Tumgik
#moons bout to knock away that coffee
silvermizuki · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Decided to doodle my sona as yn as I was listenin to chp 8 of @bamsara‘s SL fic tonight o/
127 notes · View notes
nctsplug02 · 11 months
Note
mark lee smut wherein he's a soft dom who praises you for studying hard for your final exams. (also can you please add a sweet gesture). i sorta feel he's that type. thank you!
[10:46PM]
GENRE: fluff and smut | bad boy!mark + nerdy!reader.
WARNINGS: overworked reader, both protected and unprotected sex, condom usage, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, praising, cum eating, and kissing!
Tumblr media
“wake up for me, baby.” your eyes weakly blink open when feeling soft kisses being pressed on your face.
your hair gets tucked behind your ear. “wake up, baby. cmon.” you grin when feeling your boyfriend slide his hands between your thighs.
“there’s that’s smile. i know you’re awake, baby.” you softly laugh and sigh, opening your eyes and seeing your boyfriend hovering above you.
your eyes fall onto your assignments and laptop on the coffee table in front of you, mark must’ve moved them aside.
“study till you knocked out, again?” you bite your lip and nod. “what’d i tell you ‘bout that?”
“i know and i’m sorry, mark. i just want to,” you sigh. “to get the assignment over with.” you shrug and frown.
mark licks his lips and presses another kiss on your forehead. “you’ve done all your best, baby. you need to give yourself a break, okay?”
you nod. “i know.”
“you’re an A plus college student, part time worker at a restaurant and full time nerd.” you scowl and look to the side while mark chuckles.
“i’m kiddinggg, baby!” mark drags it out and giggles.
he falls next to you and pulls on your thighs. “c’mere, baby.” you whine and toss your leg over his.
“you need some time away from studying.” he plays with your hair and twirls the soft lock around his finger.
“wanna go out tomorrow?” you bite your lip and him. “depends on where.” mark copies you but instead of biting his lip, he pouts and hums. “wherever you want to go, baby. i’ll take you wherever and whenever you wanna go.”
you smile and run your hands up his chest. “let’s..” you stretch and sigh. “hm. let’s go eat out tomorrow morning at the new restaurant that opened just down the street. i thinks it’s called moon.. moon— i don’t know but i looked at the menu and it looks delicious! i really want to try the food!”
“mhm, and what else, baby?” mark runs his hands down your hips and thighs. “after breakfast.. maybe we can go to the mall?”
mark bites his lips. “ya’ gonna get some new pretty sets?” you shrug and feel your cheeks heat up. “mm, maybe. maybe i’ll let you pick some out for me and i’ll give you a fashion show, hm?” mark groans and tosses his head back, his hands gripping tighter around your hips.
“what else, baby. tell me more.” mark practically begs.
“i’ll give you a little lap dance with the sets you picked out and i’ll maybe show you how we’ll they fit snuggly around my hips and my breasts.”
marks hands slide under your sweatshirt and under your bra. your bra slips over your breasts and he cups them. “fuck, baby!” mark groans and hisses when feeling your hard nipples.
“show me, baby. i wanna see a little demonstration.”
awhh, how you can’t say no to those precious beady eyes.
you giggle a little before ripping off your shirt and tossing it behind you. mark groans, again when seeing your tits bounce from your sweatshirt being slightly caught under your breasts.
slowly, you slip off of marks lap and you stand, slightly bent over just so your lips touch the shell of marks ear. “sit here like a good boy for me, baby.” you whisper.
before you stand straight, you slip your thumbs under the waist band of your gray shorts and you drag them down your legs until they pool around your feet.
“jesus, y/n.” mark whimpers under his breath and tosses his head back.
“look at me, mark. watch me.” mark brings his eyes to you and looks you up and down, slowly his mouth fills with drool.
your hand reaches back and your bra becomes undone. a small relieved sigh soothes out your nose when feeling the free feeling of your breasts being bra-less.
“n—no— no, stop,” you cross your arms and tilt your head. “no, baby. no— this is supposed to be about you, y/n.”
mark sits up and grabs your hand, softly rubbing circles on the back of your hand and sighing.
“i’m.. i’m work-free.. i’m not so stressed like you are with exams— let me take care of you tonight, baby.” you open your mouth to protest but mark yanks you on his lap. “please, baby.”
you bite your lip and sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from his pleading beady eyes. “okay, you can take care of me— only because i really am stressed and i really need your care taking right now.”
mark hugs you tightly and buries his face into your breasts. “i love you, baby.” he presses a loud kiss and pulls away.
“let me take care of you.” mark whispers and stands, his hands cupping your ass and making sure you’re secured and safe.
mark walks to the bedroom and kicks open the door, when near the bed, he lays you down softly. “you’re the most precious thing in the world.” mark says to you and presses a kiss on your nose as you giggle.
“cmon, mark.” you say with a hint of impatience.. as if you and mark didn’t have a quickie before he went out to play basketball with chenle who was growing impatient and spamming mark with missed calls and texts.
“i wanna take my time, baby. what’s the rush? we have all night, my love.” you nod and press your lips together.
mark softly laughs and sits up straight so that he isn’t hovering you so closely, he then reaches and flicks the lamp on so it’s on a dim level, just enough light to see each other. mark rips off his hoodie and pulls down his joggers, his boxers slightly following the joggers.
“fuck,” mark hisses at the aching pain in his cock that died to be touched.
mark shakes his head and clears his throat. he continues to undress himself from head to toe and when he reaches his glasses you sit up.
“no, keep them on.”
“but—“
your hand goes to his hand. “please.”
mark nods and pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge.
your eyes fall onto marks cock, his cock twitches and leans with precum. “mark, can i—?” you point to his dick but he shakes his head.
“tonight’s about you, remember.”
“but—“
mark leans closer and smiles. “just you tonight, baby. all you.”
“okay,” you nod.
mark grabs your thighs and yanks you until you’re flat on your back and your thighs are apart.
“so pretty..” mark mutters under his breath while looking down at your cunt as if it was treasure. “god.” mark runs his thumb down your slit.
you gasp lightly and your legs slightly move together. “nuh-uh, baby. keep’em open.” mark says as he gently pushes them back apart.
“m—mark.. this is embarrassing.” you say and then gasp when feeling mark slip his fingers into you. “what is?” your jaw is dropped but nothing comes out, instead you shake your head.
your eyes slowly shut when feeling pleasure take over your embarrassment. “oh, god, mark.” you softly hiccup gasps.
marks fingers still for a moment and then your eyes go wide.
“fuck!” you cry out and slightly sit up when feeling marks tongue on your clit.
you look down to see mark focused on your clit. his tongue lapping your juice and folds. mark squeezes his eyes shut when feeling your hand mess with his hair.
his fingers squeezing through your gummy walls, scissoring in and out, using his tongue to flick your clit.
“oh, mark.” you gasp, arching your back off the bed and digging your hips more into the mattress.
you could feel marks lips form into a smile when hearing your moans for him. your moans were absolute music to his ears.
the pleasure becomes overwhelming; his fingers thrusting in you while his tongue teases your clit.
your orgasm comes crashing on you within seconds. your moans fill up the moan and marks groans and giggles follow along.
mark pulls away— making sure he gives a good last nibble on your clit.
you whine at the sudden loss of being filled. “mmark,” you jut your lips and sit up.
“hmm?” he hums.
“you taste so fucking sweet.” mark groans while suckin’ on his fingers that were coated in your cum.
your eyes move to his shoulder which oddly flexes repeatedly. then your eyes trail down to see mark giving himself a few jerks.
mark reaches over you and opens the bottom drawer to his nightstand, he digs around until finally you hear a wrapper sound.
mark stands back on his knees and tears the corner of the condom wrapper.
your cunt drips from the sight of mark just sliding the condom on his cock.
“awh,” you whimper and shut your eyes. your pussy clenches around nothing but your fingers find your clit.
“nuh, uh.” mark grabs your hand and pushes you back onto your back. “mark!” you whine and he pushes your legs apart.
“what’s wrong, baby? you don’t want my dick?” you shake your head. “i do! i do!” you’re ashamed with how quick you answer.
mark chuckles and grabs your legs, he stacks your calves on his thighs and uses his cock to tease the entrance of your pussy.
“st—stop teasin’— oh!” you gasp as mark slips into you. with such ease. “what were you saying now?” you shake your head, pressing your lips together as you attempt to hide your whimpers.
“lemme hear you, baby.” mark says, burying himself more into you.
your jaw drops and moans spill out. “‘s right, baby. you sound so pretty.. so fucking pretty.” mark growls lowly and kisses you roughly.
you let out a small squeak when marks gold chain that you got him for your two year anniversary, smacks your chin.
“you feel so good, y/n.” mark whispers against your lips. “so fucking good.”
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
your eyes widen at the sudden alarm going off. mark stills and sighs, he reaches above you and presses ‘stop’ on your screen.
“m—mark, that’s my alarm— it—it’s a reminder to finish my summative project due for criminal justice class.”
“baby,” mark frowns. “can we put school work side? i mean, get that it’s finals but baby, you’re overworking yourself and it.. it sucks. i hate seeing you all worked up over these finals— why’d you have to pick the hardest classes?”
you laugh.
“im serious, babe.”
“okay, im sorry,” for laughing at least.
mark clenches his jaw and digs his nails into your hips, a whine breaks from your throat. you then gasp when mark pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach.
doggy style— marks favorite position.
mark yanks your hips up and props you on your knees and chest. “ma—mark—?!” mark spanks you and you jerk forward but mark quickly yanks your hips back into his cock is rammed into your cunt.
“shut up.” he says.
cries fill up the room as mark fills you up perfectly and repeatedly. “o—ooh, god!” mark tangles his fingers in your hair and he pulls your head back.
your eyes find marks angry face before shutting for a swift moment.
your heavy head drops and your body falls limp as marks tip fucks you in the right places.
“ya’gonna listen to me, baby?” mark says.
“ya’gonna be a good girl and listen to me, baby?” you nod, softly humming. “good.. good,” mark says lowly and brushes the hair out of your hair, gathering all your sweaty locks and pushing the to one side.
mark leans closer but continues to rock his hips against yours. “don’t wanna see you overworking yourself, again, alright?” you nod, barely processing what he’s just said.
“you’re so good for me, baby.” he coos. “look at my little nerd.. so worried about her classes that she isn’t focused on me fucking her like the princess pillow she is.” mark plants a kiss on your shoulder.
“maarrkk,” you whine, trying not to laugh at marks praises.
“what, hm? my pretty little baby gettin’ shy?” mark chuckles, “i love you a lot, y/n. a lot, a lot.” a smile breaks on your face. “i love you, too.” you whisper back. “a lot, a lot.”
“i love seeing how hardworking you are, how determined you are so get things done by the minute. it makes me the proudest boyfriend ever.” you could hear the smiles on marks face— you could even see it from behind.
mark nibbles on your neck and presses a kiss on the spot he’d just nibbled on. “i’m so proud of you, baby. so proud.” he whispers the last line softly.
“m—mark?” you whisper swiftly.
“mhm?” mark hums softly and runs his hands over your curves and soft skin.
embarrassment rushes over you before you can even ask your question. “can you c—cum.. in me?”
a bubble of excitement pops in mark and he pushes himself back into his knees so he isn’t limp over your back.
“want me to cum in ya, baby?” you nod, whimpering as you do. “use your words, baby. ask it, again for me.” you chew on your bottom lip.
“can you please.. please cum in me, mark?” mark groans and leans forward, taking a bite from your shoulder. “that’d be a fucking honor to, baby.”
mark slips out of you and strips off the condom, he tosses it aside and slowly slips back into you. the two of you moan together, harmonizing.
“this feels so much better,” mark sighs. “doesn’t it, baby?” mark reads your expression from your side profile. “s—soo much better.” your eyes rolled back and a lazy grin on your face.
mark rocks his hips and starts off slow. and by the second, his pace picks up and his skin slaps against yours.
“give it to me, mark. please, i deserve it.” you plead desperately. “i’ve worked hard, mark, please.”
with your desperate pleads, it doesn’t take mark long until he releases his load into you.
mark pulls out after a few seconds and ejaculates the rest on your ass. with low and whiny groans, mark sits back on his feet and huffs and puffs.
mark holds his cock by the base in one hand and with his free hand, he smacks another handprint on your ass. you don’t even react, too busy recovering from your orgasm.
“geez, baby.” mark sighs and scoops a line of cum onto his finger pads, he turns you over and sticks his fingers on your tongue and down your throat.
you moan around his digits and mark watches with a slightly dropped jaw.
mark pulls his fingers away from your mouth and cups your face, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. the salty bitter reaches marks taste buds and mark groans, pulling away with a slightly disgusted face.
“did i.. do good, mark?” mark runs his thumb over your bottom lip and he smiles. “you did more than good, baby. you did amazing.” mark gives you another kiss and sighs.
“would you prefer a shower or a bath?” mark asks.
you sigh, “i’m worn out,” you toss your arm over your forehead. “let’s just take a quick shower, yeah?” mark nods. “whatever you want, baby.”
you giggle when mark picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.
let’s just say, you never studied until you passed out, again.
or did you?
1K notes · View notes
avirxy · 2 years
Note
the way I want to ask you about all of your wips ksajdhfkjsadf the titles all sound so interesting!!! But hmmm I suppose I will go with My what sharp teeth you have
Oh god don’t get me started, I’d ramble about each and every one of these au’s for hours it’d drive you absolutely nuts.
This one is basically a revamped au of another au, because I’ve gone and turned it into a multi chapter instead of just one. Instead of trolls it’s monsters.
And for context Claire got bit by the monster they were hunting and didn’t tell them. Most of the group end up as something other than human or human adjacent by the end, except Douxie he’s been something for a very long time haha.
