a/n: here is the highly anticipated pt 2 to my colonel!caleb x medic!reader hc series hehehe. keeping it short for the sake of my sanity + i covered their relationship development in the first part. i was hella stumped with this one and didn’t know where to go from here so im sorry if its not what you expected. i might make it a series next if it does good. and that also means more fluff/smut 👀 . lmk
—> sparkle gif by cursed-carmine!
wc: ~4k? (not proofread) — 🎧 close to you - dayglow
tags: colonel!caleb x medic!reader, highly suggestive/mature content; read at your own discretion, secret lovers trope, yearning caleb yippee, lowk avoidant reader, not dating yet -- relationships are (usually) prohibited in the military, superior x subordinate dynamic, caleb is still a workaholic lol
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
the few private places on the base of the farspace fleet consist of only three areas: the bathrooms, the barracks, and caleb's office, none of which are ever truly private.
so when you kissed colonel caleb xia two weeks ago, you knew this was going to be a terrible mistake.
there was no way on this planet earth you two weren't getting caught sneaking away to fuck like rabbits. but at the end of the day, neither of you really cared. if it worked, it worked. nobody was suspicious. yet.
and even if they were, which you highly doubt, you still wouldn't care. not when you're sitting on your superior's lap, grinding against him like your life depended on it.
caleb's large hands squeeze your hips before snaking their way under the thin fabric of your scrubs. they're pink -- expressive in a world that brought back nothing but death and bad news. expressive just like you.
your skin is soft under his touch, just like he expected. caleb almost swears he's dreaming when you let him lift your shirt off, in which he throws it behind his back in a hasty manner. once gone, his lips fly to your neck in an instant.
"'leb," you pant, running your hands through his dark hair. "careful-- ah-- don't leave any marks."
he simply hums against your skin and sucks a hickey into it anyway, making heat flood in between your thighs.
"that's not my name, baby."
caleb soothes the mark with a teasing swipe of his tongue, admiring how quickly the spot becomes red. the sensation makes you whimper and squirm in his grasp, which makes his grip on your hips tighten. you know what he's referring to, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. but you give in anyway.
"colonel--"
three devastating knocks at the door snap the both of you out of your sexual haze. caleb lets out a frustrated sigh as he glances at the door, reluctant to release you even as you're panicking to slip out of his arms.
"permission to enter, sir?" the gruff voice asks from outside, which the both of you recognize as liam, caleb's lieutenant and second-in-command. he purses his lips, knowing that ignoring him would be the wrong decision. finally, he lets you go.
"hold on, liam," he coughs, leaning back in his seat as he discreetly tries to adjust the tent in his pants. "give me a minute."
while he's distracting the lieutenant, you look at yourself on a small mirror propped up against the wall, noticing the hickey immediately. it's huge, and in a spot that can't easily be covered without makeup. bastard.
leaving you no other choice, you quickly pull your hair down from your messy bun, pulling the strands to rest over your shoulders before combing through them with your fingers to ensure you don't look like a wreck.
the second you turn back to look at caleb, he immediately notices the way your hair is now down. he suppresses a smirk but gives you a nod, signaling that it's okay for you to go now.
but you'd much rather dig a hole, crawl inside it, and die, right here in his office.
with a deep breath, you force yourself to reach for the door's handle, knowing you'll definitely get some sort of weird stare from liam.
pulling the door open, the lieutenant's eyes widen slightly before schooling his expression back into a neutral one, he nods once in acknowledgement before stepping aside to let you pass. but once you're gone, he looks at caleb with a raised eyebrow before stepping inside the office and closing the door behind him.
caleb frowns, annoyed for getting cockblocked and being accused of participating in forbidden behavior (he was).
"meeting," he's quick to say, his defensiveness only growing at his comrade's skeptical expression. "we were having a meeting-- hey, don't make it weird. that's an order."
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
the next time it happens is in an elevator.
yes, an elevator.
the base is always busy, but somehow it’s busier than normal. recruits are rushing to get in formation in time, others are on their way to the cafeteria for lunch break, and you are stuck on a supply run, hauling a huge crate of medical supplies to the elevator.
your arms ache from how heavy it is, but you carry on. you’re not fond of breaks; they only slow you down in the long run. it doesn’t help that these people in the hallways are moving as slow as rocks; you have to purse your lips to keep yourself from telling them off.
once you finally reach the elevator, there’s a small crowd already waiting for the next lift.
great. just my luck, you think to yourself.
you join the crowd and set the supplies down at your feet with a soft groan. your back aches from supporting all the weight, so you rest your hands on your hips to stretch slightly.
but as soon as you get a moment’s reprieve, the elevator doors open. soldiers start to flood out, and you bite your tongue to resist the urge to scream. you lean back down to pick up the crate, but by the time you have it comfortably settled against your stomach, the elevator is already packed.
there was no way you were were walking up the stairs, and you were too impatient to wait for another lift. screw this base for only having one elevator on ground level.
with a resigned sigh, you set the crate down— again— settling for waiting for the next one.
the current lift closes and goes up. you watch in silence, crossing your arms over your chest. but before you can react, you feel a slight force next to you. it’s magnetic and grounding, somewhat heavy, and oddly familiar.
when you look over, the crate beside you is floating.
caleb.
as if on cue, you hear footsteps approach you from behind. the colonel has an easy smile on his face, one he only reserves for you.
“if you needed help, you could have just asked me,” he hums, using his evol to gently place the supplies back on the ground. you shake your head, both flattered and amused.
“it’s fine,” you shake your head. “guess today just isn’t my day.”
caleb raises an eyebrow and mirrors your stance, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“doesn’t seem fine to me,” he retorts. “you were standin’ around like a granny with back problems before i came.”
you roll your eyes.
“okay. maybe it is a bit heavy. but i can carry it just fine.”
“i know you can,” he replies with mock sympathy. “you’re a strong girl. you’ve been carrying that around all day, though. anyone would get tired doing that.”
before you can respond, the elevator arrives back on ground floor, empty. what a miracle.
you begin to lean down to pick it up, but caleb’s evol activates again and lifts the crate off the ground, refusing to let you carry it again.
“ah ah,” he tuts admonishingly. “let me. i can handle it.”
sore and too tired to argue, you let him, sighing softly as you two enter the elevator.
he has a smug smirk as he wins this battle, but says nothing more as you lean against the cold, metal walls of the elevator. caleb reaches over to press a few buttons. he doesn’t have to ask what your floor is; his office and the medical station are on the same floor.
with a soft click, the elevator closes, leaving you two alone in a small, enclosed space. caleb sets the crate down at your feet once more, pretending to be occupied as he counts the tiles on the lift’s ceiling.
the silence is quickly replaced by elevator lobby music, but neither of you are worrying about that. it's as if the two of you are trapped together in a little bubble, creating your own world. and there's nothing to do except get closer.
caleb whistles a soft tune from beside you when he realizes the lift will take a while, rocking on his heels back and forth.
"so..." he trails off. "how's your day?"
stupid question. he knows you've been running around base gathering supplies; he's seen you. to his (un)surprise, you shrug it off as you stretch your arms.
