#four can keep a secret

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Four Can Keep A Secret

Secret trio plus Red Robin fic where Danny is captured by the GIW and Jake Long, Randy Cunningham, and Tim Drake end up rescuing him together. AO3

Chapter One

Due to a case, Tim had been patrolling the area by the docks more recently. It was within his territory, so it didn’t take long for him to notice something strange going on. The past few days, any time Tim patrolled the area, his comms glitched. The air was cooler here, and it felt like there was some sort of static in the air that put him on edge. It was almost like the weather reflected the bad vibe Tim was having about the location, and based on past experience, he figured nothing good would come of it.

After doing some research on the surrounding buildings, Tim was able to narrow it down to one of the bigger warehouses. It had access to Gotham Bay, and from the blueprints he scrounged up it looked like a sizable basement as well. It was clear that they needed a big space and access to water, so whatever they were carrying to and fro wouldn’t be noticed by boat. Both were bad signs, so Tim had to get a closer look. From there, it didn’t take long to do research and plan for a reconnaissance mission.

The purchase of the warehouse went through shell company after shell company, and any transactions were firmly shielded and rerouted enough that even Tim couldn’t bypass it. Which led to tonight, where Tim was scaling the surrounding fence to get in to see what was going on. He approached the side entrance, one he’d mapped out through the blueprints earlier, but stopped in his tracks when he heard voices. 

“Dude! That’s not stealthy!”

“We don’t need to be stealthy, we need to get into the-”

“And breaking down the door is gonna alert the guards!”

“But we’ll be inside!” 

“Inside and in danger!”A tall guy in a ninja uniform exclaimed, probably louder than he meant. Both arms were gestured wide as he towered over a smaller figure in red. 

At first glance, Tim thought it might be the League of Assassins, but the type of outfit paired with the red accents made him think otherwise. Not to mention an assassin would be much more subtle, not arguing loudly with a teenager in front of a warehouse they wanted to break into. It was unlikely that the league had sent what seemed like a kid Tim’s age on a mission as well.

On the other hand, the kid arguing with the ninja was short, dressed in regular civilian clothes with spiky black hair with dyed green tips. He wore dark blue shorts and a red jacket, crossing his arms with a scowl as he squared up to the taller ninja. As much as he was curious about how a civilian got involved, Tim was under the impression the two teenagers were about to start brawling if he didn’t do something. To keep them from getting caught, Tim dropped down from the AC unit he was perched on to land closest to the door. 

The two nearly let out a shriek before covering each other’s mouths. “What the juice dude!” The ninja scream-whispered, throwing his hands in the air again.

“Holy shit, you’re one of the bats,”The civilian teen said, albeit a bit more nervous. He scowled at Tim a second later.“What are you doing here?”

“Breaking in,”Tim said, hoping for nonchalant while connecting his wrist computer to the security panel on the doorframe. It was already open, most likely from the other two, so he only had to plug in his code to get it working. “I’ve been monitoring this place. Do you know what’s going on in there?”

“Not really.”

“Yes,”The guy in red said at the same time the ninja shrugged. 

“Great, care to fill me in? We’re on a time limit and I’d like to get in and out as fast as possible,” Tim asked, looking at the guy in red pointedly. 

“A government agency took the Ghost King captive,”He explained reluctantly. “I was sent to return him to his dimension before a war broke out between this realm and theirs.”

Tim paused, turning to him in surprise. It sort of explained why the guy was dressed covertly, but he didn’t seem to have any weapons on him, just a small satchel looped around his chest. It was perplexing to think about how this guy had connections to the ghost king. 

“Oh. That makes more sense,”The ninja perked up. Tim was surprised at that, because while magic might be involved, surely someone on the JL would have noticed a missing King.“I was told to rescue someone inside, something, something, he’s guarded by guys in white, by a magic book.”

Of course it was magic, Tim groaned internally. He’d have to reach out to Zatanna or Constantine about this. For now, he’d keep an eye on the two teens with him. If they had any ulterior motives with the rescuee, Tim would be able to stop them and get the King to safety. Before Tim could ask another question, the Ninja asked,”Which bat are you?”

“Which ninja are you?” Tim countered, unlocking the door. He slipped into the hall silently, glad that the ninja seemed to excel at stealth when he barely heard any footsteps following him. He was less impressed with the guy in red’s attempt. 

“I’m previously known as the Norrisville Ninja, now just the Ninja,”He introduced himself with a whisper. “I go on magical quests given to me by a cursed book.”

“Awesome,”Tim grimaced. He couldn’t help it when magic was involved, especially now that the Ninja was in Gotham. He hadn’t heard anything about Norrisville or Ninjas. If he remembered correctly, Norrisville was around Arizona. It was a long way from Gotham. Tim hoped the guy would be able to get out of Gotham before B caught wind of him. “You can call me Red Robin.”

“Yum,”The two of them chimed, and Tim wanted to smack something. Preferably the two idiots behind him.

“Just call me Jake. I’m an ambassador for magical creatures in America,”Jake added quietly. Tim turned to give him a look, but he didn’t elaborate. He could almost feel the need to unravel Jake’s secrets vibrating in his chest, waiting to burst and ask a million personal and invasive questions. But he refrained, like a normal person. “Someone’s coming on the left. Two people.”

Trusting the supposed magical ambassador, Tim pulled the three of them into a supply closet. Judging by the rescue mission and tense look in the two, Tim figured they were telling the truth. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he’d stumbled upon though, given that he’d never heard of Jake, the Ninja, or the Ghost king before. 

Tim turned away from the door to find Jake and the Ninja whispering furiously with each other. “You’ve met before?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow. The two stepped apart.

“Unfortunately,”Jake grumbled. “We’ve met before, once or twice.”

“Cut the cheese, man, I saved your butt a bunch of times and you know it,”The Ninja said. Tim could tell he was grinning through the mask. 

“If you don’t shut up about it, I’m going to roast you like a marshmallow,”Jake retorted, his last words verging on a growl. Tim looked over at Jake subtly, wondering if that was a normal habit or if the guy was a meta. The two quieted down when Tim put up a hand, everyone now serious, and a few seconds later he opened the door to find the guards gone.  

Red Robin didn’t have to say anything to get them moving, and instead followed the blueprint in his head to the basement level. “Woah,”The ninja breathed when they reached the lower level. Everything was white with eerie glowing neon green lights that reflected off the three of them. 