He stares at the lump of sheets, pillows and blankets, hoping it’ll give any indication it’s awake, let alone alive because she hasn’t moved at all. Taking up the middle of Blinky and Aaarrrgghh’s king sized bed.
“Anything?” Toby asks quietly, his voice worn and shaky as he enters the dark room.
Jim shakes his head. “Blinky said to let her rest.”
“Is she gonna sleep the whole day away?” Toby tries to joke but it falls flat, there is something seriously wrong with their friend and they both know it.
And recently, but also concededly seems to worsen in turn with the oncoming full moon.
It was the little things over the past month, ever since they’d went on that failed mission, lost their target and it ended with Claire limping behind the group in the dark, moonlight accompanying them.
Claiming she must have pulled something in her leg.
Darci said she’d almost punched Shannon in the face for bumping into her on accident in the hallway. Mary kept complaining that the flash on her phone was repeatedly messing up their pictures becasue it’d make her best friends eyes look all reflective and glowy.
It was the frequent undeniable, unexplainable bouts of anger.
Toby almost lost his head in the forge during training a week ago.
“Hey! I didn’t mean to trip you!” He shrieked as he threw his hands up and Claire just seethed at him like she wanted to tear him in two.
It was unsettling, frankly.
Two days prior to their current debacle is when things took a real turn. She wouldn’t even so much as open her mouth to speak, Toby formally dubbed it the silent treatment. Jim got the feeling it was something more.
They’d been at Blinky and Aaarrrgghh’s house that afternoon and she’d disappeared from the living room for almost an hour. Jim and Toby went searching for her after just twenty minutes. Jim was the one who’d found her.
He’d heard the sink running in the bathroom, the splash of water and sound of wet droplets hitting the tile.
Jim hesitantly knocked and the bathroom went silent, she opened the door moments later and claimed she needed to go.
Giving some bumbling, half baked excuse, homework.
But he’d treaded back into the bathroom minutes later after she left, just to be sure. Jim felt his body go cold as he stood in the small room. There was blood, most of it had been cleaned up, hidden but it was there, smudged along the edge of the sink.
Jim couldn’t figure out why until he saw her again. She’d been avoiding them all day at school.
It was her teeth.
Which is frankly weird to say, but that’s what finally stamped out any indication this could be anything else. The stress of school or she’d ignored Blinky’s advice and been overusing her staff.
The guy at the coffee shop, Douxie? was that his name, had sharp teeth too, his irises just a tad too red in certain shades of daylight.
But this was different.
The way they caught in the light when she spoke, or that time she’d kissed him, the sharp edges grazing against his lower lip and causing blood to welt up. He’d drawn back a bit confused but nothingness tried to assure he was fine.
And as he stared at her horrified expression did Jim realize two things.
Claire’s teeth weren’t human, which meant neither was she, not anymore.
27 notes · View notes
monsoonblooms12 · 3 years
Text
Detectives by Chance: Chapter 8- The Final Bow
Tumblr media
Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?
A/N: This is the end. The end of the first ever series, the first ever fanfics I ever wrote. It's melancholic you know? Bidding adieu to Open Heart and Detectives by Chance all at one? Anywho, I hope you enjoy this piece💕
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)
Rating: Teen (to be safe)
Warnings: Blood, Murder, Swear Words, Gun Violence
I would recommend reading the previous parts first, because I am sure this makes little sense without knowing what happened previously.
Read the previous chapters here!
Tumblr media
The trail from the crumpled door to the back ground felt likes hours of navigating through the blazing desert, no one in sight.
The scarlet memoirs of the wounds that now covered her skin did not give her much relief either. Blood soaked into her shirt, colouring it red from cream at a steady rate. Lazy tracks formed as solitary drops slipped down to meet the ground.
Papers clutched with a death grip, her resolve did not waver. After all the goose chase she had done in the manor, she was sure she could do this. But then again, there was not much of a choice there.
Ethan's POV:
A hazy screen appeared before his orbs as they slowly, timidly, fluttered open, as if scared to look around. A blackness had spread around him, and his mind could not make out if it was a musty old dungeon or some place else.
Soft scents of the intoxicating vanilla and bluebell perfume gently let him know of their presence, and he sighed in relief.
Wherever he was, he was close to her.
And with that knowledge came a subtle sense of calm, a realization that as long as he was near her, he wouldn't mind even dying.
He just wanted her, his strength, with him.
He tried to get up, and the wince of pain came almost immediately. His legs ached due to the cramped position in the short space of wherever. As he managed to pull himself up from the sleeping position, a very faint jingle of keys could be heard in the background of his groans.
Then with a click, the front door flew open and he unclearly made out a thud of some kind of folder in the front passenger seat. Soon the driver's seat was occupied as well, and the engine was raved to life.
The scent of vanilla and bluebell grew strong and he knew it was her.
"Pooja?" He whispered so lightly that for a second he wondered if he had even spoken it aloud.
"Ethan! Oh thank fucking god you are- Ah!" She was cutoff mid sentence by a horrifying but muted shriek which had escaped as she tried to close the door.
"Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" Worry laced his tone as her other hand painfully completed the supposedly easy task.
"You are okay and I've everything we need to save Lex & Mark. That's all that matters, E."
"What about you?"
But her attention had already shifted to the driving the automobile. She had always been like that, too unconcerned about herself. As well as he knew her, he was sure she had been biting her lip a tad bit harder with every moment just to keep painful screams at bay.
"It doesn't matter."
A shrill roar suddenly invaded the eerie, uncomfortable silence of the abandoned area. The voice was human, but the intensity of the sound reminded them more of an enraged tiger trapped in a cage, ready to pounce at the chance of freedom.
Staying here for a second more could be a dangerous idea.
A slow pain spread though his forehead, an after-effect of whatever that was forcefully injected during his investigation of the murky place, too dishevelled to call it even an office, let alone a hospital. The ache became all-too-consuming, his struggle to keep his eyes open turning futile. The blackness grasped him steadily as consciousness bid adieu and the dangers of the world in front of him, at bay.
End of Ethan's POV
Pooja's clutch on the steering wheel was so hard that the fingernails that dug into its material left deep moon shaped indents, as a mark of their visit. The teeth pressed so deep into her lip that it had drawn blood. The gap of the missing tooth felt like an aftermath of the reckless rescue operations she had led at the building.
Why did her mind refused to cooperate with her now, when she had finally made her way out?
Another line of thought began to form, but before it spread it's being, a second horrifying scream broke through the audible silence like a dagger.
Sweat of hardwork was now the cold sweat of fear. A sense of great danger that lingered now completely flooded every chamber of her heart & she refused to stop.
Digging her teeth into her lips, tears streaming as every movement made her want to shriek and wail in agony, she revved the engine, turned the steering & fled out of there.
————————————
A rash drive followed. She sped through the roads, going straight without a turn until she was sure the they were not being followed.
A safe distance away, she stopped. Every moment was precious now, but she was done. She could not do this anymore.
Hell, she could not do anything anymore.
The left portion of her shirt that she wore was now soaked in scarlet, the stench of blood growing on her. She doubted that if she wasn't a doctor, she would have thrown up or passed out by now.
Pooja looked behind, the scarce daylight making it a difficult job to be done. She was quite sure that Ethan had been overcome by another bout of unconsciousness and the feeling of helplessness spread through her chest, forming a hollow through its path.
Her head felt light too. The injuries were starting to show effects, although the overwhelming sense of failure and danger had already numbed their pain.
Taking a deep breath, and another, and another, she tried to centre herself, though not to much avail.
Something she had realized was now, the necessity to keep moving was a need & not a want.
A slow kick on the gas pedal & she carried on her journey to the final destination.
————————————
At the police station, the unfolding of events occurred like a film sequence set on fast forward.
Pooja had barely made it there, an urgency ringing through her mind, a constant worry that she was late, too late. But thankfully, she wasn't.
Dragging her foot (her entire body, at this point) she entered and almost fell face down on the station floor.
Hastily handing over the evidence she had meticulously collected and suffered all the injuries for, she tried to explain what she had found.
Officers repeatedly asked her to calm down, but she refused. The three of them, Ethan, Alex and Mark, They were her family. They always mattered more than her. They always will.
At last, all she managed was to point a finger at her car, before her body gave up on the fight. A small smile of satisfaction decorated her tired, overworked features. It was a win. A well deserved one. A strange sense of pride, overwhelmed her as she slowly faded into unconsciousness.
————————————
It has been 36 hours since the ghastly raid of Miles's manor.
The evidence collected opened a lot of tied knots, the page from Miles's diary, even though muddy, serving priceless for the investigation. Almost everything got crystal clear from it.
Pooja underwent a major surgery, and was still under bedrest. Minor to Major, there were a plethora of injuries that needed to be treated. Recovery was going to take a long time but her response had been up to the mark.
As for Mark and Alex, the court deemed them not guilty for any of the charges made against them & they were released. The very instant they rushed to the hospital, tears streaming down endlessly both in gratitude & in worry.
Miles Danvers, as expected, was not found. The manor was investigated after the release of Mark & Alex, a big mistake, and nothing was left behind except a few beeping machines & broken furniture. The investigators now await Pooja's recovery for interrogation & to close the case as soon as possible because stories of a deranged murderer roaming around the dark streets doesn't exactly spark a rush of serotonin through the citizens.
Meanwhile in a dark, gloomy alleyway:
It had been seconds too long. The man's pace faltered at slightest sounds, fingers fidgeting the two ring that shone under whatever little light reached the area.
Why were they not here yet?
But his wait was cut off soon. Muffled footsteps echoed like, every step closer increasing their intensity. Even though he had been expecting them, his heart leapt up his throat, which tightened in fear.
He turned around, not being able to make out their faces. But at the time, he found it to be a blessing in disguise, because he was sure he would have thrown up from the fright of being the cause of their anger.
A hand extended out, the silver bracelet dangling from it gleaming in moonlight. It gripped the lapel of his coat, and a scared murmur escaped him without caution.
The person on the other side, let out a slow growl of rage, boiling blood coursing through their veins. The man's teeth chattered, the cold pressing against his skin even more as a chill ran down his spine.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, the touch of cold metal against his neck made him shudder.
It was... It was a gun.
"Thi..s, Th..., This w-was not what, w-what we plann-nned upon." He quietly muttered, shocked that sound still escaped through the dryness of his throat.
"What were you supposed to do?" The person, no, the man, That man, growled, the evil of his heart almost visible in the spoken words.
The man stood soundless. It took two hard knocks of the metal to make him speak.
"K-K-Kill"
"And what did you do? Let her escape with a bagful of evidence." The words were being hissed now, with so much intensity that the man was surprised that he hadn't peed his pants yet.
"And since" The gun was displaced and he let out a sigh of relief. "You did such wonderful work, you deserve to be rewarded."
And before the man could even process what just happened, a single shot pierced through the fog settling around, and hit right in the forehead.
Seconds later, his lifeless body met its origin & any sign of life in the alleyway seized to exist.
Tumblr media
End Note: Open Heart ended and it feels unreal. I have had a weird, wonderful journey with it. I would have never come to tumblr, make edits or write fanfics if not for it. It is a series which many of us, me included, hold close to our heart.
Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who provided their precious thoughts over the past chapters of this series. I always have & always will hold Detectives by Chance close to my heart, because it has some of my earliest fanfics & it was the beginning of a wonderful journey for me. So if you took your time & have followed this story from the start, I am so very grateful for you. Thank you❤
With OH ending, many have chosen to continue in this fandom & some have decided to move on. Whatever your decision may be, I hope you be happy & have a good time ahead💕
Detectives by Chance gets a Bonus part, with no relation to the storyline, like not an epilogue, but something that will answer the lingering questions. As for if this is really the end of DbC or not, I will let you guys decide that😉
Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):
Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz
Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010
Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
26 notes · View notes
rvmmm21 · 3 years
Text
[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 04.
Tumblr media
[5:45 p.m.] Washed-out rays of sunshine flood the arcade cafe, and Seungwan can’t contain her flourishing smile at the thought of Bae Joohyun visiting her at work. 
. . . . .
Sometimes I wish I could go and live in the clouds of your fantasies.
Being a part-time barista is a safe-haven for all of hers.
The junior buzzes around behind the counter, systematically preparing orders of cakes and coffees on the tiny overhead order slips. A satisfied hum sounds as she finishes prettying the dessert display and slides the glass window closed.
Cake display, check. 
Watermelon lychee-mint crush, coming up.
She dries her hands after spooning the frozen watermelon chunks into the blender, and the crinkle of her leather apron sounds brand new for some reason. Perhaps it’s because she feels brand new. Either way, her customers seem to pick up on her good mood too, and it blows her usually gruelling shift by like a light summer breeze. The hustle of work-pressed university students scrambling for their sugar rushes and extra shots of caffeine dulls in her ears, the memory of the past three weeks sitting at the very forefront of her thoughts. 
The past three weeks of back and forth texting, weekly study dates and a volantly climbing heart rate– wait no, a steadily building friendship.
About halfway through the afternoon, the regular tempo of her shift suddenly interrupts with a swish of silky hair and an award winning smile. 
“Wow, a barista. Cute and talented, I see. Where do I sign up?”
Seungwan adjusts the straps on her apron, blinking. “Taeyeon sunbaenim?”
“Kidding, kidding,” the girl laughs, holding her hand out as if that would somehow quell the bout of unease that had begun to well in the pit of Seungwan’s stomach. 
Remaining professional, she answers with a nervous laugh of her own. “What can I get for you today, sunbaenim?”
Taeyeon hums, tapping a delicate finger to her chin while she stares down at the fancy little menu. A vague smirk graces pink lips as her fingertip traces the bold laminated print. “Hm, what do your pancakes come with?”