"tiring," you admit. "and a bit boring. i'm not used to working outside of the med-bay."
he hums in acknowledgement before silence falls over the two of you again. ever since liam almost walked in on you two, things have been a bit awkward. caleb can't tell if it was the semi-public indecency or his lieutenant that scared you away, but he doesn't blame you.
that situation had him feeling conflicted too. while you were working and saving lives, he'd spent every day since then brooding in his office while thinking of ways to expand this complication between you two past hooking up.
he knows this is against the rules. he knows he could get in trouble for pursuing a relationship with one of his colleagues. and he knows he should stop — but he can't. you simply feel too good to quit.
ultimately, he decides to address the situation. he's never been good with his guilty conscience, and likes to clear things up as quickly as possible. part of this habit also comes from his swiftness as a colonel, but he realizes that he should go about this moment as caleb, not as the colonel.
he also realizes that while the colonel tells him to stop, caleb tells him to keep going. while the colonel says this is wrong, caleb says to ask her out as a way to apologize for what happened.
the colonel is a part of him, but it's not all of him. so he listens to caleb.
"look. about last week—" he starts, but you quickly shut him down with a shake of your head. you’d already wiped the horrific moment from your memory, and didn’t want it back.
“it’s okay,” you insist, feeling your cheeks get hot. “we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—“
he cuts you off this time with an apologetic (yet slightly sheepish) smile on his face.
“no, i want to! i just feel bad for what happened,” caleb’s hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “it was unfortunate timing, and i want to make it up to you— for real. so, i was wondering—“
ding.
the elevator doors open.
caleb’s fists clench at his sides, but his face remains neutral. why is this always happening to him? why can’t he have a normal conversation with you without the world constantly interrupting him?
meanwhile, you take this as an opportunity to flee the conversation. not because you don’t like caleb— because you do. you really do— but because you know this is wrong, and because the concept of being in a relationship with your superior still freaks you out.
“it’s okay, caleb. really!” you ramble, picking up the crate of supplies before he can lift, or, rather, float it for you. “we can make it up some other time, but i’m really busy— i’ll see you later!”
he purses his lips but flattens them out into a strained smile as he waves you off. not long after, the elevator floods again, and it isn’t until it starts moving again that he realizes that he should have gotten off with you. his office is quite literally on the same floor as the medical bay.
caleb resists the urge to punch something. he had been too lost in his thoughts (and your beauty) to get out at the correct floor.
then, he sighs softly, accepting his fate and preparing to wait another ten minutes before he can return to his workplace. but the whole way back to his office, he’s thinking about ways to bridge the gap between you two.
damn it.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
caleb can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose or if the world is genuinely fucking with him.
he doesn’t blame you for being busy— you’re just doing your job, after all. but it’s as if your job is all you’re doing. he can’t even catch you when you’re on break because you’d rather spend that time socializing with friends instead of taking a breath alone.
how is he supposed to approach you in front of your colleagues? and why would the colonel get all shy and bashful around the base’s medic? he’d rather die than embarrass himself like that.
one day, he figures that if you’re unable to come to him, he’ll come to you.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
it was an accident. mostly.
before joining the farspace fleet, and even the daa, he knew the risks of flying near the deepspace tunnel: radiation exposure, wanderer attacks, protocore fluctuations, even muscle strain and neck/back pain from flying too long. but none of that stopped him.
especially not when the one mission caleb had been trying to complete for months was just within reach.
the objective was supposedly simple: record data based on the increase and decrease of protocore fluctuations at different depths of the tunnel. but the planes at the fleet weren’t suited to handle the immense pressure of the tunnel.
having yet to perfect the durability of the jets, researchers in the fleet still managed to make significant progress. so while the planes could handle the pressure, it wouldn’t be for long. caleb knew this and decided to take the risks anyway, knowing you’d be right back on base, eager to patch him up if anything ever happened.
…now, the word “anything” was an understatement.
his partners warned him not to go any deeper. the jet itself told him not to push his luck. but as caleb stares at the red letters on his radar, his determination to finish this mission began to outweigh the thoughts of death and destruction.
[warning: cabin pressure low. turn back now.]
he should have listened.
when he next awakens, he’s blinded by the fluorescence of the base’s lights and by the beauty of your worried face as you and a few other nurses wheel him to the medbay on a gurney.
his whole body hurts, and it’s as if someone’s splitting his skull open, but seeing your face and hearing your voice makes him feel just the tiniest bit better. in the end, he won.
“colonel!” you call out to him with the perfect mix of worry and professionalism. “can you hear me?”
caleb groans softly but manages a nod.
“yeah, i—“ he’s unable to finish his sentence thanks to a coughing fit, the taste of metal filling his mouth. your lips press into a thin line as you grab the clipboard from the base of the gurney.
“schedule him for an mri,” you order, your free hand lifting up his shirt to gently press against his abdomen. he lets out a pained grunt despite the shiver that goes down his spine at your touch. “no swelling yet, but there could be internal bleeding.”
a nurse nods and takes the clipboard from you, off to schedule the scan you requested. but your focus is now on him.
meanwhile, his brows furrow.
internal bleeding?
“you passed out while in the cockpit,” you explain to him, finally wheeling him into an empty room. you pull the blue curtains to section off the area from the outside world. “you’re lucky your colleagues were there when it happened.”
oh, that’s right. he remembers now.
the deeper into the tunnel he went, the more unwell he felt. he ignored it— a bad idea, he later realizes. the last thing caleb remembers was pressing the emergency button to his side.
he frowns slightly but lets you work on him, tracking your every move.
“oh. are they alright?” he asks.
you administer an iv drip to his arm while another nurse hooks up the heart monitor. you glance up at the monitor before cursing under your breath, lifting up his shirt again and pressing your stethoscope to his bare chest.
“he’s a bit tachy—“ you declare, looking at the rapid 176 on the screen. “start an esmolol drip— yeah, they’re okay. no major injuries.”
your response is half-hearted, too focused on treating him rather than making conversation. but underneath the professionalism is something deeper than just being professional.
it’s not like you two were professional in the first place, but you care for him— you really do.
he can’t make out what the hell you’re saying. it’s all medical nonsense he doesn’t understand, but hearing you speak it is like music to his ears. because of this, he decides to remain silent until a majority of his treatment is over.
he hopes that by then, you’ll stop treating him like a patient and more like caleb. your caleb.
by the time the medicine kicked in, the medical bay is quiet, and he can hear you greet the other nurses a good night as they sign out for the day. then, footsteps get louder outside his room.
you gently pull open the curtains, clipboard in hand as you look down at caleb. even when critically injured, he still looks incredibly handsome.
he opens his eyes upon sensing your arrival, his eyes softening his a fraction.
“you feeling alright?” you inquire, walking over to his side to check his vitals. your gentle hands work methodically to monitor his blood pressure before writing it down on the clipboard.