“This is so creepy,”Jake muttered, glancing around. He was a bit paranoid that he’d be the one trapped in something like this one day. With how his old highschool teacher always tried to capture him, it was a very real concern, and he dreaded to think of what might’ve happened if his teacher was even a bit more competent. The eerie white walls and secret scary basement had been a fear of his growing up, especially during those times when he was being hunted. Clutching the strap of the satchel around his chest, he followed the two boys in front of him with a little more urgency. He couldn’t imagine what horrible things the Ghost King was going through here.

 While Jake couldn’t wait to get out of there, he wasn’t leaving until he found the Ghost King. His grandpa and the council of Dragons had been alerted to the danger when the ghosts started going crazy. Apparently, the Ghost King had a reputation for maintaining the balance between the ghost realm and the human realm, and not only was he good at keeping the peace, he was held in high regard by almost every ghost out there. Speaking of ghosts, they were coming in from the realms at a higher, more alarming level than ever before, searching the earth for their stolen king. A few made their way to the dragons with the news of war and Jake was tasked with finding the King to prevent it. Jake shuddered at the thought of a whole dimension of ghosts attacking the living. He wasn’t even sure what side the Dragon council would pick in that fight, but hopefully they wouldn’t need to choose sides. 

After Jake was sent on the mission, armed with a satchel of ghostly ectoplasm- said to heal ghosts from any physical ailment- he made his way to Gotham. Spud helped him track the King to the warehouse, but whatever software they were using at the place couldn’t be cracked remotely. He’d been told about the GIW, a government agency hell bet on eradicating the ghost population, and was upset that none of the magical community had learned about them before. It certainly made his job as the American Dragon more difficult, but at least he was here now.

Jake glanced over to Red Robin, who seemed to know where they were going. The guy led them confidently down the spooky hallway with no hesitation, so Jake followed easily. While he was nervous about being on a Bat’s radar, he was glad Red Robin was there to get them in quickly. From what he knew about the Ninja, he didn’t have any technical skills either. Red Robin was still a better choice than the Bat himself, but Jake was hopeful he wouldn’t have to reveal his powers to the guy. If he did, Jake figured it would be a little more difficult than usual to get him to keep quiet about the existence of the Magical community. 

The Ninja definitely knew he was the American Dragon, but Jake was beyond grateful that the guy hadn’t revealed Jake’s secret to the Bat. He’d only met the Ninja twice before, both when he was on some odd quest from whatever cursed book he was attached to. The first time he’d saved Jake from being revealed to a crowd of paparazzi after a battle with a well-timed smoke bomb. The lanky teen had disappeared so fast Jake thought he was hallucinating until he saw him again during a mission with unicorns. Some overeager college kids had come across a group of them outside and the Ninja had helped him round up some of the unicorns that ran closer to populated areas in the scuffle. Jake was pretty sure the guy knew about the Magical community, but since he seemed to be on their side, he didn’t see the point in alerting the council to the Ninja. He was a good ally to have, even if Jake wasn’t sure of his motives.

Jake shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. Looking around, he saw containment cells, a vat of glowing green liquid, and various tools that gave Jake more than a bad feeling. The sooner they could get out of here the better, he thought with a shiver. The place gave him the creeps, and he was sure that it would be haunting his nightmares for the rest of his life. 

“How do you know where you’re going?” The Ninja piped up, looking over Red Robin’s shoulder. It seemed like a genuine question, but Red Robin shifted the screen away anyway. 

“I have the building schematics, and I downloaded their files,”Red Robin reported, taking a left turn out of the area with containment units and down the hall to the scary lab. “According to this, they have one current captive, labeled PH-01. Nothing in the containment cells we passed so I’m betting the guys here have him in a lab.”

“This is so rank,”Ninja grimaced, looking around. He seemed to talk when he was nervous, Jake observed,”How come this place is so empty? I thought we’d have way more guys to fight by now.”

“I set up a distraction at the other end of the building,”Red Robin grinned briefly before covering it up with a blank smile. He pointed, coming up to a bigger locked door at the end of the hall. Green light seemed to shine through the cracks at the bottom of the door. “It should give us enough time to get whoever’s inside and get out.”

“He’s the Ghost King,”Jake reminded with a frown,”Probably glowing. He can float, turn invisible, that sort of thing. If they caught him he’s going to be restrained in some way.”

“Magic book told me he has white hair and green eyes,”The Ninja added helpfully. 

Red Robin filed the information away as his wrist computer got the door unlocked. It slid open with a hiss, and bright, white lights turned on overhead, making the two without a domino mask wince. Whatever the trio was expecting, this was worse. 

In the room was a bunch oh medical equipment paired with what looked like torture devices. In the middle of the room lay a metal exam table with a small figure strapped down. Tim was surprised to find that the ghost king was around his age, smaller than he’d expected. It made the situation worse in a way, knowing that the people here were experimenting on a kid. Experimenting was sadly the best word Tim could find to describe it, given that the boy had heavy duty restraints on his wrists and neck. No restraints on his legs, but he figured it was because one of the legs looked bent at an unnatural angle. The beginnings of incisions adorned the King’s bare chest, and what looked like needle marks in his arms as well as the IV attached led Tim to believe that the guy was being sedated. 

They stood frozen at the entrance for a few seconds before bursting into motion. The Ninja, surprisingly, went to try to get the cuffs off while Jake went to patch up the unconscious figure with Tim. “I don’t think I can use anything to heal him until the restraints come off,”Jake said, pulling out bandages out of his bag. He didn’t know how ectoplasm would mix with the ghost-proof restraints, so since there was nothing he could do magically, Jake started making a makeshift splint to hold the crooked leg together. 

“Nothing I have can break these,”The Ninja said, frustrated. He went to the other end of the room, snooping for weapons or keys to unlock them before standing watch instead. 

Meanwhile, Tim tried to get the collar off. He figured out quickly that breaking it with the laser on his utility belt wouldn’t work, and set to hacking it instead. Almost immediately, he knew this was going to take longer than they had, and shut his wrist computer with a snap. “I need more time to get the restraints off. We need to move, now,”Red Robin said, moving to help Jake finish patching the kid up. He detached the IV and other restraints keeping him to table, while the smaller teen finished wrapping his leg. 