Seungwan leans over the cash register to glaze over the small description underneath and then snaps back up, knowing the ingredients by heart already. “Oh! They’re plain buttermilk, but you can choose your topping! Uh… strawberries and ice cream is– it’s a customer favourite, if you’d like.” 
A hum of deliberation. “I see. And do I get special service?”
“S-Sorry?” The suggestion in her tone chokes the girl, unsure of what that means. 
Taeyeon gracefully giggles and leans over the counter to playfully tap Seungwan on the shoulder. “Yah, you’re too funny. I meant an extra scoop of ice cream. Since we know each other, obviously. Why, what were you thinking?”
“Ah! Of course I can do that for you,” she chuckles awkwardly, keying in the order. Seungwan’s fingers flinch around the Amex Black Card when it doesn’t slip out of Taeyeon’s as easily. Chestnut eyes peek up at her, and from the casual smirk on her face, the older girl seems to know what she’s doing.
“Oh yeah,” her expression contorts as though she’s trying to recall why she’s now holding up a small queue of foot-tapping, huffing customers. “How’s your project going?” 
She answers hastily, eyeing the holdup. “It’s great! Joohyun unnie is really helping me with this class.”
Taeyeon raises a brow. “Unnie?”
“Y-Yeah, Joohyun unnie’s great, can– can I take your card, please?” she reiterates.
“Ah,” the other girl finally nods in realisation, “you two are close friends now. That’s great! I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” The grip on the credit card slackens. “Thank you, Seungwan.”
Seungwan purses her lips, stiffly rocking on her heels as they both wait for the card reader to go ‘beep’. Once Taeyeon walks away, her tension dispels with a heavy sigh and she signals for the next customer.
Softy’s Autumn Morning comes on the set playlist shuffle. Pleasant lo-fi beats ripple through the cafe and Seungwan gently bops along as she works, carefully eyeing the bubbling pancake mix to make sure it doesn’t burn. 
Time seems to slow to a glacial pace. That is, until the little bronze bell chimes and a certain someone walks in. Seungwan recognises that vintage Balenciaga Defile Sport hoodie in a heartbeat. Her legs kick into gear and she rushes over to meet her. Joohyun approaches the counter with her signature gaze of boredom, but hides a laugh behind her sweater paw when she sees the barista almost trip over her own sneakers. 
Five minutes later, said barista is hunched over a small cup of latte, hands steadily crafting two pointy milk ears with the help of a toothpick.
As she pops a little bonus on the saucer in replacement of their standard Lotus Biscoff biscuit, Seungwan wonders where Sooyoung and Jennie are, melting a little at how Joohyun looks so small and harmless without the final duo to complete her killer posse. God, when they're all three together, it gets really hard to not believe she'sthe precious daughter of South Korea's most elusive mafia boss. The rumours have to come from somewhere, right? She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves before serving the mafia daughter sitting by the window.
“Enjoy your coffee, unnie!” she chirps, setting the steaming drink down. Service with a complimentary home baked cookie is her way of saying ‘I think you’re super cool’. 
Totally embarrassed at her dumb little gift, the girl slinks back to her station with sizzling ears before her senior can even thank her.
How cute.
Joohyun’s lips curl into a secret smile at the milk foam cat happily greeting her from her latte.
Tumblr media
. . . . .
[7:45 p.m.] Seulgi whines when she goes to get a Cola from the fridge and finds the door wide open with Yerim chugging milk straight from the carton. Her roommate calmly caps the lid, dutifully ignoring her.
. . . . .
Polystyrene containers of spicy tteokbokki, salmon sashimi, crispy pork mandu as well as skewers of various glazed meats glisten deliciously under warm living room lights. It’s the perfect go-to cheat day feast. 
“Unnie, you’re like those tragic lovers in my dramas,” the youngest blurts, chewing on her Yakult straw. “Literally every one of them. Too dumb to confess and then drowns in their tears at night. You gonna break the cycle or what?”
Shock seizes Seungwan’s expression before she shakes her head at the way this heartless dongsaeng just takes her feelings and tosses them around like a salad. Still, she thinks, there’s no harm in being honest.
“What’s there to confess? We’re just friends."
Seulgi and Yerim exchange a silent look at the neat pile of tteokbokki on Seungwan’s plate. They remembered only a month ago, their friend seemed to have eyes for nothing else. The dish was so tasty she could marry it, apparently. But its charms seem to have worn off; now overshadowed by Joohyun’s endearingly obnoxious laughter and just about everything about her.
"Plus, you know, I doubt Joohyun unnie sees me that way either."
An epiphany strikes Yerim and she slaps her hand on the table, jabbing a restless finger at her shocked dorm mates. “Zenitsu, Zenitsu! Unnie, you’re Zenitsu, I’ve freaking figured it out.”
Confusion colours Seungwan’s face. “Zenits… who?”
“Zenitsu from Demon Slayer.”
“What?”
“That mopey kid.”
“Yerim-ah…” 
“Demon Slayer. Yerimie’s bingeing it right now. Anime on Netflix or something,” Seulgi explains through a mouthful of dumpling, “she won’t shut up about it. God help us there’s a movie out already.”
Curiosity soon has the confused girl peering at her screen, determined to find out what she’s being called. Thank god for YouTube. 
The youngest feels the heat as she watches her unnie’s expression become more and more deadpan with every passing video.
“Yerim. What, exactly, do you see of me in this?” Seungwan threateningly questions, holding up a paused clip of a cartoon boy grovelling at the feet of a pretty girl. She wonders if it’s wrong to want Joohyun to actually have mafia connections now… and if she’d be willing to share them with her for… purposes.
She shrugs defensively. “What? Don’t you think he’s cute?”
"Don't worry Wan, I don't see it either," Seulgi jumps in.
‘Cute’ isn’t quite the term. The blonde nonchalantly brings the chopsticks to her mouth and bites down… onto thin air. Much to the amusement of the two across her. “Hey how’s it going with Sooyoung?” she turns her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged opposite.
Seulgi tuts in reply, dangling a salmon slice in front of her unimpressed roomie. “Stop trying to change the subject, Wan. It’s sooo obvious.” After a pregnant pause, she grins like a kid on Christmas morning, spilling her own adventures with her third of the black velvet trio in one breath. “But thank you for asking because we’re going to the cinema this weekend.”
Yerim chopsticks another tteokbokki onto her plate. “Ooh, what movie?”
“Oh, uh…” Seulgi shrugs, “dunno… I think Sooyoung knows more about what’s good, so I’ll–”
“You’re gonna let her decide, is what I’m hearing,” the maknae scoffs with an eye roll.
Seungwan smiles.
“Simps… simps! Help, someone save me, you guys are everywhere!” Yerim pretends to drown on land and her friends resist the urge to jump her on the spot. 
. . . . .
[11:09 a.m.] The raven-haired senior catches her unsuspecting junior on her way through campus gardens the next morning and pries her for answers. 
. . . . . 
“Why a cat?”
Seungwan’s eyes form joyous crescent moons. “Unnie!”
Suddenly, she has to keep her focus from dwindling into how good they’d both look sitting under the shade of that big old oak tree. 
Somewhere through the cottoned clouds of her daydreams, they’re on one of their many picnics. Doughnuts, corn-dogs, toasted sandwiches and bottled juice litter the peach gingham mat they’re sitting on, and Joohyun offers her a corner of her Gilgeori toast. Of course, she cheekily tries her luck, leaving her with just the corner instead. She yelps when Joohyun gives her a shoulder thwack well deserved. 
Clumsy knees knock together as they laugh themselves silly, the powdered sugar on their lips melting into a sweet river every time she connects them with a kiss. 
Seungwan bites her lip, wringing her mind of those thoughts, trying to play down the elation at hearing her senior’s curiosity. “A cat? I-I don’t know, I just think they’re funny and– kinda cute.” Her voice goes squeaky with excitement. “You liked it? Unnie! You should order more coffees with milk in them. I’ll draw you a bunny next time!” 
Joohyun nods, willing to buy the cafe’s entire stock if it meant she got to see Seungwan beam like a praised puppy, all too eager to learn its next trick.
And she might’ve just marched down there right now to do as she’d said… if they weren’t ten minutes late for their class. Suddenly they’re both panickedly clutching at each other, torn between sprinting like they’re being chased by hyenas, turning up fashionably late, or hopping around and freaking out about the fact that they’re already eleven minutes late, now.
Joohyun’s wrist is grabbed just as she’s about to suggest the fashionably late option. Then she’s hurtling forward, struggling to keep her books from falling whilst poorly protesting the early-morning PE session. But Seungwan is too busy shouting nonsense into the skies about how this is the final chance the lightning gods get to strike her down and charge her up.
Which would’ve been convincing had her voice not cracked on every other word.
As the pair clumsily sprint down the path of pastel flower bushes, the older girl can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this freely. She can barely get the words out but she feels like she’d explode if she didn’t. 
“Seungwan-ah! You’re giving me a six pack!”
And when Seungwan turns back to laugh with her, something in Joohyun’s static heart ignites.
. . . . .
Tumblr media
In the diamond, star-dappled sky, Cherub wakes from his silken cloud. Lily-white wings unfurl at the latest calling.
22 notes · View notes
gohyuck · 4 years
Note
Could you make a jeno no. 15 prompt? No rush tho!! Love your work thank you so much
you’re so sweet omg of course I can ❤️❤️
prompt: “I can't wait 'til you come over, I'm not sober, so you know how it's 'bout to go.”
note: suggestive, mentions of sex
in an interesting twist of fate, you’re already on your way to jeno’s apartment when he sends you a clothed dick pic and a ‘now’ text. your job’s been stressful this past week, and you know jeno’s work as an assistant curator at the nearby art museum can’t be a walk in the park. your arms are laden with two takeout bags - one with food and the other with beer - and your heart is full of hope.
hope that you’ll get laid, that is. you can’t think of anything else at the moment, especially not after the image of his hand resting over the prominent bulge in his gray sweatpants is burned into your eyelids. you don’t bother to respond to his text - after all, you’re already at his apartment building, mere feet away from his door.
you only have to knock once before it swings open and a messy-haired jeno greets you, eyes folding into half-moons as he smiles upon seeing you. the way he grins sweetly at you is a direct contrast to the text you have open on your phone, and you can’t help but be enamored by both sides of him.
“you work fast,” he remarks, taking the bags off of your hands before letting you in. you laugh as you shuck your shoes off by the door.
“we just had the same idea,” you respond, and he chuckles along with you.
“i’m glad, honestly - could hardly wait ‘til you came over. i had some soju, so i’m not exactly sober. you know the drill.”
“there’s a crushed, empty beer can in one of the bags,” you gesture vaguely at the coffee table, where jeno’s set the takeout down. “so we’re both in the same place on that, too.”
“had a drink on the walk over?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. his grin upon seeing you nod is sly, and you aren’t surprised when he steps closer and finally rests his hands against your waist. “that’s... naughty.”
“what are you going to do about it?”
jeno levels the sultry gaze you’re giving him, leaning in until his mouth is dangerously close to your own before choosing to reply. his voice comes out low, a little hoarse, the bass thrumming against your skin in a way that makes your thighs rub together.
“what do you want me to do about it?”
your reaction is instantaneous; you pull jeno’s mouth to yours as he grips your hips tighter, pulling your lower half into his. he walks you backwards until you’re against a wall, not separating from you even once as you allow him to take complete control over the kiss. he grins against your cheek as he finally pulls away, not hesitating before running chaste and not-so-chaste kisses down the column of your neck, against your shoulders and your collarbones. it’s all you can do to allow your head to drop back with a shallow thump against the wall behind you.
“that feel good?” he murmurs at the junction of your jaw and neck, and you’re hyper-aware of the way he’s forcing you to stay pinned to the wall with one hand while the other is unbuttoning your jeans. you nod frantically as you run your hands over his shoulders, tugging at his shirt in a way that practically screams ‘i want this off!’.
“it would f- shit- feel better if your dick was inside me right now.” you force out, your brain barely able to even process enough to let you know what to say. jeno’s fingers quicken, finally getting your jeans undone before pulling away from your neck. his hooded gaze meets your own, and your mouth immediately dries: jeno’s pupils are blown wide, his eyes clouded over with lust. you don’t doubt that you look the same.
“want me to fuck you right here?” he asks, leaning in to press his forehead against yours as he looks you in the eye. “want me to rail you against my wall? you’re that desperate, hm? didn’t even need me to ask for you, you were already on your way.”
you know for a fact that he has the barest, loosest grip on what he’s saying, not registering the own things he’s spewing. it doesn’t bother you - not when you’re so insanely turned on by every word that falls from between his lips. it’s once you nod frantically, once you swear and let out a broken ‘yes’ that jeno shoves his hand into your panties, illiciting a loud moan. from the hardened look in his eyes and the way you’re so pliant, you already know that it’s going to be a long night.
your take-out remains on the coffee table, almost completely forgotten.
167 notes · View notes
lupinlongbottom · 4 years
Text
Almost Fading
Remus Lupin x Reader
Summary: An Order mission went wrong, leaving a soaked Sirius on the doorstep of the Lupin’s home, Remus clinging onto the world around him. 
Prompt: Hii, i’d like to request a remus x reader where he gets very (like, VERY) hurt on an order mission, and sirius like brings him to him and the readers shared apartment or something, and they have to make sure remus doesn’t die i suppose. It’s sad i know but it would be nice to have a happy ending? Thank you ❤️- Anon
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Blood, mentions of wounds, swearing
A/N: Angst! Wow. Makes me sad. Realized that I haven’t been writing for anyone but Charlie for a while, so here’s our favorite furry boy! So, here’s the sappy sadness!