“not really,” he tries to lighten the mood with a self-deprecating joke, but straightens out when you seem to take it seriously. “but i feel better now that you’re here.”
you stay silent for a moment, eyes locked onto the clipboard. then, you turn around, peeking your head outside the curtain. it’s just the two of you in the med-bay.
suddenly, you feel your cheeks flush with warmth. you haven’t been alone with him since the incident in his office.
you turn back to face him, standing off to the side of his bed. you don’t look happy.
“why would you do that?” you hiss, your hands clutching your clipboard too hard for comfort. “you knew the risks!”
when you scold him, caleb cracks a tired smile. god, he missed your voice.
“worried? aww.”
“this isn’t funny, caleb!” you frown.
“you’re right. it’s not,” he hums. “it’s cute.”
you quickly shut your lips, restraining yourself from saying anything else. when caleb teases you like this, you’ve learned it’s best to keep quiet. talking to him is like talking to a brick wall.
“of course i was worried,” you sigh, your tone softer as you shove your clipboard under your arm. “i always worry when you do stupid shit like this. and maybe i’m worrying more than i should be, because technically you’re my boss, and—“
“go out with me.”
his words stop your rambling immediately. you glare at him, eyes widened slightly.
“what?”
his violet eyes trace over every delicate curve of your face, landing on the soft slope of your lips. his heart hurts knowing that he hadn’t kissed them in ages, but he repeats his offer with no hesitation.
“go out with me. i don’t care if i get court-martialed. i want you.”
you swallow the lump in your throat. the moment you had been avoiding was finally here, and you’re beginning to think that you’re the tachycardic one with how fast your heart is beating.
sure, you love your job. but lately, you’ve realized that maybe you love him, too. each day without seeing him only leaves you wanting more.
“i—“ you begin, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.
“it’s okay. you don’t have to answer now,” he reassures you. “i just wanted to tell you in case we got interrupted again. it’s been weighing on my mind recently, and i would have gone crazy if i didn’t do anything about it.”
his voice is hoarse and weak from hours of unuse (you had told him to go easy on the speaking, not wanting him to cough up any more blood). but it’s also sincere and soft in a way he’s never spoken to anyone before.
for a moment, you hesitate. you think of excusing yourself to go get him water. something, anything that would allow you to get away from him and collect your thoughts. but caleb is too perceptive for that.
“don’t run away,” he pauses to take a short breath. “please.”
those words are all it takes for the wall of professionalism between you two to melt away.
with a sigh, you take a step closer to the edge of the gurney.
“okay. i won’t,” you murmur, hesitating for a moment before bringing your hand up to softly stroke his hair. caleb leans into your touch like a cat, closing his eyes.
the two of you bask in silence. you’ve done this many times, but now it’s different. it’s not awkward or tense; now it’s comfortable. intimate, even.
caleb sighs softly, now comfortable despite the lingering ache in his body. he knows the next briefing won’t be good, but all he cares about is you. only you.
your hand lingers on the top of his head for just a moment before slowly removing it. he looks peaceful for once, not worrying about missions or slow recruits. a warmth blooms through your heart, thinking that this look suits him much better.
as you stare at him, you realize that you wouldn’t mind waking up to this face in the morning. you wouldn’t mind his corny jokes, or the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you.
a normal, domestic life sounds… nice.
caleb notices the change in your expression and cracks a small smirk, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. he manages to prop himself up into a sitting position, his back still supported by the gurney.
“what are you thinking about?” he quips.
you’re quick to shake your head and dismiss him, but it’s useless. the two of you are alone, so why did you still want to hide?
“nothing,” you reply. “i just missed you.”
caleb’s eyes soften. wanting to return the favor, he outstretches an arm to brush over your cheekbone with his hand.
“hey. don’t be like that,” he smiles softly. “i’m here now, aren’t i? come here.”
when you obey and lean closer, he meets you halfway with a kiss to your lips. they’re slightly chapped, but they feel like heaven against your skin as you kiss him back gently, still mindful of his fragile state.
when you pull away, you rest your forehead against his.
“for the record,” you breathe. “i’d love to go out with you.”
i apologize to the med majors for the medical inaccuracies LMAOOO. i did very minimal research. sorry this took so long — been busy. but i hope you enjoyed. not my best work but it’s something :,)
tag-list! (to those of you who did not specifically ask for a tag, i apologize haha just thought you’d like the update)
do not transfer my work to any other platform or feed it to ai. if a post of mine sparks your creativity, please credit/tag me. i would love to read what you write.
A/N: finally a more batfam centric chapter hehehe…also!! it won’t let me add photos to this chapter rn, but I’ll try again later ughhhh but yay batfam!! :)
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SERIES MASTERLIST
Something about Gotham was always colder than New York. Maybe it was the perpetual rainfall, or maybe it was the fear that laces through your veins making it feel cooler.
Whatever it is, it makes you shiver. Pulling your coat tighter around you as you pace up the driveway.
Alfred was indisposed, meaning you had to catch a cab willing to drive to Gotham. Unfortunately, that just doesn’t happen, leaving you to take the trains.
An hour trip shortened by the train, quickly lengthened again by the dense traffic when you finally caught a taxi in the Bowery.
When the man heard Wayne Manor, he’d grinned, assuming that meant a large tip was coming. Unfortunately for him, and also you when he kicked you out, just because you’re Bruce Wayne’s daughter, doesn’t mean you’re rich.
He drove away, mumbling something about holding you for ransom would’ve paid more. You’d grimaced, quickly walking down the tree lined streets to get to your father’s house.
And that lead you to now, the door to the manor creaking open as if it really is a haunted house.
It definitely feels like it.
Dick gasps, pulling you inside when he sees your rain soaked appearance. “How long were you waiting out there?!” He shoves a coat from the closet at you, pressing it against your face.
You push his hands away as he almost smothers you in an attempt to dry off.
“Not long.” He frowns at your answer, eyeing you skeptically before tugging you down the hall.
Your shoes squeak against the tiles, leaving muddy footprints in your path. Checking over your shoulder, you try to escape Dick’s grasp.
“Alfred’s going to kill me—Dick, let me go.”
“B’s already here for dinner, you’re late. C’mon. He was getting worried.” Dick ignores your protests, shoving open the kitchen door and pushing you inside. He presents you like you’re the grand prize of a game show and he’s Vanna White.
Your father’s eyes meet you, a relieved look filling them before he forces a neutral expression. Your hopes drop at the exchange.
Quickly glancing over, you see that Tim is also here.
You pick the seat furthest from him, immediately regretting it when you realize it’s next to your father.
“Hey.” You mumble, shifting awkwardly in your seat.
He nods absentmindedly at you, poking the vegetables on his plate.
Dick senses the tension, kicking at you beneath the table. “So…how’s school? Anything new?”
“School is fine.” You relax a little at the conversation. “There’s a dance coming up.”
You smile softly, excitement bubbling in your stomach as it briefly overtakes the nerves.
“Nice, nice.” Dick sends a pointed look towards Bruce, making him clear his throat.
“Um, that’s nice. Do you have a dress?” He attempts, his words falling flat.
You force yourself not to frown at his disinterest. “Not yet. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Are you going with anyone?” Tim cuts in, making you wince as everyone’s eyes land on you, suddenly much more intense.