“There’s a bunch of people coming, any ideas on how to get out of here?” The Ninja said hurriedly, rushing over to help the two get the unconscious boy up off the table. Since the Ninja was the tallest out of the three of them and closest to the Ghost King’s height, they carefully situated the ghost onto the Ninja’s back. Red Robin took up the lead, taking the four of them out a back entrance away from where the guards were coming from. 

“This leads up to the roof,”Red Robin directed, a little surprised at the Ninja’s ability to carry the boy up three flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. “From there we can take him to the Batcave or-”

“No, he’s staying with us,”Jake growled deeper than before, and shouldered past Red Robin. “None of us want the Bats involved in this more than they already are.”

“I’m not saying you have to,”Tim placated, not letting any of his frustration bleed through his voice. “It’s just an option if he needs more medical attention than we can give him.”

“I have a safe house close by,”The Ninja offered, and Red Robin wasn’t surprised when Jake readily agreed. Tim agreed though, given that the Ninja seemed to be the closest thing they had to neutral. Alarms blared behind them as Tim kicked open the rooftop door.

The four of them got onto the roof, Jake closing the door behind them. He broke off the door handle in a surprising show of strength that Tim did not have time to process. “Here, I can take him and grapple-” Red Robin started before getting cut off. 

“I got him,”Jake growled again, and Tim was about to argue when the Ninja just handed the Ghost boy off. Sighing quietly, he resigned himself to just follow along as Jake held the boy easily in his arms despite his small stature. Jake turned to Tim,”Don’t freak out,”He said, accepting it with a bit of suspicion when Red Robin nodded.

Then, to the surprise of the vigilante, Jake transformed into a giant red dragon. “Get on,”Jake grumbled, securing the ghost king in his arms as gently as possible. The Ninja whooped, climbing onto Jake’s back gently despite his excitement and gestured for Tim to follow. Red Robin refrained from spouting all the questions he had and followed. He’d definitely seen weirder, and there was no time for introductions again with the guys in white banging on the door behind them. 

“Hang on!”The dragon called with a sharp grin before he stretched his wings out and leapt off the roof.  Snuggled securely in his arms was the unconscious Ghost King, while the Ninja and Red Robin were holding on for dear life on Jake’s back. They tried to be mindful of the guy, but it was hard not to grip too tight when they were flying so high. “Got directions for me?”He called, and Tim was surprised they could hear him over the wind. 

The rest of the ride went by quickly, with the Ninja giving directions to a small apartment not far from Gotham University. Meanwhile, Tim was trying to take in every detail of the two boys in front of him. Riding a dragon was something he’d never done before, and he had to restrain himself from running his hands over Jake’s ruby scales. He wondered if they were like armor. Was there heat resistance? Tim found his mind racing with the wind around him.

The Ninja on the other hand, was surprisingly muscular despite his lithe, tall figure. Since Tim was seated behind him, he had no choice but to hold on to the boy in front of him if he wanted to stay on the dragon. Despite knowing that the Ninja had multiple weapons on him, he couldn’t spot a single one. Did the Ninja have magical powers too? Tim had a lot of questions, but he knew now was not the time. The most important thing right now was getting those restraints off the Ghost King and preventing a war. 

The two riding the dragon didn’t waste any time getting off once they landed on a rooftop. The unconscious King was passed to the Ninja again and Jake transformed back to human. Tim supposed it made more sense that Jake was an ambassador of magical creatures now that he knew he was a dragon. Or part dragon, Tim wondered. This was not his expertise, so he followed the two with the most experience into the apartment, keeping his eyes peeled for anything suspicious while fiddling with the codes on his wrist computer. 

“Mi Casa es su Casa,”The Ninja grunted, tossing some keys to Jake while keeping a steady hold on the boy on his back, who caught them and easily opened the door. 

“I thought this was a safe house,”Tim said absently as they walked in, still typing. The more time he had to crack the code the better, just as long as he was in the same vicinity as the ghost he could keep working. 

“Well, it’s safe, and it’s where I live, so,”The Ninja added, unable to shrug with his arms full, and brought the boy over to a table near the kitchen. “Can you clear off the books?” He asked, and Jake scrambled to clear the table, helping the Ninja set the Ghost king down gently. The unconscious boy’s head lolled to the side and his white hair drifted over his face. Randy paused, helping him into a more comfortable position before brushing the hair out of the way. His face remained relaxed, not stirring in the slightest at the movement. Randy grimaced when he caught sight of the blood smeared on his neck under the collar, and he hoped they could help him.

“Do you have any medical supplies? Towels?”Jake asked, getting back to work on fixing up the guy passed out on his table. Randy went and got them, pointing Jake to the kitchen to grab some warm water. He rushed to the bathroom, reaching under the sink to pull out his first aid kit and snatching a few towels off the counter. He was glad to have washed them the other night. 

Making his way to the kitchen, he saw Red Robin in a chair next to the Ghost, typing away on the tiny computer on his wrist. He only paused a few times to lean over and look at the collar or fiddle with it, but Randy figured he’d get it off soon with that determined look. Bringing the supplies, Randy spent the next two hours cleaning and dressing the boy’s wounds with Jake. He paused briefly to get Red Robin a bigger laptop to work from, but stayed by Jake’s side to help secure the ghost’s broken leg..

Halfway through, he pulled off his mask, letting the rest of his suit retreat and revealing his unruly purple hair. Red Robin hadn’t even noticed, still typing away, only now he was using Randy’s laptop that he’d gotten for school. It helped to have room to type with both hands, he’d said when he thanked him. 

Jake on the other hand was speechless for a moment, staring with wide eyes before grinning. “Want me to keep calling you Ninja?” He snarked, and Randy rolled his eyes. 

“It’s Randy, actually, but you can call me anytime,”Randy winked, and Jake threw an unused rag at him. Randy dodged, snickering, but got back to work. 

Once the Ghost was bandaged and no longer bloody, they got him in some of Randy’s pajamas and moved him to Randy’s bed. It just so happened that the pajamas were blue and had little polar bears on them. Despite the bandages and makeshift cast, the kid looked more peaceful laying on the comfy blankets. “I’ll keep an eye on him,”Jake said, rolling Randy’s spinny gaming chair to sit next to the bed. He still had the satchel on him when he plopped down on the chair, and held it tighter when he got restless or nervous. Randy assumed he was carrying something important for their guest in there, so he left it alone. No doubt it was something magical and very hard to obtain, and Randy was well known for clumsiness outside of the mask. He was going to avoid messing with it.