__
The storm didn’t cease. The creaking of the quaint cottage only echoed throughout the empty halls. How long had it been since Remus left for the mission? At least four hours ago, he had said that it wouldn’t take longer than an hour at most. It was only a reconnaissance mission for the order, something Remus assured wouldn’t be difficult. Easy enough, no chance of harm. (Y/N) could do nothing but worry, listening to the pelting of rain to the kitchen window. Suddenly, the front door swung open, the wind whistling through the front foyer, blowing towards the open kitchen.
“(Y/N)!” A voice shrieked, beckoning the witch to follow it. 
“Sirius?”(Y/N) said, recognizing the voice almost immediately. She ran to the front door, only to find Sirius Black, dripping wet from the rain.
“You have to help,” Sirius croaked, turning slightly, revealing Remus, bloodied and whimpering on his back. “Get the couch ready, some towels, any sort of healing materials you may have.”
“What the fuck happened to him?” (Y/N) practically shrieked, noting the crimson dripping onto the floorboards, the red soaking into his clothes. “Sirius, answer me!”
“Do you really think now’s the time, (Y/N)?” He quipped back, setting him down on the brown and tattered couch, hitting his shin on the table in front of it. “For Godric’s sake, woman, get your ass in gear and do something!”
(Y/N) didn’t have to be asked again. She sprang down the hall, flinging open the cabinet that housed the various bottles and potion ingredients that the couple could afford. It wasn’t much, but anything could help. “Dittany… dittany…” she mumbled, fingering through the serums. “Dittany!” She grasped onto the small purple vial and a handful of old towels before rushing back to the war scene in front of her.
“The worst of it’s on his chest,” Sirius said, opening the torn shirt to (Y/N). She nodded, holding back a choked sob, perhaps vomit as well. The wounds were deep, the flesh seemingly hanging onto nothing at all. 
“Move,” (Y/N) choked out, pushing Sirius to the side, allowing her to kneel before her partner. Her hands shook with every twist of the vial, but she managed to get the top off, dropping the clear liquid onto his chest. The wound began to sizzle, closing up partially. “The kitchen,” she mumbled, dripping more of the dittany around his chest, watching it rise and fall. He was still breathing.
“What?” Sirius asked, begging for her to repeat.
“Make yourself useful,” (Y/N) seethed, pointing to the kitchen. “A bowl of warm water, a big one. Go,” Sirius didn’t need to be asked twice. He quickly fled to the kitchen, seemingly to obtain the materials she required. “What on earth did you get yourself into, Rem?” 
The bottle of dittany had reached its end, (Y/N) using the majority of it on his chest. Thankfully, the wounds were shallower, not nearly as vicious and red as they were before. The bleeding lessened, but hardly didn’t stop. (Y/N) pulled out her wand and began to recite healing incantations, hoping that the rudimentary skills she’d picked up on could assist in a wound so deep. They usually helped after a full moon, but this was another story.
“Warm water,” Sirius said, setting the bright blue bowl onto the coffee table next to (Y/N). “A big bowl,” he said, trying to crack a smile. “Just like you requested.”
(Y/N) nodded meekly at the bowl, dipping a towel into the water, allowing droplets to fall onto the floorboards before pressing it to Remus’ chest. The vibrant red began to fade to a softer pink, cleaner with each swipe. She could see Remus’ face twist in pain, unaware to the sensations. “Could you lift him? I need to wrap him up with clean bandages,” Sirius helped his friend sit up, allowing (Y/N) to fully remove the mess of what used to be a shirt, unrolling the gauze around his torso until it seemingly looked the part.
“Is he stable?” 
“For now,” (Y/N) shrugged, wiping the sweat off her forehead, eyes transfixed onto the man on the couch. His brows were drawn tight together, almost as if he was having a nightmare. “Are you going to tell me now? Or am I going to have to ask my near-dead husband?” She turned to Sirius, who had found a home on the plush chair adjacent to the couch.
“It’s a long story,” Sirius said, rubbing the blood on his brow across his face with his thumb. “Well, how ‘bout that?” he mumbled, noting the red now spread onto his thumb.
“I have the time,” (Y/N) said, throwing Sirius a wet rag, hitting him square in the face. “Talk.”
“Who knew Mrs. Lupin could bite?” Sirius teased, holding the rag to his brow, cleaning his thumb in the process. “Thought that was your husband’s forte, no?”
“Sirius—”
“Alright, alright,” Sirius said, finally giving in. “Did Remus fill you in on the specificities of the mission tonight?” (Y/N) shook her head, almost sadly. “Of course he didn’t. What a bloke, bet he was trying to protect you—”
“I don’t need protection.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Sirius chuckled. “Blimey, (Y/N), you’re one of the fiercest duelers I know. Knock me to my knees in two seconds flat, you could. Even in your current… state,” he motioned to the growing bump beneath (Y/N)’s chest.
“I’m glad you know that much,” (Y/N) grinned lightly, turning back to her husband, still passed out, her hand instinctively resting atop the bump. “If only my husband would be wise enough to see it.”
“Look, we all understand why Remus won’t let you tag along for the Order anymore. James made Lily hold back with Harry, too, you know? But I agree, it’s unfair that he’s keeping Order material from you just because you have a leech sucking the life out of you.”
“My baby isn’t a leech,” (Y/N) said, turning her attention back to Sirius, his bloodied boots resting atop of their table. “I’m just as much a member of the Order as Remus is,” she pushed his boot off, allowing it to hit the floor with a thud. “As much as you are.”
“Tell your husband that, mate,” Sirius groaned, leaning forward to re-wet his cloth. “Otherwise he’s going to keep doing it.”
“Was the mission a simple reconnoissance?” (Y/N) asked, already knowing the answer. Sirius shook his head. “Figures,” she clicked, preparing a heated speech to recite later, once Remus was in better shape, of course. She wasn’t mental.
“We already knew of their location, learned about it a week prior. We were set to go in, obtain any documents or materials that could give us a clue as to what You-Know-Who was up to—”
“And by materials…?”
“Yeah, we bloodied up some Death Eaters,” Sirius said, sheepishly pulling a grin. “We tried to, anyway. One of ‘em, Goyle, I think, got the better of Moony and used a nasty spell I had never heard of before, caused him to fall flat on the ground,” he shook his head, almost repulsed by the memory. “The blood was massive, (Y/N). I thought he was going to die, then and there. I knew the mission was a bust, so I grabbed ahold of him and Disapparated us the second I could, hoped that I’d end up here and… you know the rest.”
“I’m shocked neither of you got splinched,” (Y/N) said, noting Sirius’ minor injuries. “Couldn’t say the same about my husband. But it doesn’t seem like any of these could be because of splinching…” She gave Remus a once over, hoping to find nothing new.
“Hey, I’m excellent at Apparition, thank you very much,” Sirius boasted, his chest puffing proudly. “Passed my exam with flying colors, I did.”
“Whatever spell Goyle used really beat him up,” (Y/N) said, her fingers tracing the healing cuts on his arms, now no longer bleeding. They were shallow, nearly as deep as what a normal full moon would bring. “You said you’ve never seen it before?”
Sirius shook his head. “It sounded like a spell Snivellus tried using on James, once. Didn’t work then,” His grey eyes fell upon his friend. “Guess he worked out the kinks.”
“Must’ve,” (Y/N) hummed, her hand grasping Remus’ gently. His breathing hitched for a moment before returning to its rhythmic beat. “Sirius, feel free to clean yourself up, enjoy a hot shower, I have that enchanted soap you like.”
“You sure you’ll be okay alone with him?” Sirius asked, lifting himself off the chair. (Y/N) nodded meekly. “If something happens, just scream and I’ll be down in two ticks, even if I’m indecent,” he winked, disappearing down the hall. A few moments passed before (Y/N) heard the water turn on, the pipes creaking throughout the house.
“Remus,” (Y/N) sighed, rubbing his hand with her thumb in small circles. “If you can hear me,” she paused, hoping for a response. Nothing. “Know that you’re a right git, alright?” 
“Git…” 
“Rem?”
“I’m bloodied up…” Remus breathed, his hazel eyes flickering open for the first time that evening. “And the first thing you call me is a git?”
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” (Y/N) smirked, the hot tears blinking away from her eyes by the second. “You had me scared, Rem, I thought you were a goner.”
“Are you alright?” Remus asked, his voice raspy and dry. “The baby—”
“You’re acting like I was the one who was cut open like a prime rib,” (Y/N) laughed, feeling the tears run down her cheek, dripping off her chin. “I was here, safe and sound in your perfect little bubble where nothing can harm me, as usual,” (Y/N) said, the sarcasm flowing from her tongue like acid.
“Good,” Remus nodded, resting his head back onto the pillow, closing his eyes again. “I’m glad.”
“You idiot,” (Y/N) mumbled. “That was supposed to make you feel guilty!”
“I do,” He responded, taking a deep breath. “Never said I didn’t”
“You don’t regret it for a second, do you?” (Y/N) said, forcing herself not to scream. She had to be mad at him, even if she was elated that he was alive. Remus coughed, his face twisting in pain. “Let me at least get you a glass of water—”
“Stay,” Remus said, holding onto (Y/N)’s wrist, forbidding her from moving from her very spot. “Please.”
“Alright,” (Y/N) said, settling back onto the floor. “You know, this isn’t an ideal position for the baby,” she smiled, glancing down at her growing bump. It’s been six months since they had found out, Remus had fled the scene, leaving (Y/N) alone for the first month and a half. He was scared, afraid of the monster his son or daughter could become. One swift kick to the head later, thanks James, Remus realized his foolish mistake and came running back. 
“I could give you the couch,” Remus said, leaning upwards slightly before (Y/N) gingerly pushed him back down. “Yeah, not the brightest idea.”
“No,” (Y/N) smiled, shaking her head. The clock on the wall dauntingly clicked with every second passing, the silence in the room deafening to Remus’ shallow breathing. “Do you want me to keep talking?”
“Please,” Remus nodded. “It helps.”
“I read that baby book Lily gave me,” (Y/N) began, still running circles on the back of Remus’ hand. “It’s a muggle one, said her sister gifted it to her. You couldn’t imagine the photos they had in there, I’d say they’re more gruesome than the state you’re in right about now.”
“Is that so?” Remus let out an airy chuckle. “Better be glad they’re not magic photos.”
“Disgusting,” (Y/N) groaned, only imagining the horror of moving images. “I flipped through most of that, don’t want to be spoiled on the big day, you know? Skipped right to the list of names.”
“They have those?”
“Loads of ‘em,” (Y/N) nodded. “English names, French names, names that should be used exclusively for dogs—”
“Like Padfoot?” Remus smiled lightly.
“Godric, would he give that name up? I’m not naming our child after some mutt—”
“That mutt being a potential godfather, love,” Remus reminded, gently squeezing (Y/N)’s hand. 
“He has Harry, frankly I think that ought to be enough for him,” (Y/N) laughed, noting the color returning to Remus’ cheeks. “But I wrote down a few names I quite fancied.”
“Read them to me,” Remus said, opening his again. “Please?”
“Accio,” (Y/N) called, waving her wand lightly. A paper that rested on the kitchen counter fluttered through the air and into her free hand. “Are you sure you want to hear them? I imagine you have your own preferences on a name—” 
“None at all,” Remus shook his head. “I never really gave children a second thought, let alone names.”
“Well,” (Y/N) choked, trying to hide her true feelings from the obviously somber and quite dark sentence Remus had muttered. “I rather fancied Hope, after your mum.”
“Another Hope Lupin?” Remus smiled lightly. “She’d be ecstatic, to say the least. But don’t let my family persuade your choices on names, love,” Remus squeezed her hand. “The child should be able to make own of their name, don’t you think?”
“I agree,” (Y/N) nodded, squeezing his hand back. “I was thinking more towards a middle name, much like James and Lily did with Harry,” she snorted. “But like hell we’ll give her my name. I’ve always hated it.”
“I rather like your name,” Remus hummed, moving his other hand to rest on his chest lightly. “It’s my favorite thing to say.”
“Remus,” (Y/N) said, feeling her face grow hot to the touch. “Even near-death you know how to flatter a girl,” she smiled, pushing a tuft of light brown hair out of her husband’s eyes, her hand resting gently on his jaw.
“Not just any girl,” he smiled, now able to fully see (Y/N) in the faint glow of the light drowning from the kitchen. “My wife.”
“Yes, your wife,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling Remus’ head lean more into her touch. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the touch of his wife. “Jane was a top one, Eleanor, Isabella, Audrey…”
“Those are all wonderful,” Remus nodded. “And boy names?”
“I didn’t even bother, seeing as there’s no need for—shit,” (Y/N) ripped her hand from Remus’ face. His eyes flicked open again.
“(Y/N),” Remus said, leaning up just a bit. “Are we having a girl?”
“The doctors told me last week,” (Y/N) groaned, ashamed for letting the secret slip. “I wanted to tell you differently, I was working on knitting a pink jumper for you, going to surprise you with it.”
“A girl…”
“Are you upset by that?”
“Of course not,” Remus smiled, looking (Y/N) in the eyes. “We’re having a beautiful baby girl and you think I’d be upset? Far from it.”
“Good,” (Y/N) nodded, feeling the tears from before return to the edges of her eyes. “Just be surprised when I give you the jumper anyway, I’ve been working awfully hard on it.”
“Will do,” Remus smiled, feeling the sting of tears threatening his own eyes. “Love?”
“Yes?”
He removed his hand from hers, moving it behind her neck, pushing her gently towards himself. Their lips touched gently, (Y/N) afraid to push anything deeper onto the already weak man. A flittering of small pecks dotted their lips, each softer than the last.
