also a terrible father. Draxum sees the writing on the wall that his AU self's foolish actions have led to an impending apocalypse and finds the AU's Mikey (who is only called Boxshell) to help him get back to the original dimension. But as soon as he meets back up with Boxshell his Dad Instincts kick in and he realizes he can't just leave "his" kids here to die, so he decides to kidnap all four of them back to the original dimension.

this is complicated a bit by all of them hating each other

under the cut is about 3000 words of Draxum getting abducted

Draxum would really appreciate it if they could make it six months without a potentially world ending threat.

This one seems particularly suspicious. Giant black swirling vortexes giving off massive mystic energy signatures don’t simply appear, not for no reason. The fact that Michelangelo had been the first to notice it, cocking his head to the side like a bloodhound hearing a rabbit, was not putting him at ease, either.

“Soooo,” says Leonardo, swords already drawn and held loose at his sides, “what is it, Draxy?”

That is not his name, but because the situation is serious, he answers anyway. “You expect me to know? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Come on, you’re our mystic guru! So get with the guruing!”

Draxum just gives him the look that the kids are coming to call his “not mad, just disappointed” face. He doesn’t have any more answers than he did two seconds ago. On the plus side, it doesn’t seem like anything is coming out of the dark swirly vortex, nor is anything getting sucked in. It’s just hanging there, in the sky over the Hidden City, menacingly.

“Doesn’t it feel familiar?” asks Michelangelo. Unlike Leonardo, he still hasn’t drawn any weapon. He’s just watching it, curious.

“I don’t remember the Krang portal looking like that,” says Donatello. “We could see the Prison Dimension on the other side. That’s just… an indistinct vortex of doom.”

“Not like the Krang,” says Michelangelo, but he doesn’t offer any further guesses. He just watches it with big eyes.

“But we gotta do somethin’ about it, right?” asks Raphael. “We can’t just leave it up there.”

“Well, if it’s not hurting anyone,” says Leonardo slowly.

“Just because it is not doing anything in this instant does not mean it will stay that way,” says Draxum.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonardo slices through the air, a blue and less chaotic looking portal opening up. “Let’s check it out, Dee. Get some energy readings and all that nerd jazz. The rest of you, stay here in case it’s dangerous.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if it’s me,” says Donatello, but he steps up to the portal anyway.

Draxum feels uneasy, because he doesn’t know what that thing is or what it will do, and because he doesn’t want the two of them going alone. “I’ll come with you,” he says, and when the kids give him a look, he quickly adds, “I may notice something that Donatello would miss.”

“I don’t miss things,” Donatello snaps back, but that’s factually untrue, so Draxum just grunts in response to it.

“Sure, goatman cometh,” says Leonardo airily. “Let’s just go!”

Just to be sure nothing bad will happen, Draxum steps through first. The twins follow him.

They’re on a rooftop now, just under the vortex. Draxum had been expecting… something, but there are no threats, no signs of anything amiss. It’s a bit windy, and the vortex is making an ominous buzzing noise, but that’s all.

“Can you tell anything from here?” asks Leonardo, looking between the two of them. Donatello has his goggles down and a holoscreen up, incomprehensible numbers scrolling by at a fast pace. For his part, it seems the same to Draxum here as it did across town.

Donatello’s readings slow, and he raises the goggles again.

“It’s… definitely massive, but I can’t tell much more than that. Though… I think Mikey was right. That it feels familiar.” He looks at his brother, something complicated in his expression. “Like we’ve seen something like this before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” says Leonardo, before turning his attention to Draxum. “How easy is it to make an interdimensional portal, anyway?”

Draxum snorts at this question. “For a pocket dimension, relatively simple. For an actual, separate world… Theoretically, it could be done, but it would take a massive amount of mystic energy and decades of experience. Especially if one does not have a mystical object to channel a portal through, like the key that was used for the Krang’s prison dimension.”

“But Mikey was able to do it,” Leonardo points out.

“Yes. And need I remind you it almost killed him.”

“You needn’t,” he snaps back. “I’m just saying… if it can be done, it really seems like someone’s trying it right now.” He still has his swords out, watching the vortex warily. “And what’re the odds that they’re coming here for a friendly visit?”

Draxum doesn’t argue there; he’s already treating whatever this is as hostile. Better to assume wrong and apologize later than to let down his guard and let one of his kids get hurt.

There’s the sound of footsteps behind them, and the three of them turn at once, startled. “Well, there’s Mikey,” Leonardo is already saying in a resigned sort of way, like he knew Michelangelo would join them before he gave the command.

“Sorry, Leo,” says Raphael, landing with heavier tread on the rooftop just behind Michelangelo. “He gave me the slip.”

“Guys, it’s fine!” Michelangelo argues, in that tone he uses when he feels like he’s being babied. “I’m telling you, whatever’s making that portal isn’t here to hurt us.”

“And you know this based on what evidence?” asks Donatello.

“It’s a feeling!”

“Ah yes, feelings, how quantifiable.”

“Well you don’t have any evidence it’s evil either, Donald!” Michelangelo retorts.

Draxum is about to step into the middle of this quarrel when Leonardo stops it for him.