“I’ll make some food then,”Randy hummed, but before he left he rummaged through his drawers to find some extra pajamas for Jake and himself as well. He tossed them over to the shorter teen and left the room before Jake could yell at him for it. 

After getting changed in the bathroom, Randy meandered his way past Red Robin, who still had his head in the computer, and into the kitchen. He figured the guy could use something to keep him awake. Opening the fridge, he found a grape flavored Zesti energy drink and brought it to Red Robin. The guy almost flinched at Randy’s presence, but zeroed in on the energy drink and relaxed. “Thanks,”Red sighed, reaching for the drink. He paused, finally noticing the absence of a ninja suit. Randy wanted to laugh at how wide the eyes of his mask went but took pity on him. It was late, and they needed Red Robin to get the collar off. 

“Call me Randy,”He grinned, then turned to the kitchen. “I’m making food if you want anything or have allergies. Let me know if you want another energy drink, I have a bunch.”

“Yeah,”Red Robin rasped, then cleared his throat and reaching for the drink. He got back to work a few seconds later, keeping the can between his arms as he typed. Tim wished he had a straw to drink while he worked, if only to keep him distracted from the cute boy in the kitchen.

Back in the kitchen, Randy was busy making breakfast sandwiches, because that was one of the only things he knew how to make and had enough of those ingredients. He wasn’t quite sure what the others wanted on their sandwich but he’d make it pretty plain in case they had weird tastes. Glancing back at Red Robin hunched over at the kitchen table, he didn’t feel as nervous as he thought he should be at the bat. Randy didn’t mind sharing his identity with the two, and to be honest, either one could figure out his name just by knowing where he lived.

 He had known Jake didn’t trust the Bats, so Randy suggested his own place. It helped that he wasn’t far away, considering he was going to Gotham University for a Media X major. His apartment was neutral ground when it came to magical creatures and the vigilantes, and he was sure the nomicon predicted things working out this way. It definitely wasn’t because he was lonely, no. Randy only just moved to Gotham, away from his friends and family. He was doing fine making friends in college. Sharing his apartment with other heroic teens was just convenient. It was just a normal, college apartment, and he hoped the ghost at least would be more at ease with the surroundings when he woke up. 

Soon enough, Randy plated the sandwiches individually, adding a bit of avocado, tomato, some onion, sriracha, mayo, ketchup, and bbq sauce to his own. He paused, then found the bag of chips on top of the fridge to add to the side of each plate. Going back to the fridge, he pulled out another energy drink and took one plate to Red Robin. 

The guy didn’t even notice Randy dropping off his food, but he seemed to be concentrating so Randy let him be. He left, taking the empty can with him. The purple haired teen hoped the plain egg, sausage and cheese muffin was fine. It was one of the only things he could cook after working at McCluckbusters for one too many summers. 

Grabbing the other two plates, he made his way to the room with the sleeping ghost. “Your dinner awaits, milady,”Randy bowed dramatically, holding out the plate to Jake.

The dragon boy snorted, but dug in gratefully. It was almost 6am already, and Randy was sure all three of them had been up the whole night. He himself was used to late nights gaming, but Jake looked tired. Randy took a bite of his own sandwich, putting some of the barbeque flavored chips inside it to add a crunch, but paused when he saw Jake staring at him. 

“Yo, what did you do to that sandwich, man?” Jake asked, setting down his own sandwich and looking at it like it suddenly had a bug in it. 

“It’s delicious,”Randy said with his mouth full. “Why, do you want some? I left yours kinda plain in case you didn’t like other stuff.”

“Okay, I do like the avocado but it looks like you have ten different sauces on there,”Jake judged. “You couldn’t just pick one?”

“It adds to the flavor,”Randy defended,”And it’s only like, four. I was out of ranch.”

“Oh my god,”Jake sighed, exasperated, “Next time I’m cooking,”He added,”I’ll show you real food.”

“Hey, I learned these secrets the hard way,”Randy said, adding more chips. 

“What, from a fast food place?” Jake asked, mentally planning what dishes he could make with ingredients that a midwestern college white boy would have in his fridge.

“Yeah, exactly,”Randy grinned, and Jake just rolled his eyes.”So if you want breakfast sandwiches or cake fries, I’m your guy.”

“Cake fries?” Jake repeated, looking at Randy in disbelief.

“Just wait til you try it,”Randy pointed out. Jake just rolled his eyes, but Randy could see a small smile on his face.

 They ate in silence after that, talking about random things and watching the sleeping boy between them. Randy took Jake’s plate when they were done, walking out to put them in the sink and check on Red Robin. 

To Randy’s exasperation, the guy had drunk the energy drink, but left the food with a few bites next to him. It seemed obvious that Red Robin had barely taken a break from trying to crack the ghostly restraints, and Randy didn’t know if it would be more or less helpful to remind him of the food. He decided to leave it for now, and took the empty can. He was worried that Red Robin was pushing himself too hard trying to crack the code, but for now he’d help out however he could without bothering his work flow. 

Randy admits, he is a bit restless with no emergency going on, and two strangers in his house. He ended up doing the dishes, giving Red Robin another energy drink, and started on cleaning around the house when he noticed Jake starting to fall asleep in his chair. Cracking his knuckles, he approached with the subtlety of a younger sibling.

“Come on, get up,”Randy shooed, much to Jake’s confusion and annoyance. “Don’t give me that look, you’re practically falling asleep.”

“I’m fine,”Jake growled, but let Randy herd him out of the room.

“Go take a nap on the couch, I’ll keep watch on him and wake you if anything happens,”Randy assured, leaving Jake to settle on the couch without tripping on the too long pajama pants to go grab a spare blanket. He draped it over Jake, grinning in satisfaction when he seemed to drift off in seconds. 

Randy glanced over at Red Robin, who had eaten a bit more but was still hunched over the laptop, and figured the guy was still doing okay. A thought came to him though and he grabbed some more pajamas and a glass of water to set next to Red Robin. Randy was never so grateful of his mom’s Christmas Pajama Tradition. He got a new pair every year and since he’d stopped growing he never needed to throw them away unless they got super old or beat up. 