“Thank you, for everything,” Remus said, thumb drawing circles on her jaw. “I don’t thank you enough. For putting up with me and my condition, for listening to my worries about your health, for saving my life,” his smile grew wider. “And for my daughter. Our daughter.”  
“Will you start trusting me again? Tell me the truth about what you’re doing? You have two girls to come home to now, two girls that need you, Remus.”
“You’re right, it was foolish of me to even think of it otherwise.”
(Y/N) leaned in to kiss him again, feeling the swell of love in her chest, a feeling she’s grateful to enjoy, grateful that Remus wasn’t dead, grateful that he’ll get to meet their daughter. See her off on her first day at Hogwarts, learn about the woman she’d become. Grateful for the life they have left to enjoy.
__
General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers , @greeneyedthief, @kitkatkl
Remus Lupin Tag List: @knowledgeisthebomb , @serenefreakgeek
want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!
252 notes · View notes
penaltybox14 · 3 years
Text
DecoFiremen: No happy choice
@zeitheist @darknight-brightstar @squad51goals @its-skadi  Silky is sick in the city, and Josiah has to make some choices, and have some conversations.  Emotions are hard, yo.
It's never good, to see that look on Eddy's face.  His fighter's jaw is set, but his eyes are soft like ships on a dark harbor.  This is the face that bodes bad news, something Eddy can't fix with his hands, a hot cup of coffee or a knock about the ears.  When Josiah sees that look, after breakfast one late winter's day, the first thing he thinks is the state has come to call on Davey again.  He'd taken them in his teeth that day at the gate, and thought if not rid of them altogether, he'd bought them enough time to think of how to put them off for good.  It did wake him, though, to watch the high moon paint his quarters and fear the state might come back, with papers, with authority, with some force he could not bluff. 
(If they were to take Cleary now, he thinks, the boy would be lost forever.  He would be some shadow growing thinner and paler on the back ward of the state hospital, he would settle sure as smoke in that long dark hall of his or drown in the lake below the lawn.  For sure, he would.)
"No," Eddy says, his raw knuckles flexing, catching the rattle of Josiah's thoughts, "no, it ain't the young fella."
"So what is it, then?  You hear from town there's none left of those hot peppers the grocer pickles, that you eat whole from the stem?" 
Josiah's humor falls as flat and pale as vellum in the typewriter, gnawed down by keystrokes.
"Got a telegram from the city, Birchy."  Eddy grips the butcher-block of the back kitchen's table, leans, uprights, and leans again.  "Silky's gone down sick."
"Sick." Josiah has to steady himself.  His bad leg throbs like a bad dream that upends the day.  "Gone down sick?  Who sent it?"
"Hastings at 27.  He's at casualty down at Bellevue, thinking it's pneumonia."
He cannot go.  He cannot go: he is responsible here, the Captain of this house, their grounds.  He cannot go: to leave his post, to leave the lads, to leave the boy.  Worst of all, that: to leave the boy.  What kind of captain would he be then, to leave the newest and the rawest of recruits, who still trembles under the blunt wind of the sear and some days even falls to it?  Some damn bastard, he would be, but his heart and his bent leg howl as the breath of horses, carrying him surely to the city.  He was a coward once who left a hundred thousand words unanswered, the great sulk of an overgrown child.  It was not Silky's fault, was it, after all, that the roof had caved, that his body had broken under the greedy teeth of the timbers? 
But he had never told Silks that, had he.  And he could, now.  He could have the chance to say it again. 
"It's an awful long way, to the city."
"I haven't seen him since the promotion."
"You'd be leaving the boy."
"I know it."
"Do you?"
"I do know it, Eddy."
"Took you how long to answer a simple letter?  How long would you plan on staying?  Til he was well?  Til the dark took him?"
What a bitter kick in the chest, the fury rising up inside him so hard it makes his eyes water.  "Silks isn't going to die.  He didn't die in that damn fire and he won't now."
"If'n you go, Birch, I'll drive you to the station.  But you'll tell Lufty and Monroe and the lads, and most of all, young Cleary, where you're off to."
Lufty, he knows, will understand.  Lufty and Monroe both, are men who have swallowed smoke and coughed out grief in spatters on the sidewalk, ribs heaving under the weight of it.  Josiah was not the first fireman to be ground hard in the blaze's splintering teeth, he will not be the last. 
Though some days he feels as if he is the only fool to lose a brother by his own carelessness and greedy fury.  Fool, to lie shattered, dry and cracked and thirsty for the safe embrace of brick walls and floorboards that creak with midnight steps and men who roll over in starched sheets and roll over again.  Fool that Silks had sat for, holding the hand without the needle, speaking to him from far away through the ether and the lazy dream-fields of poppies and long sunshine.
But the boy, god, the boy. 
Whatever he does, he can't spare the boy.  Would that he could.  For his sear to have broke before his voice, the boy ought to be allowed to live a life of perfect grace, running the field with the lads and catching perch down in the pond, every line charged, every ladder strong, every jake out clear. 
Silks or Davey, he thinks, what'll it be, what choice do I have?
The sun sprawling across the yard has taken on the keener brass of springtime - the snow is still deep, the ice still thick enough to drive a double hitch onto, but the turn of the earth is winning out as she always does.  The lads sweat at their work - Lufty and Monroe have let ladders and ropes ice overnight, and each exercise begins with a clamor of ideas on how to handle the frozen gear.  Bertram and Jules are keen to lead, while Kitson, Jacob, and Lee, the newest lot, scamper about and skitter like fawns.  How funny, to see from the broad steps, that Davey knows nearly as much as a half-year, though he has not the strength yet.  He will, though.  There is an awkward, coltish grace about him.  Something he has not grown into.  Josiah woke one night when the sky was half-silver with stars and Davey was standing in his quarters like a ghost-child, the sear singing in their bones.  A long way to grow, that one.  A long, fine way.
Lufty catches him after lunch.  Lufty is harder at the edges, often, than Eddy has ever been.  Even when Josiah was still stiff about the collar in his new kit, Eddy was all bluff, and quick to mild.  Eddy would brawl for any jake among them.  Lufty was tougher to read, even after he was on the boards.  Lufty Parker was burned once, and badly, in a fire at the piers in Chelsea.  His scars creep up the side of his neck, and cup the back of his head like a brief and tender lover.  They invite no dormitory tales, only an edgy kind of sorrow.  Josiah had heard, in his rook year, that three men had plunged into the East River, but just one had come up.  The oakbellies, he had been told, had tried to make Lufty a captain, and he'd refused to show up for the ceremony.  They'd tried to make him a battalion chief, and he'd hopped the first train to Troy. 
So he had been told.
But Lufty knows the white rooms and white coats at Bellevue and the casualty ward.
"There's not no happy choice to make, Birchy," Lufty says to him in his office.
 "It's just not gonna be so.  That said, it's not about if you goes, I think, it's about if you're coming back."
"You think I won't?"
"I know you will.  But it's not me what needs convincing."
Josiah sighs.  His leg is tight, aching, and he ought to stretch it out.  But he's afraid if he ventures out now, he'll run into Davey, breathless with some discovery.  "What am I supposed to say to him, Luft?"
"To Silks or the boy?"
"Either one."
"I couldn't say.  When I went into the river, I thought we'd all come out.  We had a fire at our heels and the river below us, and the last thing I remember before spitting up black water on the cobbles was Matty taking my elbow and Tom saying it'd be alright."
He's never heard this story, not from Lufty's taut lips and clenched teeth, so he stills like a boy in church and lets the old memory - the smell of creosote, and the greasy river, the snapping pilings and the blinding smoke - shiver on the air and fall as motes of golden dust.  The worst was not the plunge, was it, but the waking.
Alone. 
It's going to hurt them both, but crueler for the boy.
After Lufty leaves him to his battered thoughts, he sits at his desk until the dusk unravels into night.  The dinner mess bell clangs.  The lads thunder about downstairs like wild horses, shouting, stampeding.
He ought to get up now, go to the kitchens, get a bite.  Eddy is always after him to put something more than gristle and spite on his bones.  He plants his hands on his desk, ready to make the effort to stand, when of a sudden Davey's there, in the door.
Josiah has a good look at him, now, under the humming electrics.  Still too thin, for his widening shoulders.  Hair in need of a trim or at least a comb.  (He tries to do it like Bertram Cochrane, slicking the sides down, but the loose black curls are springing free by midday).  A tear in the shoulder of his shirt fixed by clunky, deliberate stitches.  A boy exuberantly ragged at the end of a long day. 
"Capper.  You weren't at mess."
Josiah pins a smile to the corner of his mouth like he means it.  "Eddy send you up?"
"No sir."
"I'll be down soon."
The boy hesitates.  "Capper?  Are you angry?"
"No.  Why would you say?"
"You been up here all day, Capper, that's all.  Eddy said - well I think he said, maybe I just thought of something he did say, you know, the sear said he - well you know.  Eddy's sear is so bright sometimes.  I forget.  Eddy said you used to get your hackles up and hide out in your quarters all day."
Josiah chuckles softly.  "He's right.  I did.  I'm not angry, m'son."
"What's wrong, then?"
"Come sit."  There is not gonna be no happy choice, said Lufty.  And there won't be, but he'd be crueler not to tell the boy. 
Davey comes round to his desk and pulls up a chair, as he does when they read and talk, about things Josiah knows - like radio manuals and floorplans and exit strategies - and things that Davey knows, like checkers and poems and music.  "I told you 'bout my pal, Silky.  You remember, his letters."
"Yes sir."
"He saved my life.  Before I was a captain."
"I dream that sometimes.  Like you know about the lake.  And Liddy."
Josiah picks up a pen and twirls it over the blotter.  His chest is tight, like breathing through a wet kerchief.  "Davey, Silky's very sick.  We got a telegram from his captain."  He takes a deep breath, pushing through it, like crawling under thick smoke, palming every door.  "He's in the hospital in the city."
Davey watches him through a child's lashes with eyes that pierce him like a brother.  Josiah longs for a horse between them, the calming stroke of the soft brush on the soot-dappled back.  He longs for the darkness between bunks, staring at the ceiling.  In the low, fragile light, Josiah sees the dampness welling up in Davey's eyes.  It is too hard to hide. 
Davey knows already.  He is biting his lip, as if he is already a young man. While he lay in a Bellevue bed, a needle in one arm, Silky had bent over the other, murmuring.  Josiah, from his awkward seat with his bad leg locked in its brace, leans forward in one great surge and takes the boy in his arms and holds him tight.  As close as his nightmares, as tight as his memories.  "I will come back.  I will, Davey, I promise you.  I'll come back."
The child's stumbling sear is a raw mess of questions, frantic as birds beating their wings against a low-slung slate-clouded sky.  He is crying.  Good, Josiah thinks.  Good that grief be open. 
"You promise," Davey whispers at last, hoarse with a sob and muffled deep into his chest.  "You got to promise, Capper."
"Promise. I promise, I promise.  As sure as I can't run, m'son, I promise I will come home."
7 notes · View notes
illicreatxm · 4 years
Text
5SOS (Youngblood) - Lyrics Sentence Starters (pt. 2)
More
“There's me and you all living in the same place”
“Why do we feel alone?”
“A house that's full of everything we wanted”
“But it's an empty home”
“Why can't we choose our emotion?”
“We could feel something's broken”
“I can't stay without hoping we'll never be alone”
“All the things that we dream about, they don't mean what they did before”
“I just wanna get back to us”
“We used to have more”
“Why does it feel like we're missing out?”
“I'm standing behind the door”
“Lately we've been living in different nations”
“Enemy lines are drawn”
“We're speaking different tongues communicating right through the bedroom wall”
“I know we break, but we're not broken”
Why Won’t You Love Me
“Why?”
“Switching into airplane mode again”
“We're not alright but I'll pretend”
“Just be good 'til I get back”
“I hold back the tears”
“Don't worry, you won't be lonely”
“Why won't you love me?”
“You imagine when you close your eyes you're with me on the other side”
“The place we like to go”
“You take yourself home again”
���Three missed calls at 2 a.m.” 
“You say you never heard”
“You're late to get to work and then”
“You hold back the tears”
“Your best girlfriend just got engaged”
“You say you can't wait and need to make a change”
“You told me it's so hard to be lonely”
“We're together, all alone tonight”
“Can you tell me why, my love?”
“Can you tell me why?”
“I hold on to you and you hold on to me”
Woke Up In Japan
“I woke up in Japan”
“The best I ever had”
“It was more than half empty”
“I'm feeling low, feeling lonely”
“It was more than just a neon weekend”
“Time is up, the end is just a dream”
“Just a dream”
“It's enough to let the night let go of me”
“There's a noise complaint from room 304”
Empty Wallets
“Stop digging in your heart 'cause tonight is on me”
“Tonight is on me”
“Stop trying so hard of what you said to me”
“Get too high when I'm high so we see eye-to-eye”
“Away we go”
“Living our lives dancing on empty wallets”
“Spend it all on you”
“Until we die”
“We got the whole night, won't you spend it with me?”
“Live it with me?”