“Guess we’re about to find out who’s right,” he says, eyes locked on something above them, and Draxum looks up just in time to see that there’s movement coming from the vortex now. “Dee, take Raph; Miguel, you’re with me.”

“Wait, guys, we should just-” Michelangelo tries again, but a shimmering blue portal under his feet stops him. Leonardo and Michelangelo reappear in the sky above, Leonardo using his portals to stay airborne while Michelangelo catches himself with his mystic powers. There’s the roar of a jet, and then Donnie is after them, his shimmering mystic tech carrying himself with Raphael dangling underneath.

And of course they’ve left him on the roof. Draxum sighs. Children.

He pops several vines on the roof and uses them to propel himself skyward, eyes searching for what has come through the portal, if that’s what it is. It’s difficult to see against the black coloration, but the boys seem to have gathered under a figure in a dark cloak, who emerges slowly from the middle of the vortex. It seems to cling to them like dark, black ink, the mystic energy drawing out behind them in long, gooey ropes.

Draxum knows he is still many meters away, but even still, he doesn’t think the figure is very large. It’s a surprise, given that the vortex itself is at least fifteen or more meters across, but the figure coming out is short and slight, not even as big as Michelangelo. Of course, that doesn’t mean much; plenty of yokai are small statured naturally, as are some humans. Even Lou Jitsu is small, now, but still mighty. He can’t let the size of the person put him off guard, especially when they have summoned such massive mystic energy.

“Hey!” cries out Michelangelo. “Can we talk to you!?”

The figure in the cloak seems to startle at being addressed. For a moment, they hang in the air, the ropey energy of the vortex growing thicker on their arms and legs. Almost like it’s trying to pull them back.

The figure seems to realize this, too, because they jerk forward and raise their arms in a panicked arc.

Fire comes out - dark flames with incandescent blue cores that Draxum knows are hotter than any normal flame. If the boys are struck, the damage will be severe. Thankfully, Michelangelo yelps and whirls aside before he can be burned.

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking!” calls Donatello.

“That’s alright,” yells Raphael, his ninpo lighting his body red, “because I’m interested in smashing!”

The midair fight begins in earnest now, the boys darting around the figure with their weapons drawn, even Michelangelo. The cloaked figure fights back with the flames, dark and so hot that as Draxum’s vines carry him closer, he can feel the heat coming off of them. Yet, despite the intensity of the attacks, Draxum notices that they are unwieldy and unpracticed, like the wielder has no real experience in fighting, and certainly not midair against so many opponents. Add to that, the strange, inklike properties of the still-spinning vortex seem to be actively trying to pull the figure back; each time they make progress, the moment their attention is drawn by one of the boys, they’re yanked back another few feet.

Draxum sprouts a few more vines off his main one, so that he can move more freely. Aerial combat has never been his forte, but he can make it work. So long as none of those desperate fire attacks burn through his vines and send him tumbling to the ground (he can only hope, in that event, that one of the twins notices him).

The cloaked figure is still attacking wildly, and the boys have to move fast to keep out of the way. It’s easier for Michelangelo and Donatello, who can stay airborne indefinitely; Leonardo, meanwhile, has to use his portals to catch himself and Raphael periodically, portalling them back to the sky or giving them a portal to ground to launch off of. This leaves them open to attack.

Draxum couldn’t have made it in time if he’d wanted to, but in the moment he isn’t thinking he has to.

One of the unfocused black flames strikes Raphael; his ninpo projection protects him from being harmed, but he still lets out a gasp of surprise as it burns rapidly through the ninpo itself, leaving him exposed. Donatello swoops in to catch him before he can fall, and all the boys hang back for a moment, stunned by this development.

“What was that!?” Leonardo calls out, portaling above Donatello and landing on his constructed battleshell (Donatello says, “Oof!” loudly, but doesn’t throw him off). “It just burned through Raph’s shield like it was tissue paper!”

“Augh… that felt… weird.” Raphael is rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “Raph did not like that.”

“Alright, clearly this guy is dangerous.” Leonardo is tense, eyes focused as he watches the cloaked figure yank free of the stringy ropes of magic from the vortex, coming closer. “But see how the portal’s trying to pull them back in? We just gotta get them close enough and send ‘em back where they came from.”

He glances over at Michelangelo. Draxum looks, too. The boy’s brow is creased, like he isn’t happy with this outcome, but his eyes are focused on Raphael.

“...Yeah,” he says finally, and gives his nunchucks a swing. They light up with his orange ninpo, the bright fire a stark contrast to their enemy’s dark flames. “Let’s send ‘em back!”

The boys spring back into action, and Draxum follows suit, his vines carrying him up, closer to the vortex. Now he can feel more of the thing’s power directly, a great gusting wind that pulls rather than pushes. He hangs back from the direct fighting and instead watches the boys closely, should he need to intervene the way he hadn’t for Raphael. If the fire can eat through their ninpo, then any of them being struck would be disastrous - especially if one of the others could not catch them in time.