Randy made his way over to the ghost king and took over Jake’s chair. Plopping down, he grabbed a blanket on the floor to wrap around his cold feet and leaned back to watch the sleeping boy in front of him. All the blood and cuts were cleaned and bandaged, so the little King would have looked almost peaceful if not for the bright green collar around his neck. Throughout the escape and getting settled in the apartment, Randy hadn’t actually gotten a good look at the guy before now. His skin was pale, with almost a hint of blue in it, and his short hair was almost ethereally white. Leaning closer he could see his eyelashes were white too. 

Sitting back, Randy huffed. He definitely had to skip school tomorrow. Considering he and the others had been up all night now, Randy hoped he’d be able to stay awake. Spotting his switch on his nightstand, he leaned over to grab it. Starting it up, he figured he’d play some Animal Farm to try and stay awake. It was a kind of mindless game so he wouldn’t miss anything if the Ghost King moved at all. 

Meanwhile, Tim was nearly done. He had hacked into the files he downloaded to try to find the key to unlocking it, but it turned out that the GIW had gotten the invention from some scientist named Fenton. It was even harder to find blueprints for the collar, but from what he could tell it was running on some sort of alternate power source. The glowing green energy didn’t seem to run out, and reminded Tim a bit of kryptonite. 

Given that it ran independently, the restraints were stuck on the ghost until someone deactivated it with a similar device. It was like the thing was half magic half technology, and Tim was only good with one of those things. What Tim was trying to do was unlock the restraints without the key, and to do that he needed to try and mimic the power source on his own end. To do that, he was trying to get the devices to register each other as a key, but it was slow going. Tim hadn’t done something like this before, but he knew he could do it with enough time. Time he wasn’t sure the ghost king had. 

Then the vigilante frowned. He looked up from the computer, wondering why Jake and Randy were being so quiet, only to find Jake sleeping on the couch. Tim blinked, but figured Randy was keeping watch on the Ghost King, while Jake slept. Looking at the clock on the laptop, he could see why. They’d been up all night, and it was nearly 9 in the morning now. With all the energy drinks he’d had, Tim wasn’t even tired. He couldn’t be tired if he wanted to get the restraints off the boy in Randy’s bed.

Tim sighed, reaching for the can on the table but instead brushed fabric. Surprised, he turned to see a pair of space pajamas with a soft Nasa t-shirt. Next to it was a glass of water and Tim frowned. While he was getting a bit uncomfortable staying in his suit for so long, he wasn’t completely at ease around the boys. Reluctantly, he took a sip of the water, hoping that they didn’t run out of Zesti. 

Glancing back at the screen, he figured now was a good time to take a break. No one else was around, so he quickly and quietly stripped out of his armor and into the soft pajamas, but kept his utility belt, boots, and mask on just in case. Folding his suit and placing it on the chair next to him, he took the time to stretch out his muscles, relishing the way his back cracked. 

Sitting back down, he was glad for the clothing change into something more comfortable. The pants were a bit long and the shirt too big, but they were soft and smelled like some sort of flowery laundry detergent. It was nice. He took another sip of water and started typing, hoping to figure out how to get the power source in the restraints to mimic the type of key needed to trick the system. 

Jake jolted awake with the imprint of the sterile, white lab and eerie green lighting on his eyes. He swallowed down the flames in his throat and rubbed his eyes. When he was no longer afraid to set something on fire, he yawned, stretching. He looked around, seeing Red Robin now sporting space pajamas a few sizes too big, and he could just make out Randy playing a game on his switch in the chair through the doorway of the other room. 

Yawning again, he set the blanket aside and got up. Jake scowled when he almost tripped over the pant legs of his borrowed pants. Despite the tripping hazard, he made his way to the kitchen to look through Randy’s cabinets. Looking at his phone he saw it was nearly 11am and figured the others would appreciate some food. He was surprised to find rice in one of Randy’s cabinets, and figured he could make some fried rice with some of the vegetables in the freezer. Nevermind that the rice looked untouched for months, but it would be easy to make a large amount of food for everyone. 

Jake was pretty sure that ghosts didn’t need to eat, but he figured the guy might appreciate being saved a plate just in case. He placed the satchel with the ectoplasm inside on the counter, and got started cooking. It was calming his nerves to focus on cooking rather than the vigilante at the table and the unconscious Ghost King in the other room. Randy seemed chill, but Jake was paranoid that one wrong move and Red Robin might contact some other heroes to take over.  Looking at the guy now, knowing he’d been hunched over the laptop covered in various stickers for hours and not calling anyone because Jake asked him not to, he felt like the guy deserved some trust. And rice. 

Almost an hour later, Red Robin stood up, ignoring the now cooled bowl of rice at his side. “I got it,”Red exclaimed, making his way to the Ghost King. Jake and Randy perked up from their chairs, sitting around the bed. 

“You got it?” Randy asked with a grin. He stood up, switching to hover around the boy on the bed. 

“Just let me get this ready first,”Jake muttered, pulling out the vial of ectoplasm. Tim nodded, making his way over to the collar. He only needed to activate his program with a push of a button. Once Jake was ready, he nodded to Tim. 

Red Robin took a breath and pressed the button, hoping it would work. Abruptly, the Collar’s bright green light cut out, and after a moment it seemed to pull apart, dropping into two halves on the side of the boys neck. The three watching gave a sigh of relief, but tensed back up when the white haired boy started to stir. 

A weak groan filled the room, and the ghost’s face twisted in pain. Jake was all but ready to use the ectoplasm when suddenly a bright light filled the room. Looking away, the three covered their eyes as it seemed to get brighter and encompass the boy on the bed. 

Red Robin was the first to look back when the light faded, and held in a gasp when he saw a very human boy in place of the ghost. “He turned human?” Randy exclaimed, looking from the other boys in the room and back to the ghost king turned teenager. 

Jake, still holding the ectoplasm, was gaping. “Will this still help him?” Jake asked no one in particular. He had no idea if the human part would reject the ectoplasm. 

“I’ll get the medical supplies,”Tim threw out when he noticed the kid’s appearance. The others, just now looking at he tattered clothes and fresh injuries, blinked in confusion and panic. 

“How does he have different injuries now?” Randy complained. Even the pajamas were gone, replaced with tattered jeans and a t-shirt that used to be white. 