“We got our lives, but living ain't cheap”
“Sugar caught a break”
“The fluid ain't to blame”
“I always believed in second chances”
“I always believed in you”
Ghost Of You
“Here I am waking up”
“Still can't sleep on your side”
“There's your coffee cup”
“The lipstick stain fades with time”
“If I can dream long enough, you'd tell me I'd be just fine”
“I'll be just fine”
“I drown it out like I always do”
“Dancing through our house with the ghost of you”
“I chase it down with a shot of truth”
“Cleaning up today, found that old Zepplin shirt you wore when you ran away”
“No one could feel your hurt”
“We're too young, too dumb to know things like love”
“I know better now”
“My feet don't dance like they did with you” 
Monster Among Men
“Demons hide behind my back and I can't see them”
“Leading me to do their dirty work”
“Won't let them knock down my door”
“The stupid truth is I'm so bad for you”
“I can't take it”
“I won't break your heart again”
“I don't wanna be a monster among men”
“Always 'bout to fall just like sandcastles”
“It's time for me to admit that I'm an asshole”
“Here I go”
Meet You There
“Every moment spent, I wish I was with you”
“Every night I slept, I dreamt I was with you”
“No matter where you go, you know I'd wait for you”
“I would break in bed, if you wanted me to”
“So you go your way and I'll go mine and if we're meant to, I'll meet you there”
“We can't speed up the hands of time”
“I'll meet you there”
“When it's physical, I can't keep track of days”
“But the emotional is more than we can take”
“Oh, I'm just waiting for you, to tell you the truth”
“I'd keep waiting for you if you wanted me to”
“This time and next time, you know I'll meet you there”
“Tell me what's on my mind”
“Is this is it?”
Babylon
“I thought we had a place, just our place”
“Was you and I always, but that phase has been phased in our place”
“I see it on your face, a small trace, a place laid, we been erased”
“But if we're way too faded to drive, you can stay one more night”
“We said we'd both loved higher than we knew we could go”
“The hardest part is knowing when to let go”
“You wanted to go higher”
“We burned too bright, now the fire's gone”
“Watch it all fall down, Babylon”
“We're tired of the view, your short fuse, my half choose are not amused”
“I wish we had a clue to start new, a white moon, no residue”
“The color of our mood is so rude, a cold June, we're not immune”
“But if we're way too faded to fight, you can stay one more night”
“Watch it all fall down”
“We burned too bright”
“Now the fire's gone”
18 notes · View notes
jubilantwriter · 4 years
Text
Jaspvid Week 2020: Day 5 - AU Day
(AO3) @jaspvid-week
this is so late AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
And They Were Supposed to Waltz Together Under the Light of the Moonlight as Fate Foretold
Summary:  Being a toy, Jasper is aware that there are only so many things he can look forward to in life.  One of which is being adopted by a child.  But that was pretty much all he expected from his life.  That is, until a new set of toys come into the shop.  And suddenly, there is so much more to his life that he wants from it.  And so much more he wants to share with the doll behind the glass.
Word Count: 6082
There is a little toy shop just off the beaten path, where the busy city folk forget to glance down as they make their way to and fro from place to place.  Hidden away in an alley, tucked between the quiet coffee shop and secondhand bookstore that only a few know to take solace in, this little toy shop houses a few forgotten joys and wonders that the old, wrinkled man calmly cares for day in and day out.
And every night, when the old, wrinkled man leaves to go home, the toys come to life.
For in this tiny shop lies life beyond what the mind knows to be true.  
A little toy soldier, wooden and dusty, blinks before he looks around, making sure that the coast is clear before he stands up and stretches.  Life begins again, and he begins the same routine he’s followed since the day he received his name.  
But today is a little different, isn’t it?  He looks over to the display case across from his shelf, where new residents are hiding from the rest of the shop.
"Jasper!"  A soft plush of a cat calls to him from the ground, stretching her limbs like a real cat would and yawning as she does so.  "Have you heard?"
"Hey, Gwen."  The toy soldier smiles as he lowers his arms, the springs inside his wooden limbs squeaking slightly as he does so.  "I didn't need to hear, I'm high enough up here to see everything perfectly fine."
"Whatever.  Just hurry up and get down here."  She rolls her beady eyes as she sits up on the floor.  All around them, the toys begin their daily bouts of getting up and moving around.  Dolls and other stuffed animals gently lower themselves from their bins and greet friends from the other side of the store.  Plastic action figures begin tugging the pillow off the old man's chair behind the counter.  With it, they carefully place it under the shelves and call for their friends to jump off and onto the cushy surface.  Right on cue, the pillow is dragged over to the shelf housing Jasper and his companions, all of them leaping to the floor with practiced ease.  Gwen pads over to him as she lowers her head.  He laughs, gently petting her fluffy head with his formless hand.  She quickly lays down and lets him climb on, his hands and arms slipping safely under her ribbon collar.  "All tucked away?"
"As well as I can be."
"I'd say hang on but you don't have fingers."
"Haha."  Nonetheless, he smiles as she trots over to the glass display case behind the counter.  Already a group of toys have gathered on top of the counter as the biggest bear in the shop carefully lifts them up.  Gwen waits her turn as the bear hoists them up silently, nodding to them in greeting as the pair look towards the display case with the others.  
A new group of toys have made it into the toy store.  While this event itself isn't too uncommon, what catches everyone's attention is the fragility of these toys.  Hand-painted with decorative clothing and ball joints for easy moving and posing, the collection of precious porcelain dolls sit quietly in the display case.
Not moving.
The toys whisper among themselves as they watch with unease.
"Why aren't they moving?"  
"Do they not know?"
"How new are they?"
Jasper keeps silent, the light of the moon highlighting the porcelain dolls with a soft shine he's rarely seen in the shop.  There's two of them, sitting side by side against an ornate castle that looks too decorative to be played with.  Their clothing looks just as gorgeous - one has a long, beautiful gown of royal purple, with golden vine-like designs curling and climbing up to rest gently by her waist sewn in, and of course, a layer of lavender tulle that seems to be common for all princess dolls nowadays.  The princess is beautiful, Jasper won't deny that, with her curly hair falling in waves onto her bare shoulders, and her proud, golden eyes framed by her long lashes.  
As beautiful as she is, however, Jasper finds more of his attention taken by the prince standing next to her, wearing a navy tunic with similar golden embroidery, a cape to match, and a decorative sword hanging from the belt around his waist.  Red hair is styled proudly as it can't decide whether to clash or compliment the clothing the prince wears, and emerald eyes stare straight ahead, looking nearly gentle in nature.
And, like all good princes do, his arm is looped to let his princess hold onto him inside the case.
Beautiful.
Jasper continues to stare, head tilted to the side as he watches the two dolls remain lifeless.
"Do you think they need someone to tell them to wake up?"
"Probably.  Doesn't look like they'll do it themselves."
"Maybe it's the glass."  He slips his arms out and pats her head, pointing with his hand.  "Maybe they can't hear us, so they don't know there's life out here."
"Maybe."  She tilts her head slightly to get a glimpse of him.  "What are you planning?"
"You make it sound bad."  He grins and looks to Big Bear.  "Mind giving me a lift?"
"Jasper-"
"Relax!"  Big Bear gently picks him up while Gwen watches with an annoyed glare.  "I promise, it's nothing big.  Heya Big Bear, put me down in front of the case.  Right on the ledge there."  As the bear puts him down gently, Jasper looks over himself.  He's presentable, right?  It's not like his outfit can change much.  Everything is painted on with care, but he's sure there's bits of him chipping somewhere.
Actually, now that he thinks about it, he's pretty bottom-tier for toys when compared to the porcelain dolls inside the case.
It makes him hesitate, suddenly wondering if it's too late to back out.  He wanted to greet them, welcome them to the shop, but maybe he's not the greatest looking toy to welcome them.  Gwen could have worked much better - her dark brown fur is shiny and new, even though she's been here almost as long as him.  The dust just doesn't settle on her like it does on him and dang, actually, is he dusty too?
He looks back to the toys on the counter, and they all watch him curiously.  Will he do it?  Can he do it?  He looks back to the dolls encased in glass, and it's when he notices that, up close, the red-haired doll has the softest smile on his face.
And for a minute, he wonders how the doll will look when he smiles a real smile, a smile that isn't painted on and is the result of the sweetest laughter, the gentlest of spoken reminders.  Jasper thinks he'd like to see the prince smile at him with a soft smile that's caused because of him.
He lifts his wooden hand to the case and knocks on it.
At first, nothing happens.
So he knocks again.
...Nothing.
"Try knocking harder!"  A voice calls out behind him.  Murmurs from the rest of the toys agree.  So he does.
Still nothing.
Frowning, he lowers his hand and sighs.  Maybe the glass was just too-
Movement.  A blink.  
Jasper rubs his eyes.  No.  He didn't imagine that, did he?  He knocks again.
Golden eyes blink again.  Then green.  
And then the princess looks at him.
"They... they're awake."  He turns back to the toys behind him, waving excitedly.  "They're awake!"  The toys cheer as he turns back to the case and gestures for the dolls to come closer.  "It's okay!"
For a minute, neither of the dolls seem keen to move.  But the princess takes a careful step forward.  Swings her free arm.  Looks to her prince curiously before saying something Jasper can't hear.  Her prince looks more hesitant, but he too takes a step.  Then another.  Swings his own arm before releasing his princess to look at his hands.  He touches his face, before reaching up to gently cup his princess' face.  She grins and cups his in return, and though Jasper can't hear them, he swears that they must be laughing together.
He knocks on the glass again, drawing their attention.  The prince keeps his smile as he looks over to Jasper and he swears that there's something about the prince that takes his breath away.  As the prince approaches, Jasper notices that there's a little hop to his step.  Instead of dignified strides, the prince walks with a giddy little bounce so unlike the image he is supposed to present that it makes Jasper chuckle.  The princess takes her time in coming over, just as curious as the prince but more wary.  He waves to the both of them and smiles.
"Hello!"  The two dolls look to each other before turning back to Jasper with confused stares.  Frowning, he cups his hands around his mouth and yells.  "HELLO!"
The dolls on the other side say something, but he can't hear a word.
Oh no.
The glass is that thick?
"They can't hear me."  Jasper turns back to the toys on the counter.  "And I can't hear them!"
"Is there a way to get the case open?"  Gwen stands from where he left her and explores the counter with the other toys.  "Is it locked?"
Jasper looks around the front of the case and spies a silver keyhole near the top corner of it.  He runs to it, trying to raise himself up high enough to reach it, but it remains well out of his reach.  Frowning, he examines the bottom part of the case, trying to find where the case can be opened in hopes of wedging something between the spaces.  He runs around the front of it, unable to examine the sides or top part of the case.  The prince follows his movements, looking where he looks and turning back to talk to his princess every once in a while.
Jasper tries to wedge the edges of his hand into what looks like a possible opening and grunts.
Nothing.
"It's locked!"  He calls back to Gwen as she and the other toys mess with the cash register.  "What are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out how this thing works."  He hears her grumble before her paw slaps at the keys.  "Damn!"
"You think the key for it is in there?"
"Yeah, probably.  A few of the toys mentioned seeing a key in here once or twice before, so it might be for that case."  She looks back at him with a disgruntled look on her face.  "We're gonna mess with it for a while, but it might be a few days before we figure it out."
"You think anyone on the shelves saw how the old man used it?"
"We'll ask.  What are you gonna do?"
What is he going to do?
There's not much he can do from the outside of the case - all he knows is that it's locked, and there's nothing he can do to wedge it open.  But maybe...
"I'm gonna try and see if they can do anything from the inside!" 
"But how??  Didn't you say that they couldn't hear you??"
"I'm just..."  He looks back to the prince, who hasn't stopped following him the entire time.  Up close, he notices that the doll has little dots adorning his face.  Freckles, he realizes, as the doll tilts his head to the side and presses a delicate hand up to the case.  He watches as the doll pushes, frowns, and pushes again.  A panicked look crosses his features as he turns to his princess and calls to her.  From this close, Jasper can almost hear his voice, muffled and faint but still there.
He wishes he can hear the prince's voice in full clarity.
The princess comes over with a frown as she pushes at the glass.  When it doesn't budge, he can see the creases in her brow deepen.  She turns back to the prince and says something, which in turn makes the prince freak out.  As she holds her hands out to placate the panicking doll, Jasper looks over to where their castle stands and wonders what props and little toys could be hiding in there.  He taps on the glass to get their attention, and both dolls look over to him with varying levels of stress and anxiety.
He looks to the both of them and presses a hand up to the glass.
And he smiles.  Comforting, he hopes.  Gentle, he prays.  And hopeful.  Because with the reality of their situation settling into their minds, they need all of that and more.
"Don't worry," he says, mouthing the words carefully as he speaks, "we'll get you out."
////
Days in the store are slow, usually.  All of them sit still and watch as maybe a customer or two pop in, and if they're lucky, a few of them may even find new homes to go to, with children who are excited to play with them holding the lucky few close to their chest.  But the ones who remain now have a different goal in mind.
To free the two dolls trapped in the glass case.
A few dolls have placed themselves closer to the cash register, slowly edging themselves closer as the days go by to get a glimpse at how the old man operates it.  Gwen has been talking with the other stuffed animals, trying to see what they can do about the case from the outside without making it too obvious that something was off about the toys.
And Jasper?
He kneels by the case, working with Big Bear to try picking the lock.  One of the toys had said that they've seen on TV of humans using paperclips and the like to open locks, and while they didn't have any paperclips lying around, Jasper was willing to try using whatever was thin and small to wedge it into the keyhole.
"Annnnd..."  Big Bear holds him up silently, Jasper's arms working as he tries to hear a clicking sound from the lock.  Instead, he hears a snapping noise as the little plastic sword he was given breaks.  He sighs, pulling out the broken pieces and letting them drop to the floor.  "...nothing."
"Nothing?"  Another wooden soldier similar to him helps him out of Big Bear's paws and back onto the glass case ledge.  "Damn, I thought that would work."
"It was worth a shot.  I guess it really does have to be something metal?"
"Maybe."  The other soldier points him to the case.  "I'll keep looking around for other things to use.  Maybe the Barbie dolls have some things we can use.  The prince has been waiting for you, by the way."
"He has?"  Jasper perks up a bit, making his friend snicker at his eagerness.