Dick raises as eyebrow.
“Yeah,” smoothing your hands over your lap, you try to steady your voice, “just Harry.”
“Just Harry?” Bruce frowns.
“Yeah, he’s been my friend since well, for as long as I can remember, I guess.” Bruce sits straighter at your words, leaning back like he’s been zapped.
“Right.” He speaks slowly, standing.
You gape at him as he excuses himself, leaving the room completely.
Turning back to Dick, he sends you a sheepish smile before following Bruce. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him.”
And now you’re left alone with Tim.
It’s quiet but you can feel his gaze on you, studying you.
You fight the urge to throw your fork at him. Gripping the table cloth in an attempt to soothe your anger, you turn towards him.
“What?” You snap.
He shrugs, “It’s nothing.”
“No, what do you want?” You can feel that familiar anger again, the one you felt before hitting Flash Thompson. It’s been more prevalent recently, the spider bite seemingly increasing every feeling you have.
“Nothing. I’m just curious, I guess.” He continues when you don’t respond. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? Im not allowed to be here? He’s my dad.” You know it’s a low blow, especially since his own father died not that long ago. “Sorry.”
He shrugs, still not blinking. “It’s fine, you’re right. But that doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be here. Bruce doesn’t want you here.”
You scoff at him, crossing your arms angrily. “That’s ridiculous.” Is it?
You push away the nagging voice in your head as Tim speaks again.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here for what? A dress? He sends you enough money every month for you to be able to afford one. So why are you here?”
He sends you enough money every month…
Your ears begin to ring as the words repeat in your head. He sends you enough money every month…
You haven’t seen any money, and your aunt and uncle obviously haven’t either. The most expensive thing they own is Uncle Ben’s old car that he bought second hand—really, more likely third hand based on the looks of it.
“Whatever.” You grumble, head beginning to pound from the confusion. Standing, you leave as quickly as you can, both to escape his curious gaze and to find your father.
Is Tim lying about the money? Or is Bruce lying about sending some to look like he’s a better father than he is?
One things for certain, you’re going to get to the bottom of this.
—
After searching the halls for over an hour with still no sign of Bruce Wayne, you decide to call it a night.
You can just ask for some money in the morning and hop on the first train out of this wretched city.
Morning comes earlier than you’d like, forcing you downstairs as Alfred knocks on your door to inform you it’s time for breakfast.
“Coming!” You shout, slipping out of the bed that seems like it’s bigger than your room at home.
Rubbing your eyes blearily as sunlight streams in through the pale pink curtains.
There’s a stuffed elephant sitting on the reading chair in the nook, tufts of fluff coming out of its neck from overuse. Dick had given it to you for Christmas years ago, claiming it matches his own stuffed elephant. You don’t remember that, but it’s obvious you loved the creature.
Apparently you’d decorated the room yourself when you were younger, or rather, you’d picked it all out. You don’t remember that either.
Breakfast is slow. You pick at your food tiredly while you sit alone in the dining room.
Who knows where your father and brothers are? Definitely not you.
“They should be coming soon.” Alfred apologizes, an annoyed look crossing his features.
“Don’t bother, I’m ready to head out anyways.”
“Oh.” He pauses, “I didn’t realize you’d be leaving so soon. How are you planning to get home?”
“I’ll just take the train again.”
“Again? You took them last night?” He straightens, glancing towards the door.
What is with everyone in this city being so weird? You grimace at the man, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll drive you back.”
“No, I’m fine. Really.” You insist, the last thing you want to do is be around anyone that has anything to do with Bruce Wayne.
“I’ll drive you. Go say your goodbyes while I pack up breakfast and then we can go.”
“Fine.” You grumble, setting your plate in the sink.
There’s no way you’re going to say goodbye to anyone. Not that there’s anyone here to say goodbye to, you think bitterly.
You rush to your room, just wanting to get out of here. As you’re throwing your things into your bag, Dick peeks his head inside.
“Hey, what’re you doing?”
“Packing?” You don’t even bother looking at him as you stuff a blanket into your bag. So what if you don’t like your father, that doesn’t mean you can’t take a $500 blanket from him.
“Why?” You finally turn around, hearing the frown in his voice.
“Why wouldn’t I?” You huff angrily, “Nobody is here anyways. You’re gone, dad’s gone and Tim is—well I’d rather face the Joker than spend another second with him.”
Dick winces at your words, face dropping significantly. “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not joking. He’s weird and he’s always staring. It’s not like he wants me around anyways, he told me so himself. So if you don’t mind, and even if you do, I’m leaving.”
You finish your rant, slinging the bag over your shoulder as Dick follows you out the room.
You meet Tim’s eyes as you exit the doorway, glaring at him as you pass. Of course he heard that.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighs, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt.
“How else could you mean it?” Your gaze doesn’t soften as you stomp away from him.
He trails after you, Dick still following as well. Any onlooker would laugh at the parade-like nature of your departure.
“I just meant that, well…” He trails off as Dick bumps his shoulder.
“Whatever. I don’t care, just leave me alone.”
“C’mon,” Dick says your name pleadingly, “just wait, okay? Dad’ll be awake any minute. At least say bye to him.”
Your frown deepens at the idea as you continue pacing away from them. They rush to keep up.
“He’s in his office, I can take you there.”
“Will you guys shut up if I do?”
“Yes.”
“I will, I don’t know if he can.”
Dick frowns at Tim’s jab, shaking his head.
“I’ll leave you alone. I’ll even take you back to your aunt’s myself.”
“That is literally the exact opposite of leaving me alone.”
He grimaces with a shrug. “Whatever. Turn here.” He drags you down a different hallway.
You want to tell him you know where the office is, but you actually don’t. Your heart sinks at the reminder of just how far removed you are from this life.
Dick knocks on the door harshly before you can stop him, quickly shoving you inside as it swings open.
The door shuts behind you and you’re standing face to face with your father. Alone.
“Uh, hi.”
“Are you alright?” Worry lines his face, confusion written across it as well.
“Yeah.” You adjust the strap of your bag, drawing Bruce’s eyes to it. His mouth parts in a quiet Oh before you continue. “I’m going home.”
“Home.” The word tastes bad in his mouth as he’s reminded once again just how distant you are now. “Right.”
He frowns before continuing, “You were insistent on coming here. Was there a reason why?”
You clear your throat, having forgotten already. “Oh, uh, yeah. I need a dress for the dance. I was wondering if you…well, if you could send me some money for one.”
He nods quickly, already reaching into his desk for his checkbook.
“Cash would be better.” You interrupt, “I need it for Friday, not sure the check would clear in time.”
“Right.” He grimaces, reaching for his wallet instead. “Actually, Alfred was going through some of the boxes in the attic and found some of my mother’s old dresses. I don’t know if you’d be interested in looking at any of them?”
Your heart flips. “Sure.”
He nods, opening the office door. “They’re in my room.”
He takes your bag from you, slinging it over his own shoulder to carry it. You honestly forgot it was there, the weight seeming like nothing to you.
“Here.” He pushes open the door, revealing several boxes stacked in front of the window.