While the ghost version of the boy had a broken leg, this kid’s arm was dislocated, horribly bruised, and possibly broken. Further inspection led to a few nasty burns that looked like something like a blaster hit him, and based on the new rattling sound when he breathed, they were pretty sure some ribs were broken. 

Another thing they learned was that the ghost king might also be… a ghost queen. In their human form, at least. Red Robin took point on getting the… teenager dressed while Jake and Randy averted their eyes in embarrassment. Tim’s cheeks had turned red, but he was at least used to clothing mishaps and more unsavory situations while being a hero. This hardly phased him, but they were all confused about how the Ghost King thing worked when one was a human girl at the same time. They all more or less agreed not to comment on it and stuck with the Ghost King’s he/him pronouns. At least until the teen was able to explain. 

Jake however, was still trying to decide if it would be a good idea to give the teen the ectoplasm or not. He’d received limited information about ghosts and that to do with the ectoplasm, but he had no idea if it would help or hurt the human part. He sat in the chair with a huff when they finished patching up the kid and got him in another set of pajamas. This time they had little dogs on them.

“I can find out for you,”Randy said, looking at the ectoplasm meaningfully. He waved an old looking book in his hand for emphasis. Jake however, did not know what Randy meant by that. 

“How-?”Red Robin asked, but cut himself off. He clearly didn’t know what he was allowed to ask about or not, and it was very amusing for Jake. 

“Sure, go for it,”Jake said, thinking Randy was just going to read the book. He was unprepared, however, for Randy to open it and immediately collapse. 

“What the-” Jake exclaimed, rushing to catch Randy before he hit the floor. Red Robin joined him and they carefully lifted the purple haired teenager onto the bed so he laid next to the other unconscious teen. “Geez,”Jake breathed. 

“Did you know he was gonna do that?” Red Robin asked absently, and Jake shook his head. 

“I knew his book was magic but- man he coulda warned us that would happen,”Jake scoffed. Red Robin let out a small laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed. They were a little overwhelmed, but it was a relief to be able to have someone else to talk to about it. 

Seconds later, Randy woke up with a gasp, startling everyone but the unconscious kid. “Jesus, man, you coulda warned us!”Jake exclaimed, but Randy largely ignored him in favor of pointing to the ectoplasm vial that Jake was still holding. 

“S’good! All good, give him the stuff,”Randy got out, climbing out of the bed and pacing the room. Jake hesitated, but started getting to work while he watched Randy pace. “So- the nomicon was pretty vague about why he’s human in the first place but basically the green stuff helps both forms. Basically.” 

“Basically,”Tim repeated, while Jake gently coaxed some of the ectoplasm down the kid’s throat. He hoped it worked. 

They hovered around the bed for a moment, then watched in awe and surprise when most of the injuries started to heal. It didn’t heal the bigger injuries as much, but most of the bruising and smaller wounds disappeared, leaving little scars. 

Bright blue eyes suddenly opened, and the teenager lurched forward with a cough, huddling in on himself. Unsure what to do, Jake and Randy stepped back to allow Red Robin to come forwards and reassure the kid. “Hey, it’s okay, its alright,”He said softly, but nothing he did seemed to calm the kid down. 

The human ghost king tried to crawl away from them, moving until his back hit the headboard of the bed. He was obviously still in pain, and his eyes were darting around frantically but not seeming to recognize anything. Tim bit back a retort when he was shoved backwards as Jake moved to be right in the kid’s line of sight. 

To Tim’s surprise, Jake transformed into a dragon again, and it actually seemed to calm the kid down. “You’re safe now. The humans won’t hurt you anymore, okay?” Jake said, and Tim understood. Having a more magical creature around would help the kid recognize there were no more agents around. It was smart. 

“I’m out?’ The kid croaked. Tim was amazed at how quickly he seemed to trust Jake, but he supposed it made sense. Meta solidarity or something like that. 

“Yeah, you’re out,”Jake reassured, helping the kid lay back down. The kid seemed to lose all strength when he recognized he wasn’t in a lab. “You’re the Ghost king, right? What’s your name?”

“Danny,”The kid sighed, going boneless in Jake’s arms. The dragon was nice and warm, and he hadn’t felt warmth like that in… what felt like forever. Looking around, he saw just a normal bedroom. “Where..”

“I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling better, but you don’t have to worry about them finding you. Just relax and heal, okay?” Jake said, pulling some blankets over Danny without disturbing the injured arm. The teen was still out of it, obviously exhausted from his earlier panic and trauma, but he laid back down easily enough. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Danny was asleep before Jake could even finish his sentence, and all three conscious boys breathed a sigh of relief. “Poor guy,”Randy whispered, plopping down on the chair again. Tim hummed in agreement, and looked over to Jake, who was still holding Danny’s hand in his dragon form. 

“You okay?” Tim asked, and Jake turned to look at him. 

“Yeah,”Jake said, shaking his head. “It’s just. What happened to Danny could have easily happened to me, or any one of the other magical creatures out there. I’m.. It’s my responsibility to protect them from things like this, but I didn’t even know…” Tim patted Jake on the shoulder reassuringly. “You still saved him, and he’ll get better thanks to you.”

“Yeah,”Jake said, turning back to human form in a dazzling show of light. Tim was fascinated, but he swallowed back his questions to not make the guy feel uncomfortable. He ended up yawning, and Jake looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You should take a nap, you’ve been up for like, two days.”

“I’m fine,”Tim yawned again, refusing to tell him that it was more like three days he’d been awake. With Danny in the clear, most of the adrenaline keeping him up was draining out of him. Jake hummed in a way Tim knew he didn’t believe him. 

“Hey, you can just take the couch over there, “Randy piped up, and Tim was wholly unprepared for the guy to foist a handful of blankets on him and drag him over to the couch. “We’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“I’m not tired,”Tim tried to protest, but once he was laying on the couch piled high with blankets, he really didn’t feel like moving. 

“Sure, just rest your eyes then,”Randy said placatingly, and Tim was already on his way to dreamland. 

[honeyvettel]

good news is, yall discussions about david being rosquez child of a divorce yesterday has switched something inside my brain and we’re opening that google doc right the fuck now; bad news is, i have no idea how a four year old child is supposed to act like

[kickbutts-singsongs]

Okay but why did they never have any holiday themed POI episodes?

More specifically, how come they never had a Halloween episode and played “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell in the background?