"Yeah, keeps watching you trying to unlock their cage and making these scared gestures every time you looked like you were going to fall down.  Here he comes right now."
Right on cue, the prince comes to a halt by his side of the glass, hands pressed up against the glass as he looks over Jasper worriedly.  The blonde soldier salutes Jasper with a smirk before letting Big Bear carry him off to the floor.  
The prince knocks on the glass delicately, grabbing Jasper's attention.  Jasper smiles and presses his hand up on the glass in greeting.  The prince wastes no time in gesturing for Jasper to turn, making the brunette roll his eyes as he complies.  He turns on the spot slowly, showing to the prince that he is, once again, unharmed from his endeavor.  The prince's shoulders relax as he visibly lets out a sigh of relief, his smile more calm now that he's confirmed that Jasper was okay.
When there's nothing left for Jasper to do, he tends to find himself back in front of the prince.  Just like now, he sits down as the prince joins, happily watching as the ginger gestures wildly about something.  The prince is saying something, but his lips are moving too quickly for him to read his words, and despite not knowing what the hell he’s talking about, Jasper finds that he doesn't mind.  He's oddly satisfied with just watching how excited and happy the prince is, a warmth settling in his chest as he smiles and watches the prince no doubt recounting something he saw - the customers in the shop, a new thing he found in his castle maybe.  As if on cue, the prince pulls out a small flower from behind him.
It looks delicately made, a prop rather than a toy Jasper believes.  The prince gently clinks it to the glass, smiling sweetly as he looks to Jasper.  
Jasper places his hand over the spot of the flower, his own smile softening as he gazes into eyes greener than anything he's seen in the shop.  He wonders if there's green outside the shop that matches the shade the prince wears.
It must belong to something incredible, something as wonderful as the prince himself.  Jasper has always wanted to leave the shop, but he never really found a reason to leave himself when it was much easier to let a child pick him up and take him home.
There are wonders out in the outside world, he's sure of it.  Outside of this shop.
Outside of this case.
He wonders what the prince sounds like.  Gentle?  Strong?  A high voice?  Maybe a lower one?  What kind of laugh does he have?  
And how does his hand feel?  He's heard porcelain feels cold and hard, but when he looks at the prince and his soft features, he finds it hard to believe.
A knock on the glass brings his attention back to present.  And the other resident in the case looks to him with a smirk on her painted lips.  The prince greets her enthusiastically, and she softens her smirk into a smile, patting his hair carefully before gesturing for Jasper to follow her.  He follows after the princess, curious to see if she's found anything.  Instead, she just takes him to the corner of the case, pointing at the bottom corner with an eager grin.  He looks to her, a question in his eyes as he watches her kneel down and-
He yells as he presses himself up against the case, her fist colliding into the corner.  There's enough force to elicit a small crack in the corner, but as she pulls her hand back, he can see the hairline fractures that litter her hand.  The prince is losing his mind, taking her hand and turning it this way and that, frantic as he examines each crack carefully.  The princess shrugs off his concerns, shooing him away gently as she points to Jasper, and then to the damaged corner.
She wants him to... hit it?
Her smile widens as she takes her cracked fist and punches her own hand, and he swears he can hear the prince scream in fright.
He's not sure what she's planning, but if it'll keep her from punching at the glass like that...
Jasper lifts his own hand.  He can't ball it into a fist like the princess, but he sure as hell can jab as hard as he can.  With a quick thrust, he slams his hand into the corner.  Instead of creating more cracks, however, the corner bites into his hand and leaves a dent.  He pulls back, rubbing it with a hiss as he hears banging from the glass.  The prince looks downright horrified, and the princess herself looks guilty for even suggesting the idea.  But he's only made of wood, it's not like he'll shatter to pieces in an instant.  He waves his hands to show that he's fine, it's just a little dent, it's okay.  But the prince presses up against the glass and gestures desperately for Jasper to step as close as he can.  Knowing what he wants, he presses his damaged hand against the glass for the prince to see.  He turns it this way and that in accordance to the prince's gestures, and when the prince finally stills his hands, Jasper looks up to see that there's still worry and concern on his features.  Jasper taps at the glass lightly and smiles when the prince looks up at him.  With a little bonk, he presses his forehead against the glass.  An answering bonk from the other side is all Jasper needs to hear as he closes his eyes.
He's okay, it's alright.
He wants to comfort the prince with his words, but sometimes, all he can manage are these little actions.
Little movements that they've both used to replace those words that can't hear from one another.
And if Jasper were to press his hand up on the glass, he knows that the prince would do the same.
He's here for him.
And he won't be leaving any time soon.
\\\\
"So that lockpicking thing is a bust."  He sprawls out on Gwen's back, feeling as she moves across the store, looking around for other things they can use.  "But, the princess gave me a new idea."
"Did she now?"
"What if we just, broke the case open?"
"Then the old man would know something was up and freak out."  
"What about we break it a little.  Just a tiny bit."
"And that would help us... how?"
"Imagine this- thank you."  A toy dragon hands him a plastic shield.  He tosses it up and down, judging its weight and hoping for the best.  The dragon straightens up with a proud puff of her chest before ambling away.  "Anyway, so, if all the sound is trapped in that case with them, then if there's like, a little hole, wouldn't it technically be possible to talk with them better?"
"Just talk?"
"Yeah, Gwen!  It'd be easier to work with them, maybe see what they got in that castle of theirs and actually find out what's useful in getting them out."
"I guess so."  Gwen sticks her face into a toy house while Jasper waits.  "Hey is- oh there you are.  Did you find that-?  Oh thank you so much.  Yeah yeah, I promise to give you a ride tomorrow."  A static-like voice chirps happily inside the doll house as Gwen pulls back with a quarter in her mouth.  
"Nice!"
"Yeah well, one of us has to have a real plan."  Gwen tosses a smirk over her shoulder and clambers over to Big Bear, letting them pick her up onto the counter carefully.  "One of the toys thinks that if we push these buttons in the right order, it'll get the register to open up.  And in case it doesn't work, maybe money will do the trick."
"You've got a back-up plan for your real plan."
"Yeah, because my brain isn't just fluff, you block of wood."
"That's Over-Glorified Block of Wood to you."  Gwen merely snorts in response as he slides off of her.  
"Hey, hold on a sec."  Jasper comes up to her face with an idiom ringing in his head for his curiosity.  
"Got more than a quarter?"
"Yeah, actually."  She drops the coin and picks up a familiar car.  He drops the plastic shield and hugs the car to his chest.
"No way.  Where did you find this?"
"I didn't.  One of the other toys did."  She smirks as he rolls one of the wheels, testing it as it clicks back far enough to start speeding in the air.  "Didn't know what to do with it, so we kept it hidden behind the register."  Already, Jasper's mind is spinning up a new plan as he looks around the counter.
"Did they find tracks too or-?"
"I don't know if the old man has any laying around."
"We can improvise.  Those wooden train tracks- those gotta be around somewhere, right?"
"What are you planning now?"  Gwen slides the quarter to one of Legos hopping around the cash register.  "I don't think those ever got sold, but I haven't seen them in months."
"Maybe the Conductor knows.  He's hiding in one of the houses, isn't he?"  
"Probably.  Been moping since the old man took apart his whole setup.  But what are you planning?"
"Momentum."  He points to the ledge of the case to one of the shelves across the store.  Gwen looks between starting and ending points before looking down at Jasper's eager face.  And then bats his head.  "Hey!"
"You dumb block, it'll just fall apart in the middle!  What's going to keep the tracks up in the open air?!"
"Big Bear!"  The stuffed bear turns to them and Jasper quickly waves his hand at them.  "Nonono, don't worry, I don't need your help yet."
"Yet," she repeats dryly.  "What's Big Bear supposed to do?"
"Hold it up!"
"They can barely move from their spot - there's too much fluff, not enough stuffing to keep them upright for long!"
"But the other teddy bears manage to move just fine."
"That's because they're a normal size.  Big Bear is ginormous compared to everyone else, stuffed bears aside!"  She shakes her head with a frown.  "I don't think they'd be able to keep themselves standing, nevertheless the damn tracks."
"Aha, but what if..."  Jasper gestures to the chair behind the counter.  "...Chair?"
"...Will it be enough?"
"Now you're just being a sourpuss."  He ignores her hiss and gestures for Big Bear to come pick him up.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find the Conductor and hopefully get this show on the road!"
It's easy for Jasper to put his plan into action.  Ever since the dolls came to life and were stuck behind that glass case, every toy found it in them to try and do their best in getting them out.  Devising plans, working together, finding bits of forgotten and dropped items hiding under shelves for only the toys to find - each and every one of them was going to do anything it took to get those dolls out, even if it was only for the night.
So with the gray-haired Conductor leading the way, he was able to grab the old, dusty tracks and carefully start connecting the straight pieces together.  With the help of his fellow toy soldiers, they manage to shove and push the chair right in the middle of the small store.  Other toys pitch in, helping them nudge the chair in the right spot while a handful of the stuffed animals carefully guide Big Bear to their spot on the chair, plopping them upright and still.  Toys clamber about the store noisily as Big Bear holds up the unconnected middle part, a group on the counter carefully steadying the last section onto the ledge of the case, and Jasper's group carefully situated on the closest shelf to the counter and steadying the first section to match up with Big Bear's section.
Little toys clamber all over Big Bear as they climb up to the sections and carefully make sure that everything is connected and secure, before giving the thumbs up to Jasper.  Together, he and the rest of the soldiers pull back on the car as far as it can go.  He looks down towards the case and sees the prince pressed up against the glass, watching it all unfold as the register group continue on their problem solving venture.
Jasper knows this little plan of his won't free them.  He knows for a fact that Gwen's idea is the better of the two by a longshot.
But.
As he releases the car with his friends and watches it race down the wooden slope, he hopes at least.
At least the prince's voice can be freed.
And he can finally ask him what his name is.
A resounding crack greets everyone's ears as they all hold their breath.  Big Bear is the first to react, dropping their section of the bridge and having the stuffed animals guide them back to their place by the counter.  Jasper reacts next, ignoring the clatter of wood as he drops onto the cushion on the floor and races over to Big Bear.  Without him needing to say anything, the bear picks him up and gently places him on the ledge.  Jasper runs to where the car remains still by the case and holds his breath as he kneels down to assess the damage.  The princess is already there, looking excited as Jasper pulls the car away from the case.  It's... not quite shattered, but there are definitely cracks spidering out from the impact.  Jasper is ready to feel put out, because all that scheming certainly feels like a waste of optimism when he hears a knock grab his attention.  His eyes meet with a pair of golden ones as she balls her hands up and punches into the air.
She wants him to punch the glass again?  
Well, it might be weaker than before.  
He winds up his arm and jabs at the glass with all his might.  His wooden hand makes a soft "tink", but it ultimately does not go through.  He pulls his hand back, the springs in his wrist feeling a bit bent out of shape, similarly to his mood as the case refuses to give.  The princess frowns for a moment, before brightening and sitting down in front of Jasper.  He watches as she kicks out her leg, the bottoms of her shoe meeting the glass daintily with a tap.  At first, Jasper is prepared to shake his head, thinking that the results will just be the same.
But then he realizes that his foot is more solid.  More built than his feeble, pointed hand.  He can put more force into his kick.  He can rely on more than just the swing of his light arms to make a sad excuse for a punch.
He positions himself right by the crack, leaning back on his arms as he sucks in a deep breath and-
SMASH.
For a brief, wonderful moment, he feels time stop as he watches his foot break through the glass.  Cracks grow from the small break he makes, but he hardly finds them worth any worry as he pulls his leg back and immediately starts to clean the area of glass.  Cheers erupt from behind him as he shoves the glass down to the floor.
Finally.
Finally!
He's getting somewhere!
"David!  David, come over here!"  A voice he's never heard before calls out from inside the case, and he can hear her, a voice that's rich and deep with a slight thrum to it, nothing like he'd imagine her sounding, but her voice sounds right, feels right, it just matches her unwavering determination, the strength that she holds, which means, which means-
"Bonnie, he!  He did it!"
Jasper turns towards that little hole, that little hole that he made that gives him a glimpse into their little world, let's him hear them for the first time, hear him for the first time, and he's-
He sounds so wonderful.
Sweet, melodic, like he could burst into song at any moment, a bit higher than he'd imagine, but not so much that Jasper would miss how full of life and energy his voice holds.  The prince sounds a bit more nervous than he imagined, but that's normal, right?  Because, because Jasper is a little nervous too.  No more silence.
Just.
Being able to listen to him.  To each other.
Green eyes meet his blues, and he wonders, not for the first time, if his eyes were always meant to be painted such a vibrant green.  
"...Hey."
"Hi."
The prince smiles as he kneels in front of the hole, his voice finally, finally, carrying through, loud and clear, no longer muffled, no longer inaudible, but here, here for Jasper to listen to, he wants to listen to his voice forever if he could-
"I'm... My name is Prince David."
"You can call me Jasper."
Carefully, the prince- no, David, reaches through the hole, his porcelain hand real and beautiful and dainty and open for Jasper to take.  Jasper's own hand is nothing but a small, ovular block, nothing detailed like David's, nothing as carefully made and constructed like David's, but as he reaches forward hesitantly, he feels David grab his wooden hand like it's the most fragile material he's ever handled.  Small fingers trace the little dents and scratches that mar the surface of his hand, and he's handled so gently, so carefully that Jasper forgets that David is the more fragile of the pair.
"Jasper."  David breathes his name out like a precious treasure, and Jasper's breath gets caught in his throat.  "That's such a pretty name."
"Thanks, I... um, I chose it."  Green eyes stare at him curiously, and he thinks of that idiom that Gwen loathes for him to repeat out loud.
"Really?  You were made without a name?"