You run your fingers along one of the boxes as he takes it off the pile, setting it in front of you. Gasping softly as you open it, you pull out a short black lace dress. Modest but still fun.
You forgot his parents died when he was young, when they were young. Probably about the same age that you were when yours did.
Your heart pangs as you pull out the other dresses.
This should be something you two could’ve bonded over, parents dying young. Instead, he sent you away immediately after.
Maybe it was just too much for him.
Maybe you’re too much for him.
Your fingers grasp the last dress tightly, clinging to it like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose it is. It’s one last thing that connects you to your father.
Even if you are mad at him.
“I like this one.”
“Yeah?” He grunts, sounding almost startled. You look at him as he shakes his head. “Try it on. You can use my bathroom.” He nods to the ensuite.
“Okay.” The corners of your lips tug into a smile as you shut the door, tugging off one of what you assume is Dick’s old Gotham Academy sweatshirts, not noticing that the year is way later than he’d graduated.
As you slip the dress on, you freeze, staring into the mirror. This is your grandmother’s dress. One of her favorites, judging by the way it appeared in several family photos.
You tug at the bottom of the dress anxiously, opening the bathroom door.
Bruce turns around, lips tugging into a smile at the sight. “Wow.” He breathes out. “You look beautiful.”
Your heart this softly in your chest, cheeks flushing at the compliment. You think this is the most personal conversation you’ve had with him so far. “Thanks, dad.” You’ve also never called him that.
Richard Parker was always dad.
Bruce Wayne was…nothing. You avoided him the same way he always avoided you. That didn’t leave much room for any names.
His jaw ticks, “You can take a couple. The others, they’d just be stuck in the attic. You’ll actually use them.”
“They can stay.” Maybe that’ll give you a reason to come back.
For the first time in years, it almost feels like you’re welcome here.
“Well,” Bruce stands, clearing his throat, “You should get going. I think Dick said he’ll drive you back.”
“Right.” A frown settles across your face as you’re brought back to reality. He doesn’t care about you.
—
The drive home as long. Too long.
Dick spent the entire time chattering endlessly about his girlfriend and his job and whatever else came to mind.
The following week was longer.
Days dragged on as you anxiously anticipated Friday night.
You’d already cleared it with your Aunt that you’d be staying with Gwen, and Gwen has already agreed to cover for you so long as you come to her family brunch the next day.
A win-win. An alibi and free food. Plus however much money you’re going to win at the fight.
By the time Friday finally arrives, you’re barely able to sit still as May sweeps a brush across your cheek, adding a soft shimmer of makeup.
Your nose wrinkles at the feeling.
“Tickles?” She asks, smiling softly. You nod, giggling.
Uncle Ben leans in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Do you need to go to the dance with a boy?”
Both you and May turn to scowl at him. You roll your eyes halfheartedly, a laugh tumbling past your lips. “It’s just Harry!”
“Just Harry.” He scoffs, repeating your words. “The very same Harry that got you suspended in seventh grade?”
“That’s not fair and you know it. How was he supposed to know the lab would explode?”
“His father’s a scientist.”
“So is mine?” You raise an eyebrow as he huffs.
“Whatever, I still don’t have to like it. And you better call when you get to Gwen’s.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
The doorbell rings and Uncle Ben excuses himself to get the door. You can hear him and Harry chatting downstairs, no threats mentioned thus far.
After another minute or so, Aunt May steps back to look at you. She coos softly, brushing your cheek with her fingers. “You’re so beautiful. You look so much like your mom.”
You flush under her attention, smiling nervously as you tug at your dress. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“You already know that boy is obsessed with you, now go downstairs, we need to get pictures.” She laughs, heading out the door.
You follow her downstairs, setting your backpack by the door so you wouldn’t forget your costume for the fight.
After several pictures, and then several more, you and Harry were finally allowed to leave for the dance.
“Ready?” He asks with a teasing grin, shutting the door to his car. His much too expensive car.
“Yeah.” You breathe softly, fingers clenching around the strap of your backpack. Relaxing into the seat beside him, you smile as you consider how well things have been going recently.
Hehehe a little fic idea! (or an alternate route how a certain scene in the latest MOTM update could've gone)
This is just a drafted idea though. If I write this into a full story, most of this will stay the same, just edited to be a bit better.
WARNING: Obsessive behavior
~~~
“Ugh, who do these guys think they are?”
Dandy glances over to the TV-headed Toon, curious as to what could be the cause of their frustration.
“Hm? Something wrong, Vee?”
“Some guys are trying to get into Garden View through the railways,” Vee groans. “They’re not Dyle, or anyone else authorized to use the tracks, yet they have the audacity to-”
“CONNECT ME TO DANDICUS IMMEDIATELY”
(story continues below the cut)
The world seems to pause. Both were stunned, though for different reasons.
“He wouldn’t leave his old dance partner hanging…”
Vee’s eyes narrow, wondering who the heck this guy was and how they knew the Star so personally.
Dandy’s, however, widens with realization. Oh, he was ecstatic, heart thumping so fast, knowing who was at the other end. Who pleaded for his help once more.
Oh, the Star was not expecting him to arrive so soon.
“Let them in,” Dandy commanded. “H- They may enter.”
“But sir-”
Vee was interrupted, shoved to the side by the flower. Dandy began to enter his credentials, overriding the protocols with a final click.
“What the hell?” Vee huffs, turning around to leave. “I- you know what? Do whatever the fuck you want!”
But those words fell on deaf ears. No, the Star wasn’t listening, at least, not when his attention was focused on another Toon.
A maddening grin forms upon his face as he stares at the screen. Finally, he turns around to leave, knowing that he should prepare for his beloved’s arrival
---
The gang sighed, stretching their tense limbs as they exited the train onto the platform.
They were so relieved when the gates had finally opened and slammed shut before Dyle the monster could reach them.
However, they weren’t out of it yet.
“Uh, guys?” Boris nervously questioned. “Why are they all looking at us?”
The guys looked up to see a myriad of medical Toons, all whose eyes were staring at the new arrivals.
“Well, it probably doesn’t help that I’m currently a walking corpse!” piped up the cup.
“Or the fact we’re all wanted criminals…” muttered Mugman.
It was unnerving, to say the least.
Though that was the least of their concerns for the moment anyway.
Bendy’s tail swished anxiously as he glanced around, hoping to not see a certain figure, despite calling his name. After a while, he relaxed, not seeing anything too concerning.
Though it was only a few moments before a flash of rainbow colors consumed his view. Bendy tensed as he felt hands upon his, grasp tight as he was swung and twirled in a painfully familiar way.
As he almost stumbled to a stop, Bendy felt his heart drop as the unexpected figure spoke.
“My darling!~ How I missed you~”
He was pulled into a tight hug, then a hand lifted his head, forcing Bendy to face the other.
Terrified eyes met crazed red.
A lustful gaze latched onto his panicked expression.
“Oh, how wonderful it is to have you once more!”
~~~
Since this is (technically? kinda?) Inkypetals...
*tosses this fic*
@coffee-nya @foresthouseowo @kotton06here @kredenakrejn ya go!