The kids are succeeding in their gambit to push the figure back towards the vortex, but that means they are also increasingly putting themselves in range of its dangerous reach. The ropey strands of dark mystic energy reach out like hungry tendrils, latching onto scales before being cut or shaken off. Leonardo has all but abandoned the fight against the figure and instead puts his efforts into slicing the strands apart any time they touch one of his brothers, either directly with his katana or with a well placed portal. He leaves the strands that attach themselves to the mysterious person, and they wrap more firmly around the legs, arms, and neck of the one in the cloak.

And that’s when they finally speak.

“No!” they cry out, in a voice unmistakably juvenile. “No, please! I just want to escape - don’t make me go back!”

Michelangelo stops short, bobbing uncertainly only a few meters from the screaming figure (a boy, Draxum thinks, but cannot be sure). “Guys,” he says hesitantly, lowering his weapons. “I really think we should-”

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by a burst of flames from the cloaked boy’s hands, spiraling directly towards him.

“MIKEY!” shout several voices at once; Draxum only realizes a beat later that one of them is his. He’s the closest, and he moves fast, putting himself and a wall of vines between the flames and his son.

The flames make such short work of the vines, it’s almost comical. Draxum watches as the fire races down the towering stalk he’s made, eating them away and leaving nothing behind, not even ashes. The vine Draxum was standing on is, of course, completely obliterated, and he feels the swoop in his stomach as gravity starts its relentless pull.

“Dad!” he hears Michelangelo call out. The boy reaches a hand toward them, and in his panic Draxum reaches back. They are only a few meters from each other, and then less and then less, fingers almost touching-

But it is something else that grabs him first.

The vortex’s dark energy feels disgusting and slimy where it touches Draxum’s fur, like a leech pulled from some noxious bog. Its tug is ferociously strong, and he realizes that if Leonardo had not been quick, if the magic had wrapped around any of his brothers’ limbs the way it’s wrapped around Draxum’s arm, disentangling them would have taken massive effort. As it’s going to take to free him now.

There’s a yank, and he’s ripped away from Michelangelo and towards the vortex.

“No!” screeches the cloaked boy, and sputtering flames spill out around him, forcing the turtles back before they can move in to rescue him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Gladly!” Draxum shouts back, ripping and yanking to try and free his arm. “Just close this foolish portal and go back where you came from!”

“I can’t!” the boy screams, and he sounds so wretched, Draxum almost feels some sympathy for him. “I can’t! I can’t!”

“You must!” Draxum argues, because he can tell. The energy has wrapped too securely around the cloaked boy now; there will be no freeing him. The portal he made is impressive, especially as young as he sounds, but it is not complete. He could not be severed from it, even if they tried to help. In fact, if they fully pulled him from the vortex, it would likely kill the child.

No; he must go back. But… is there still time for Draxum?

“Barry!” he hears the boys call out. They try to get close, but another burst of searing heat from the panicked boy in the vortex keeps them from advancing. More of the stringy ropes of magic are wrapping around Draxum now, on his arms, his torso, his legs. His neck. They yank him back, hard, and he gasps as the air leaves his lungs. The mystic energy slithers over him like a living creature, wrapping him up more and more securely in its snare.

It seems… there is not.

“NO!” screams the cloaked boy, one last panicked, desperate cry, but then his voice is abruptly silenced. There’s a roaring noise, incomprehensibly loud, and Draxum faintly wonders if this is how it sounds when a star collapses in on itself.

The last thing he sees as the portal closes around him is Michelangelo’s face, eyes wide and afraid, mouth open in a shout, hand outstretched as far as it can go.

And then all is dark.

…

When Draxum wakes, he’s laying on the ground in an alley in the Hidden City.

He feels a flash of something markedly unpleasant when he realizes he’s alone: sadness, betrayal, perhaps even, Titan forbid, loneliness. It seems the boys have left him to his fate and gone home.

Then he remembers the portal, and Donatello and Michelangelo’s guess that it was interdimensional. It’s likely the boys don’t know where he is. It’s possible he’s not even in the same time.

Or the same world at all.

Disturbing as that thought is, the part of the Hidden City he can see from his vantage point seems familiar enough. He recognizes this as a part of the old downtown, not far from where he and the kids had been fighting the cloaked boy. Even if this isn’t his time, at least he should still be able to navigate - that makes things easier.

He gets to his feet, shaking the soreness out of his limbs. He hears something pop, and is suddenly immensely glad the boys aren’t here after all. He’d rather not endure another round of teasing for being “old”.

The Hidden City he travels through seems largely the same as the one he left, to a degree that he starts to wonder if it wasn’t an interdimensional portal after all. If it was, the dimension he’s in now seems to have only slight variations.

Or that’s what he thinks, until he makes it to the nearest portal back to New York City.

There’s a checkpoint set up in front of it, one that didn’t exist here before. There are guards standing sentinel, ushering through a line of yokai and occasionally asking questions. They don’t seem hostile to the yokai, but it does seem like precautions need to be taken for… some reason.

More startling to Draxum are the crests that adorn banners hung around the checkpoint, matching emblems blazed on the uniforms of the officers.

His family’s crest.

It seems this dimension is quite different after all.

#dandy fanfiction #step-brothers au

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