[lunarharp]

things.. uh... Gentry era au

[tangledinink]

I can imagine the first cycle after moving. Probably Leo because Donnie likely has internal scarring, so leo goes through the process of laying his eggs, panics, his brother can't help, and finally, *finally* they ask for help. It's not willingly. It's not for fun. It's purely necessity. It's purely because there's *literally noone else* and the idea of telling anyone at all is so scary that the way they do so is in a note. Splinter sits them down and basically walks them through "You're safe, you're fine. We can handle this however you feel most comfortable, including getting you both on blockers if you prefer" and they just.... sigh. For the first time, there's *someone else* in their circle, and it's willing and it's warm, and it's *safe*. There will be tears.

Yes, except I'm not convinced that either of them could stand to tell anyone. Even if it was literally life or death (which it has been before,) I'm not sure if either of them could bear to give up that information. Donnie is finally, finally away from the people who hurt him when he got found out last time, and even though logically, he knows that it's different here, he's absolutely petrified of the thought that the same thing will happen again and it won't be over anymore. He's still horrified by the idea of anyone else knowing about Leo when he's gone to such lengths for so long to protect him, and Leo is likewise terrified in the same way. They've spent years with this being their more closely guarded secret, and that's going to be really difficult to give up.

But it's really not a secret they'll be able to keep for long.

They're in a completely different environment, with far less space and privacy. They're both stressed as hell and Donnie WAS on birth control and taking all sorts of vitamins and supplements to make sure he didn't eggbind again and now he's suddenly not and it's not only messing with his body, it's fucking scary. It literally keeps them both up at night. Neither of them know how to wash blood out of clothes or sheets. There's no private en suite bathroom they can sequester themselves away in. They're both literally making themselves sick with anxiety trying to deal with this, and they're used to handling this on their own, this is routine for them, but they're not used to all of this.

They'd probably metaphorically limp through a few cycles before their family puts it together and gently confronts them.

Venus probably figures it out first. She's pretty smart, and incredibly observant, and after all-- she quite literally experiences the exact same thing. April may not lay eggs, but I think she'd be able to get the idea after a bit as well. And while I think Splinter would realize something was wrong pretty quickly, Draxum would probably realize what was wrong first. Splinter has April, so he has a little bit of experience in this realm, but Draxum has Venus and so he has far more experience.

And so when they do sit them down and talk with them, it's going to be really scary at first. And then they get to, "you're safe, you're fine, we can handle this however you feel the most comfortable. It will be okay. No one will hurt you."

And then there's finally other people in the know, in the circle, people who will actually help them. And yes-- there will definitely be tears.

[divinelyjude]

No, I don’t need a therapist. What I need is a fic with 75k+ words that doesn’t take me two hours to read. And a therapist.

[tophats-tea]

drawing fanart everyday for Danganronpa: A New Generation until the First Episode comes out

Day 215: TalentSwap AU log-writing

Check out the fangan!

[skyloftian-nutcase]

“Lie” for the prompt :)

(Get well soon!!)

”Don’t lie to me,” Time said, crossing his arms. “Where is the mask?”

Four squirmed uncomfortably, eyes immediately trailing towards Sky and Twilight, and that was all the explanation their leader needed.

[peppermintack]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[daisywords]

.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

on that note had also been thinking about the hilarious classic maneuver of taking things i go "smh always doing that weird/wrong" & instead putting it in the context of like oh i dunno my life experiences. like going "smh once again in one millisecond i noticed something was about to fall & just sort of Tensed instead of instantly going to catch it & in the next milliseconds hash out like 'oh but could i catch it. oh but now it's in progress am i too late' etc" but like well hang on. first of all the Tense Up / Brace For Impact approach can have its strengths too. second of all like why just kick myself when Of Course the vastly more frequent & relevant experiences of having to stifle reactions & tense up to Brace For Impact / Weather The Situation means that's the standard approach. sure tends to be the case that like "okay test your reflex time :)" type things when i Know It's Coming, i.e. preemptively Tense Up, i turn out quite slow. throwback to a true classic [my roommate that said my cat was performative while their cat did things out of true emotion] at my doctor's appointment at like age thirteen when the ol Knee Bonk Reflex Test would make me Tense/Seize That Knee Up and Then kick. and then afterwards my "big fan of unprompted criticisms / declarations about your internal experiences or true intentions" mom was like you were faking those reflexes. i'm like well i wasn't. she was like yes you were. consider the camera jimmed

secondly i was also thinking like, always been the case that when Talking, often even if in writing format, i can't really avoid mirroring the characteristics of the other person's Style / Patterns lol. was thinking about it in my Relative ease of adopting pronunciations for different language's phonemes when it's like, i guess i do have experience in Doing Voices not b/c i really often Did Voices (sometimes lol, as like, direct quotes or whatever. echoing....) but b/c like i'll just be picking up all kinds of mannerisms / tendencies / ways of speaking, including accents slightly (my default accent being disney channel) not b/c i'm messing with anyone or trying to do anything, in fact trying Not to do this is generally unsuccessfully & This Is What Happens Naturally & always has & it's like yknow what i think it might have to do with the fact that i don't think Talking in general is oh so "natural" for me / a matter of "just being myself" (things virtually never are lol) like. i think that time i had that friend in second grade where i'm like ummm i'm not sure we spoke the same language b/c i'm not sure we spoke hardly ever? but we had fun & played & amused ourselves etc til the teacher as usual went Biggest Time Sicko Mode on our "not paying attention" like nobody else's got & then didn't give a fuck abt "intervening" again when we didn't feel like we were Allowed(tm) to interact at all. & like i'm pretty sure i'd be "supposed" to feel like omg we don't talk (almost) at all?? that's SO weirrrd i remember that soooo welllll

and when i Do talk most "naturally" / "just being myself" it's all at once, wordy, and Theatrical, and even then. i did it some the other day and was Sweating, literally, less so figuratively but it does still feel demanding, and of course even when it doesn't Feel thusly, doing a Lot a lot of verbalizing can really still be draining to Taxing. and i've noticed better like yeah sometimes i'm markedly struggling to speak when i'm already extra wearied. and another thing i put into context better was like "when i'm being put tf through it why do i tend to cry through interactions. b/c i'm being a PUSSY????" like lol just on principle was like okay well who cares, i'm sure you, by which i mean i, have my reasons b/c so too would i think someone else does, like. and i remember like, i tend to Not "directly" cry of stress or sadness virtually ever. while i Do tend to be simply keeping that shit contained but Exactly When i have to try to speak? is when i happen to start crying. hmm. Hmmmm. talking Always this performance that i may often not be up for. similar to [personal visual style / Look / clothes] like my default is "basic outfit i'd want to wear every day" & my ideal is "i do not want to be perceived" & (this &) everything else is performance / drag to me, Would That that always be on my terms