Reader goes to the circus one day and he sees them in the crowd and he immediately becomes obsessed with them. They cheered the loudest during his act, they were the first in line to get his autograph so it's only natural he follows them home and leaves them balloons in the shape of roses. Now reader just HAS to join the circus with Clown Yandere, preferably before they leave the town. (Slight nsfw if you want)
Yandere clown x reader - slight nsfw plus he's a little bit of a freak
[you guys are feeding me with these requests 🤩 now on to my next one!]
Being a clown was the best job he could ask for. After every performance, he thanked the ringmaster for finally giving him a chance. He would do anything for his audience anything for-
Who was that?
As soon as he stepped onto the stage to start his routine, he spotted a face he had never seen before. While new faces were not unusual, the way you smiled at him made him feel warm really, really warm.
He continued his performance without missing a beat. Even though he didn’t even know your name, he felt compelled to make sure every move he made was perfect. He never took his eyes off you and watched as your smile grew wider and your applause grew louder.
The look on your face was burned into his mind as he took a bow to the crowd.
Imagine his surprise when he saw the first person in line for his after-show meet and greet was you. "You were really good out there," you handed him a small drawing of himself.
"Did you draw this?" he asked in awe.
"Yeah! I'm a big fan of your work…I also have a special interest in clowns," you said shyly.
Was it your smile or the way you spoke to him that made him feel this way? And on top of that, it seemed like you liked him. He began to let out small giggles as he signed over your little drawing. With a little heart at the end of his name, he handed it back to you with a smile.
"I hope to see you soon," he said, completely seriously.
"Me too! Thank you!" He watched you leave, hugging the picture to your chest.
Suddenly, he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder. The ringmaster stood behind him with an unreadable expression. "My, my, what do we have here?" still a blank look on his face. "Tell me you won’t be out for the whole night, will you?"
"No, maybe just a few hours."
—
With permission from his boss to take some time off work, he felt free to patiently wait for your bedroom light to turn off. He knew that just because the light was off didn’t mean you were asleep, so he waited an extra hour before sneaking into your room through the window.
"Ah, so cute," he whispered to himself, tiptoeing around and letting out soft jingles as he explored.
"Oh!" He playfully plucked the phone from your sleeping grasp. "What a silly goose, you really shouldn’t have this before going to sleep!"
"Gasp! And no password? Well, that just means there's only one thing for me to do now," he said, taking a picture of himself with you in the background. "Hehehe, they're going to have such a cute look on their faces when they see this. Too bad I won't be there to witness it."
Your slight stirring caught his attention. "Mgh... what's going on?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. "You- you're in my room… Am I dreaming?" He watched as your eyes widened in surprise.
He let out a chuckle. "What do you think, my dear?" He smirked, leaning down to rest his head against the sheets.
"I've never dreamed of a real person before… especially not one in my bedroom," he felt you run your fingers through his hair, playing with it lightly. "You feel so real."
"My, what a compliment. I bet you feel 'very' real as well."
You pulled your hand back to your chest. "What do I do now?"
"What do you want to do with me, reader?" he asked, his gaze steady on you.
At the sound of your name being called, you stumbled through your next sentence, "W-with you?"
He climbed onto the bed, looking down at you running his hands over his body as he sat on your hip "Yes, you can do anything you'd like with me I don't mind at all."
Instantly you pull him on top of you for a kiss, keeping a hand on the back of his head at the same time. You felt so much warmer on the inside than when you brushed your fingers against him.
He wanted, no, needed more of this, and if his mind wasn't set before it sure was now. You broke the kiss in short gasps of air. "Your tongue is green?"
"Along with other things, yes, a lot of my fluid is green." he could feel your body become hot, your brain actively frying itself. "Other things?"
"Would you like to see?"
"m-maybe? But not now! another time," you kept your eyes on his mouth
"That's fine too," he put his head in the crook of your neck
"I think…I think I'm going to go back to sleep now."
—
The whole circus could hear him skipping around. As annoying as it was, he made his way into the ringmaster's tent.
"I'm back, boss!" he announced happily.
"That you are, but all by yourself? I thought for sure you'd have that little guest with you as well, fool," the ringmaster replied.
"I really wanted to bring them, but they looked so cute when they were asleep that I couldn't bring myself to do it. I did invite them back, though." He leaned onto the ringmaster's shoulder from behind. "Do you think they'll come again?" he pouted.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure they will." The ringmaster gave a small pat to his head, which made a small honking noise. "Now go put those underwear back."
"What? I didn't even show you them yet…"
"Yes, but I know how your mind works.
—
The sound of your alarm going off woke you up from your slumber, "holy that was the most realist dream I think I ever…" at the foot of your bed was something that could be considered a bouquet of balloons shaped like a heart in the middle was a ticket. "had.."
almost immediately, you got up and ran into the bathroom, you opened your mouth tongue fully green, "huh…" maybe you should go back to the circus...
reader interviewing ice hockey player Percy except he’s lowk in love with them!
percy’s journalist
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
summary: percy can’t stop admiring his favourite journalist
a/n: eeek! i love this! had to take a break from my essays for this 💘💘 might add to this/ make a part 2 so keep your eyes peeled!!
warnings: none! fluff hehehe
˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ
“hey, percy.” you smiled as you walked up to the sweaty, breathless hockey player, opening up your notepad and clicking your pen.
“helloo, gorgeous.” percy drawled as he stretched out his legs, still in his ice hockey kit, he ran a hand through his hair. “y’see me?” he grinned.
“i did.” you chuckled as you sat yourself down next to him. he shamelessly (or subconsciously) checked you out. you readied your pen to begin writing, but you paused. “why are you looking at me like that?” you chuckled.
“like what?” percy smirked back.
“i don’t know- whatever-” you shook your head with a small laugh, looking back down at your paper, you readied your pen once more. “alright, let’s just get the interview done.”
“why? you wanna get rid of me already?” he teased lightly, those sea green eyes sparkling with mischief and a little of something else you couldn’t quite place.
“oh, shut up.” you sighed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “right. so in the first half,” you looked up to meet his gaze, “grace and you seemed to have a little bit of a… well, a shouting match. what can you tell me about that?”
percy groaned. “jason is one of my best friends- i love the guy- he was just being a jackass, wasn’t passing or nothing.” he shook his head and crossed his arms as he spoke about his teammate. you wrote it all down. “your hair looks pretty today.” percy noted, causing you to look up.
you chuckled softly and touched your hair subconsciously. “hm? thanks.” you smiled.
“yeah, you always look pretty.” percy crossed his arms and manspread, a genuine smile played on his own lips.
“shut up.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “next question…” you murmured as you flipped through your notes, seemingly lost in where the rest of your questions were.
then, to your surprise, percy reached out a tanned, calloused hand to take your small notebook. “c’mon.” he tilted his head to the side. “why do we need to have scripted conversation, hm?” he closed your notes and placed it on his other side.
“uhm, maybe because it’s my job, percy?” you raised an eyebrow with a small laugh.
“whatever, i’ll give you all the answers you need after. i wanna talk to you.” percy nudged your knee with his. “not journalist you.”
you looked at him for a few moments, as if trying to decipher what he wanted. “fine.” you relaxed into your seat with a little smile. “what do you want to talk about?”
“you.”
“me?”
“yes, you. i always want to talk about you.” he smirked.
you were speechless for a few moments. what? “you want to talk about me.” you had meant it to sound like a question but it came out like a statement.
“beautiful? i’ve known you for- what? 3 years?” percy unfolded his arms and bounced his knee. “you’ve interviewed me, like, 30 times.” he sighed. “you gotta give me something. i wanna know you.” he confessed.
you blinked.
then you blinked again.
“you want to know me.” you were once again blindsided.
the ice hockey player let out a little laugh. “you gonna keep repeating everything i say?” he shook his head in amusement. “yeah, i do.”
what in hades?
you could feel a blush creeping across your face. you didn’t know what to say.
“c’mon…” percy’s expression turner sheepish. “i’m not that bad, am i?”
huh?!
“oh- percy-” you laughed. “no, not bad at all!” you rushed to say. “i just can’t quite grasp the notion you want to speak with me and not the journalist who always bigs you up in her articles.”
“trust me, i wanna talk to her too.” percy grinned. “but i wanna talk to you too… let me take you out. please.” he beseeched as he leaned in, his gaze searching yours in an almost reverent manner.
he didn’t have to ask you twice!
“yes.” you said simply before realising how dumb you sounded. “sure, i will.” you smiled so sweetly.
“perfect.” percy nodded with a relieved smile and twinkle in his eye.
“i’m going to need my notepad though.” you giggled softly, the two of you never broke eye contact.
“mm, yeah sure.” percy simply took your pen from your hand and flipped open the paper and began to scribble something down. “think you’ll need this too.” he grinned.
he held out the notepad, his number was scrawled down with a little doodle beneath. a hockey stick and a notebook. and percy looked rather pleased with himself, too.
you bit your lip and nodded. “back to questions?” you revealed your teeth in a pleased smile.
“anything you want, gorgeous.” percy murmured as he studied colours in your eyes with an expression that could only be described as ‘moonstruck’.
a/n: Guess. Who's. Back. ME! Hehehe ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) This chapter is a build-up! Not much, Caine, once again, my apologies! But the next one WILL, IN FACT, be from his point of view ~ I do hope you enjoy, and I also hope... y'all are okie with Jax taking a majority of this chapter, BUT I HAVE REASONS! And I'd like to hear your thoughts on this, since I'm thinking about some stuff. Also, should we add quite some angst? Hurhurhur, but if not, we can minimize it. I love writing for you guys, so I don't mind any option ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Synopsis: You thought sitting might've been what you needed, but others think otherwise. You remain hesitant to trust the strangers you find in your situation; however, what if a friend is what you need?
You had been sitting on the floor for the past–… How does time work in here?
Well, either way, staring down the black and white tiled floor was messing with your eyesight, becoming warped, moving up and down, almost like water, no, like liquid mercury, your reflection distorting the longer you look. That… was now your image, something you knew wasn’t truly yours. Your hair, your eyes, face, and everything, it is not there, not what you knew once was. Was your heart? Moving a hand to your chest, you let it rest there for a moment, attempting to discern something, anything that was at least familiar.
Letting out a breath and taking one in, you stay still, concentrating.
“What are you doing?” A voice interrupts you.
Jumping, you grasp your new clothing. Frightened by the sudden intrusion.
Turning your head around, you see a pair of legs in red clad, moving your head upwards, seeing the tall purple rabbit leaning over you, with yellow gloved hands at his hips. His permanent smile was wavering, a raised brow as he eyed you back.
Lips becoming a thin line, you breathe normally once again, gulping down the saliva that was stuck in your throat. And for a moment, it’s as though you had forgotten to speak, mind going blank when you tried to come up with a response.
He leans backwards, standing upright with a concerned expression, but only for a second, quickly changing to a careless leaned back pose, hands crossed over each other with a bored look.
“You’re not much of a talker, huh?” He clicks his tongue.
Fumbling with your hands, you shake your head, embarrassed that you couldn’t communicate at the moment. Assuming that he’d move away, you look back at the tiled floor, your finger tracing one of the patterns.
Instead, though, he throws his bottom onto the floor, crossing his legs just as you, a bit at arm's length, almost as if he was making sure not to get too close. Your eyes widened, staggered that someone with such an introduction as his was joining you when in mourning for your life outside the place. He turns his head towards you, the same grin you had met him with returning.
“Flies are gonna enter your yap if you keep it open like that.” He points at your mouth.
Letting out an awkward sound, you close it with your hand, a cartoonish expression that replicates a river of tears with closed eyes as you move your head forward.
“Sorry. It’s–... not really expected.”
Waving his hand around, he lets out a chuckle. A common action, as you’ve perceived.
“No grudges here. That’s me being me after all, and surprises are involved in that.”
You didn’t want to stare at him. It was all too awkward, and along with that, you were yet to be comfortable with gazing at these 3D cartoon life-like objects and people.
“I guess you could say that about everyone, no?”
Deciding to try, you responded to the purple fellow who had surprisingly chosen to sit with you.
And, with a better knowing tone, almost tired like, he answers, “And, even then, someone will always find an issue with it.”
He must be thinking of a certain someone.
You had to wonder, why did he join you? While you could tell he was not the most well-sought-after, you’re sure within his stay, he’s made one friend… right? Oh, boy. You can only hope this interaction goes nicely; even in a short amount of time, you can tell you wouldn’t want to be on this guy’s bad side. He seems… like a grade A asshole.
In reply, you nodded, letting him guide the conversation.
Setting his elbow on his knee, the man tilts his head in curiosity, eyes squinting as he inspects you, shamefully.
“So, ya sure don’t remember why ya got here? It took me only hours to know my reason. I think–” He knocks on your head, inexpectantly, you move yourself away, and give him a slight glare. “We just gotta dig in a bit harder, friend?”
Oh, yeah, he’s scheming. You could almost see a mini version of him rubbing his damn gloved hands together. How bugging.
Softening your glare, you hum. “I have been giving it more thought… I think I was here for somebody.”
No, you were positive that’s why you were here.
In the name of what? You had no clue.
“‘Somebody’, huh? For what, like some date at an abandoned building? What a crappy suggestion, where’s the romance in that?” He shakes his head disapprovingly.
Letting out a pathetic laugh, you shake your head along with him.
“No, no! I swear, I have standards, man.”
“Don’t seem like it to me, sweetheart.” He grins.
You smack his shoulder, lightly. Disgruntled people with a facade like his are risky to befriend; at times, they can play a certain part far too good. You hunch over your hands, head lowered as you consider again the reasoning. Playing with the edge of your outfit.
“All I know for sure is that… I cared, I cared deeply.” You whisper.
Sensing him peeking at you, you turned slowly towards him, staring at one another.
“You cared?”
“Yes…” You shake your head in agreement. “I cared very much.” You look away, moving your hand towards where your heart would be.
He stayed silent.