another banger is my till oh so recently kicking myself like "aah [pathologization time] i'm sooo slow to be at ease / comfortable around people even when they're surely being nice, what a hassle for others" like well it can be viewed as a hassle for me but it's also like, wait, i end up having stayed uncomfortable around people who weren't being That nice by putting in That much [any effort from any Consideration] and often turn out like. ultimately not that Safe. and i look at "oh right yeah and also i sure Can be like instantly quite comfortable / at ease around people, including people i literally just met. so" &/or my not being at ease either is still way less of a deal than having to literally/figuratively sweat it while i'd feel so much more Okay avoiding detection much less interaction

[t4tstarvingdog]

king of deleting my snap story

[oculusxcaro]

👫?

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

Contrary to Walter, it's Rorschach that took Khare some getting used to? She met him before without the mask but his brusque manner of speech soon made her more at ease around him just like she does around Walter. She also finds his mask fascinating, how the patterns shift and morph in tones of perfect black and white. She soon picks up on Rorschach's mood, not by asking him what's wrong but by observing his mask, how rapidly it changes and which patterns make themselves present.

Absolutely does little things for each other! Whenever Walter trudges into the diner with nasty cuts or broken fingers, Khare will offer antiseptic and bandages if only to keep infection at bay. In return, Walter checks out the routes she uses going to and from home to ensure nobody's waiting to pounce on unsuspecting passerbys. He's gotten rid of at least one serial attacker whose body was later found floating in the sewers by Killer Croc. Khare doesn't know about this and Walter is perfectly content to keep it that way.

Knows each others secrets yet keeps their lips sealed. Walter found out about Khare's condition at precisely the same time Khare found out he was Rorschach, the hero jumping in to prevent her getting bundled into a car by a group of thugs. Rorschach fought them off but sustained a head injury during the incident while Khare received minimal injuries during the struggle. She hid his hat, mask and coat from the GCPD, claiming it was Walter who had stopped her from getting kidnapped by the group. He noticed the eyes glinting in the darkness, his suspicions confirmed upon noticing her injuries were long gone when he came to retrieve his belongings later that day.

Do these two talk shit about the government? You better believe they do. I bet these two could talk about conspiracies all day long, a sentiment which is not helped when Khare tells Walter what she knows about Prometheus and her experiences at their hands. Rorschach somehow becomes even more violent towards kidnappers. Khare might even help him out, holding them down with a smile while he brutally extracts important information.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[tame-the-lion-writes]

reader x dog shifter 141 [pt.2]

(If you haven't seen it yet, here's part one.)

It’s been a couple weeks, and you’re starting to catch on to just how smart your dogs are.

Not that you know what they actually are—but they’ve got this weirdly human intelligence behind their eyes, and weirdly human personalities. The Great Dane likes to sit on the recliner in your living room, regal and commanding, often watching your front yard whenever the gardener would come over. The gardener’s son replaced him once for a job, leaving grass cuttings in the driveway, and he was all huffy about it. It amused you at first, but then you realized his judgement wasn’t reserved for strangers. He was even more huffy the time you accidentally burned a steak. (Jeez, since when was he a dad?) Not to mention the empty whiskey glasses he likes to keep around, but that's not right—dogs can't have alcohol, can they?

The German Shepherd, on the other hand, is surprisingly clingy—but not in a bump-into-your-leg or overtly cuddly kind of way. Instead, he follows you while never begging for attention, attentive and patient as though a soldier awaiting orders. You’ve been jump-scared one too many times by his presence, when you think you’re alone and he appears out of thing air. A massive giant of a dog, with paws as silent as a shadow. And he’s stubborn—doesn’t initiate contact, but you swear you’ve caught a subtle bashful glance. Especially when you scratch behind his ears and along the scar of his cheek and chin.

But what the Shepherd lacks in open affection, the Labrador makes up tenfold. He doesn't pester about it, though, simply hopping up to your side on the couch to curl up or placing his muzzle on top of your knees. Still, while probably the most obedient out of the four, you’ve seen him get roped into food heists with the Foxhound, or stalking as closely and silently as the Shepherd. Very much the little brother who tags along with whatever. But you can't stay mad at him for long, either—not when he knows how to apologize—bringing you a freshly chomped-off flower from the backyard whenever you get mad. Then he'll sit at your heels with a faint tail wag, whining 'til you're settled and appeased.

The Foxhound is perhaps the most talkative, in both a noisy and conversational way. His joy is unrelenting around you, and he greats you like you’d expect any other dog. Still, he’s awfully communicative. It’s how you’ve learned their names—with you wandering aloud what to call them, and him making faces at every suggestion. He eventually settled for playing retriever: playing charades by bringing you back bottles and bars of soap. For the Great Dane, he grabbed an old receipt from the trash. For the Shepherd, he threw on a sheet. He seemed awfully confused on what to do for the Labrador, though, and just kept whining as if in apology.

“So Soap, Price, Ghost, and…,” you trail off, glancing at the Labrador with a slight pout. “Oh, I’m sorry, boy. I really don’t know what to call you. And Soap here seems like he’s run out of braincells.”

Ghost snorts in amusement, which is returned by Soap’s unfettered glare.

The next morning, though, there really is no explanation as to how Soap learned the alphabet, how to write, or to arrange your bedsheets in the following name: GAZ.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

"Aha... what the fuck."

Price has face-palmed (face-pawed?) and Ghost just walks over and calmly almost slapstick-esque baps Soap on the head. Meanwhile, Gaz looks dejected, pressing his forehead to the front door, like he's expecting you to kick them out in the next five seconds.

Not that you would, of course—but we can queue the mild horror and existential questioning of what the hell these dogs actually are. You call your friend to rant about your theory—that they could be escapees from a top secret government laboratory, or spies from another country. She just says to enter them into a dog show, or make ‘em celebrities on social media.