“It may sound… dumb. It probably is the more I think about it, but even so… there’s this feeling in me that I now realize more and more as my arrival grows.” You begin thumping your knee with your finger.
Why are you opening like this? You grind your teeth in shame.
You sigh. ”I’m sorry, it’s stupid–”
“No. It’s fine, you apologize too dang much anyway. Relax, you’re gonna end up losing your mind if you continue to act like that.” The purple rabbit changes his pose, hands folding together in between his legs.
He was advising you, or perhaps, warning. Either way, you were grateful he didn’t ridicule you as he did with the others.
“Thank you.” You give him a small smile.
He rolled his eyes, grinning. “A welcome gift of mine.”
“How cordial of you.” You joked.
He shrugs, throwing his hands back. “Somebody has to be!”
“True, true.” You both giggle.
“Seems like you two are getting along.” A deep voice joined the conversation.
Turning to the side, you look at a colorful form walking closer to you both.
“I’m gonna warn you once, he’s a son of a b██.” They point at the male next to you.
He rolled his eyes, huffing.
“Nice to see you too, Zooble.”
“Jax.” They spoke with spite.
You couldn’t lie; you had forgotten nearly everyone’s name, except Kinger’s. You sweatdropped in silence, looking at the fourth wall.
“Y’know, you can’t go around being disrespectful like that; it makes you come off as unpleasant. You’re just putting our beloved new roomie in an uncomfortable situation! What a d█k move if you ask me.” He said, placing an arm around your shoulders, leaning you closely to him.
There was nothing you could truly add on, but you were, in fact, uneasy. You wondered if Zooble had barely walked in, missing out on a surprising side of him.
Were you perhaps being naive? Or easily influenced? Are you being careless or too careful?
“Oh, please. You’re the walking personification of everything unpleasant. Why don’t you stop bothering everyone, dude? Stop playing like you did with Pomni.”
You screamed on the inside, wanting to be anywhere else but here; however, you cannot literally leave this place! What horrible luck you have.
F██k, someone, anyone, please…
Are my thoughts seriously f██king censored too?!
You felt his grip grow strong for a moment on your shoulder, as he pulled you closer, deeper into the situation. This reminded you of a divorce fight.
“God, you guys seriously can’t let anything go? Maybe Caine’s next adventure should be how to mind one’s business, huh? Say, where did he place the suggestion box, again?”
Caine.
Caine.
Caine…
Who is Caine?
Drumroll. You three look up.
“Did somebody…” A swift frame comes up in your view from afar.
The lights turn off, completely entrapting you all in darkness. Light only the center in front of you.
His body hovering, defying gravity, defying all forms of the physical human essence. The head is mainly an example of this.
Finally, looking away from the ceiling, he gazes upon the three of you.
“... call?”
The ringmaster places his head back on the top of his supposed head. Green and blue pupils are focusing on you.
a/n: hi shugs! My apologies for the wait, it seems that I am in my 9th week of school and have 6 weeks left, usually, and unfortunately, these are around the times I get busy due to projects/essays. My school is just like that (╥﹏╥) But I will try my best to update weekly. Anyways! What are you thoughts on this? hehehehehe, I hope you enjoyed it even if there was nearly no Caine!
Hey! You wanna read more of my works like this? Try reading these:
𖦹 𝜗𝜚 ENIAC ( Caine x Human! Reader) PT.1: You're insecure? Don't know what for. He firmly believes you to be the embodiment of love. ♱
𖦹 𝜗☁︎𝜚 ENIAC (Caine x Human! Reader) PT.2: He can solve nearly all the problems, but why can't he find the perfect solution for you and him? ♱
Along with the other parts and works with Caine! ♱
synopsis: your break in to the DX garage goes…well?
a/n: this was so silly anon (i love the girl on tiktok too) that i had to freaking write this 😼 hope u enjoy!
tw: idk i’m half asleep but was struck by random motivation
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Curiosity killed the cat was a phrase that many people had used to describe you.
Not entirely wrong (aside from you being alive).
Yet your curiosity did lead you to many odd places, such as store rooms in supermarkets, or to the teachers lounge at your school (both of which you were kicked out of).
Today, your curiosity lead you somewhere new — the local DX.
While you went for a walk, you spotted the gas station and crossed the road immediately. You been there before sure, but the garage door had never been open. God, it was like Tantalus’s fruit, only you had the free will.
You pushed through the door that was propped open and began looking about.
It was pretty big, with tool kits on shelves and tires neatly stacked about. You wandered, fiddling with tools and even putting a random cap on your head.
Your exploring distracted you so much, that you didn’t even notice there was someone else on the garage. Not entirely your fault though.
The person underneath one of the cars didn’t notice you either, until you picked up and used an electric screw driver.
“Soda?”
You jumped at the voice, dropping the tool onto your foot and letting out a yelp of pain, followed by a few curse words.
As you did that, the person slid out from underneath the car, giving you an annoyed look.
“Who’re you? Why’re you here?”
By golly gee, was this boy exactly your type! Trying to play it off nonchalantly, you shrugged and sheepishly smiled at the irritated but pretty boy in front of you. “I was curious…Can I spin around on your wheelie bed thingy?”
“No. It’s called a creeper. And you’re wearing my hat.”
“Oh! Right, sorry.” You replied, having forgot about the DX cap. You placed it on the workbench, besides a notebook. You picked up the pencil and started doodling silly things in the margins.
“How old are ya? Look a little young to be working as a mechanic.”
The boy, whose name tag read Steve, didn’t stop scowling at you.
“Gee, sorry. Didn’t mean for ya to take offense, Steve.” You apologized, holding your hands up in surrender.
His expression switched to one of confusion. “How do ya know my name?”
“Name tag, Steveo.”
He huffed. “Dont call me that.”
“Stevie!”
“No.”
“Steven?” Judging by his unimpressed look, you stopped before ‘Stevester’ or ‘Stevarino’.
After a long moment of silence Steve finally initiated conversation. “What’s your name?”
You gave it to him with a flash grin. “Why? Wanna take me out?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows at him.
“No.” Steve scowled, crossing his arms and pretending not to be enticed by your odd behavior. “Common curtesy. And to put you on the ‘banned’ list.”
You gave him an over the top pout, dropping the pencil and migrating to the door.
“That’d be a shame, Stevie. You’d miss this beautiful face!”
He gave you an unimpressed look, moving to shut the door behind you.
“Bye Steve!” You hummed, dragging out the vowels.
Steve grunted a goodbye, closing the door to the garage.
The scowl melted from his face into a look of disbelief of the shamelessness you possessed. The boy moved to the work bench you’d sat at moments ago, his eyes scanning the drawings beside his messy notes.
There was a car talking to a cat mechanic with the name tag ‘Steve’. He wanted to scowl but he couldn’t. How had you come in here and talked non stop, but still grasped his attention in a somewhat positive manner?
Steve huffed again, before his eyes caught something you’d written.
A set of numbers.
God, why was he smiling? He was so distracted by your writing that he didn’t hear Soda enter.
“Oooo, Stevie’s got a crush!”
His friend’s comment made his face grown so warm, he might’ve exploded.