"Well... my entire group was made in bulk.  I mean, some of us were colored differently sure, but none of us had names.  And... we decided when we woke up that we should have names to make us feel more... individual.  And so it'd be easier to refer to each other without getting confused."
"How'd you come up with it?"
"...A little boy."  He remembers a small child from ages ago - dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, excitable, eager, curious of the world and all of its residents - picking him up with a grin, turning him this way and that as he debated with his mother on whether or not he could get another toy.  His mother put Jasper back on the shelf, but the little boy continued to stare with a promise in his eyes to one day take him home.
It’s been so long since he’s seen that little boy.  He can’t help but wonder how his namesake is doing, and if he ever remembered Jasper sitting here in the toy shop.
"A little boy had that name.  And I liked it.  So I named myself after him."
"Ohh."  David hums as he squeezes Jasper's hand.  "If he's your namesake, then I bet he was a good kid."
"I bet."  Jasper holds David's hand between his own, careful not to press too hard less he cracks something.  "I like your name too.  It's nice."
"I mean, it's not as special as yours.  I was made with mine.  Just like Bonnie."  He turns to wave at the princess behind him, the woman looking smug and proud as she waves back only to walk away.  
"I think it's special regardless."  Jasper brings David's hand up to his lips, breathing lightly on it as he looks into his eyes.  "It means your creator put thought into you.  You have a whole story to you, I bet."
"Maybe."  David laughs, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as Jasper sighs at the sight.  "But if you think that's all it takes to make it special then... then I'll take your word for it."
"Believe it," Jasper says with a wink, making David laugh again.  He's about to say something else when Gwen yowls a warning.
"The sun is rising!  Everyone, back to your shelves!"  
Jasper drops the hand he was about to kiss quickly, looking over to Big Bear as they begin lowering the other toys first.
"...I should get going."
"Oh, right."  David looks as downtrodden as Jasper feels, but he places his hand over the glass, right where he imagines he could cup David's cheek to comfort him.  At least now, he can say words of comfort, even if he can't fully touch him just yet.
"Hey."  He smiles, bright and full of hope for the days to come.  "I'll talk to you again later, okay?"
"...Okay."  David places his hand against the glass, smiling with Jasper as neither of them pull away.  "I can't wait to talk to you again."
“Same.”  Jasper presses his forehead up against the glass and closes his eyes.  He doesn’t need to open them to know that David follows in suit.
Because there are just some things that words can’t replace.  Small gestures.  Small movements that words just can’t encapsulate well enough.
And sure, maybe there’s a glass wall between them now.
But soon.
Soon.
He’ll find a way to free them both for good.
17 notes · View notes
wispandwhispers · 4 years
Text
moonboy
Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, qpr dukeceit
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Tw(s): Cursing, torture, blood, slightly unsympathetic remy for a bit, implied unrequited love, crying.
Words: 4412
Notes: This is so late I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna write for the next week. Christ.
The moment Roman pulled away, Virgil slapped him across the face.
"Why did you do that?" Lunapuer's query came out in staggered breaths, the type filled by adrenaline. He backed away from the other slowly. "Why. Did. You. Do. That?"
Shit. Should of asked for consent first.
"I don't know really, I thought that It would be romantic?"
The emo has started to pace around the room, "This doesn't make sense. You  hate me. You despise the fact I breathe, you design a personalised ring of Dante's inferno to try and drive me to my tipping point." He whipped his head to face Roman, eyes voids of chaotic madness, of stars and nebulas and galaxies and everything beyond. The couch, coffee table and various other furniture had begun to slowly rise into the air, shaking with the distress that the boy must feel and almost primed to obliterate whatever was causing Virgil distress.
If I touched one of those floaty things, would get the galaxy on me?
"Why the fuck would you kiss me?" The tension wasn't thick, it was more sluggish. Harder to move through, harder to navigate and so much harder to leave. Roman was starting to feel ..disturbed ..by this and maybe he was starting to realise that Lunaper was..not normal.
Wait Lunapuer. Luna Puer. Moon Child. What?
"What..are you?"
A long lingering glare.
"I think it would be time for you to stare into my -"
The sound of a metal knocker hitting  wood to the tune of One Jump Ahead interrupted the emo's train of thought.
Virgil eyes died down, putting his planned smiting on hold. He walked over to the source of the knocking and opened the front door to be met with a kid who couldn't be just anything more than a year older than him. And he wasn't being Xia's older brother.
Recognising him, Roman got off the floor and ran up to him, wrapping him in a hug. The boy hugged him back.
"Thomas, you know I love you but why exactly are you here?"
"I'll answer that when you tell me who you brought home. And why the couch is floating. But first the boy?"
Xia gave the emo a shaky grin, trying to mentally concoct a sentence that wouldn't immediately get him killed.
"Umm, Thomas this is Virgil, Virgil this is Thomas."
Despite Virgil only putting his hand out for a hand sake, Xia's cup his face and stare into his eyes.
"How 'bout on the beach...."
"On the beach for what?"
"For the wedd...," He noticed  Roman's 'Not now' hand signal "..ling. Yeah for Wedling."
Thomas ignored the emo's confused facial expression.
"Anyway, Dad  wants me to babysit you."
"What the fuck, I'm sixteen, I don't need supervision. I'm practically an adult."
(Thomas crouched down slightly so he was on Roman's eye level. "You and me both know that we barely have the cooking skills to cook a cup of ramen.")
("Ha, I'm calling you Ramen now, you don't have a choice.")
Thomas stood back up.
"That's what I said, but Remus' is going to need a fucking good lawyer for him to have a chance to see the light of day again."
"That bad? God.."
While the family was trying to figure out what they were going to do, Virgil put back on his jacket.
"Not to interrupt this lovely familial bonding moment but Remus isn't going to need a lawyer."
Thomas looked over to Virgil in shock.
"Oh yeah, Virgil, meet my elder brother Thomas and Thomas meet my ex- arch nemesis, who recently tried to kill/brainwash me, Virgil."
****
"It's my car, why can't I drive?"
Lunaper opened the clicked it open with his key.
"Without me, you won't be able to find Remy , ergo you won't be able to prove your brother's innocence . Also you've put me in a bad mood, so if you don't want me to finish what I started in the living room, I suggest you shut up."
During the emo's rant, the car had proceeded to float about a foot of the ground and the lifter's eyes seemed to be smoking with cosmos.
("I call shotgun!" Thomas ran to the front seat like a child.)
Roman, you can't get yourself killed, you haven't married him.
Xia climbed into the backseat.
"Fine but be gentle with it."
("I'll be gentle until I have to be rough with it.")
("What?")
(Virgil didn't respond.)
******
(Roman and Thomas talk to each other in the back about men.)
ThomasTheDankEngine: ...you're a bottom..
I'mRoyalty: Wtf, why would you even assume that?
ThomasTheDankEngine: So I didn't walk into a scene in the room? Cause you really seem to like him at least from what I've gathered (aha, you didn't deny liking him though)
I'mRoyalty:  (Yes, I am attracted to the most beautiful creation on earth, leave me alone )You were barely in the house for 5 minutes,you couldn't have gathered any 'data'
ThomasTheDankEngine: The 'data' I have collected is the visuals of your eyes undressing him, you horny bastard.
I'mRoyalty: Hey, at least I'm not a Remus level of horny
ThomasTheDankEngine : Fair enough. On a different note, you are aware that your crush isn't even hitting the gas pedal. He's just staring at the road and moving the steering wheel. I'm calling it now, he's an alien
I'mRoyalty: Tbh, I don't think he even knows what he is. And I don't really care, I just want to kiss him. And marry him. And all that other couple stuff.
******
"Um, Virgil, why are we at the Station?"
"I don't know either..."
Unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping outside into the semi cool spring air, the trio made there way over to the police station door.
"Shit, is Pa actually crying?"
"Yeah, he's not doing that well.."
Thomas turned the younger.
"Okay, lets go in before I have an attack over this."
Roman could almost see Lunapuer eyes widen in realisation of something. Roman couldn't put his finger on it.
He isn't moving..
"Hey, Virgil, aren't you coming with us?"
The emo's neck turned.
"To your parents, I'm just some random ass kid with glitchy irises. I'm not immediate family so I don't have a fucking right to be inside."
"You'll be ok though?"
"Is that even a question. I'm never ok, I promise."
*****
The squeaky floors of the centre made Roman feel uncomfortable ,like they had to always clear up...something.
(He would leave the empty gap up to his brother. It was more his forte.)
Walking pass the seemingly pissed officer (who let them move after they were patted down and had stayed their full names, they were met with the face of -
Dad spotted us, time to use those lessons from Jan now.
Their Dad ran up to them and held there faces, almost like they would fade away into nothingness the minute they let go.
"Why the flipping fuck are you here?"
Okay, Dad can curse, my life is a lie.
"Me And Thomas wanted to see Remus." Roman stopped on his elder's foot, code for 'play along'.
The parent stepped back and only know he could see his Dad's dishevelled hair that was rash and messed up that looked like the type you would have after years on end of stress despite the fact when it was neat hours ago.
"Look, I would prefer you here for moral support and all that jazz but your brother and his partner have basically secured their cell, they keep on ranting about how there was a lemon fic -whatever that means- about you and hypnotism and Remington apparently being the reason why they are in this fucking mess- DO YOU ANY IDEA WHAT THIS NONSENSE MEANS!"
I know what it means but I don't need to chucked to Picani's for a session.
Thomas seemed to get the 'we got the information we need, let's roll' signal.
"Oh, shit, I think I left the the oven running, Roman let's roll."
("I new that theatre major would come in handy.")
"Come back when you're done!"
("Anyway, I don't understand what's happening or what you know so you fill him in."
"Okay!"
("I don't really have a choice anyway.")
******
"Get in the fucking car, we are going to cut a bitch."
******
Virgil parked the car at the opposite side of the road.He slammed it so hard that it dented its inside and he had probably broken the door, but Roman wasn't going to comment about that because he feared the earth that was contained in his crush.
He rushed over to Zenith who was laying in the sand of the bay, casually scrolling through his feed with a Starbucks cup in hand and not like the government had just pronounced him dead.
He noticed the angry man in purple charging towards him.
"Virgie, did you see-"
"Cut me none of that 'Virgie' bullshit Remington, you blackmailed someone into silence, you know you aren't allowed to abuse you abilities like that."
Remy pushed down the bridge of sunglasses, revealing his eyes that seemed even more chaotic than Lunapuer's but floating with clouds instead of space.
"This isn't some game anymore, people I care-"
("You care about my brother and Janus")
("While you were being a shit bag to me, I had to find someone who would show me where my classrooms were.")
"back to what I was saying- People I care about are going to suffer serious consequences for crap you should pay the price for-wait, why did Jan and Rem even try to drown you in the first place?"
The glasses are off, what does it mean?
"Cousin, if you think you are big enough to say my full name then you are big enough to deal with the consequences of my coffee break."
("Why the fuck are you having coffee so late?")
("You've seen me off caffeine. I'm not exactly a sane person."
"I don't even want to fight you because I might actually kill you."
Remy looked over his shoulder to see the setting sun glistening over the water he was supposedly dead in.
"(Oh, shit) Look, cuz-"
Where Virgil's eye sockets should be were replaced with a empty caverns of galaxy that was literally choking his cousin. The tendrils of the universe snaked up his neck and grasped onto it.
"C͈̈́Á͖͔͊L̢̖̘̎̄̉̿̓͟͢L̢̢̽̆ ͚͔̩̀̿̒MȆ̡̢̛̖͖̇͞ ̰̠̘̫͑̎̈́̄A ͇̖̙̽̐̓Ñ̜I̡̢͉̝͌̒̌̎C̗͛K̰͊Ň͔̮̘͚͙̎͗̇̄Ȃ̧̱̩͌̓M̰̙̰̿̉͡Ȩ̗̅͛ ̗̒O̡̡̟̜͛̄̃̽NE̗͉͇̿̎͌ ̩̲͛̆̽͟M̹̬͖̔̕̕O̮͖͍̝͑̈̓͆̽͢Ṟ̢̙̊̔̃E ̨̘͆̍T͇͐Ḭ͎̼͛̅̂M̻̠̩̾̆̈́E, ͔̥̭̜̎̽̄͡I͉͎̟̒̅̎͞ͅ ̛̛͉̼̪͇̎͡D̨̩̋̀A̼̒R̺͠E̬͎̓́ ͓̰̭͓͛͋͊͡Ÿ̙̭̱̐̊Ò͖͚̞͑̊̕ͅỦ̙̻̌!"
("So you have a a crush on a homicidal mystery man who is also a magical boy?")
(Roman just glared at his brother.)
"I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU FROM HIM!"
The turn of a necks in synchrony shattered the waves of the river bed they were on. Time was an illusion and two seconds could of passed and no one could tell the difference.
Zenith decided to break the peace.
"LOOK, I CARE ABOUT YOU, I ACTUALLY DO AND I'M NOT GONNA YOU FALL FOR A HEARTBREAKER ON MY WATCH!"
Virgil likes me back. VIRGIL ACTUALLY LIKES ME BACK!?
Lunapuer eyebrow lowered in concentration almost.
"N͙̤̹͚͂͌͐̕O͍͡ M̧͍̲̓̍̇Ą̠̻̤́̈̿́T͔̣̾͐T͓̙͉̈́̀̍Ę̥̠̻͚̏̍̓͊͝R̙̺̠̯̾̑̾̕ ̥̱̋̂Ẅ̨̞̜̉̊HAT̡̥͇͂́̈́̕͜ ̮͖͙̼̻̓̑̕̕͝R̨͓̾̓Ã͔͔̰̻̫͆̃͐̂ME̫͔̻̻͗̑́͡N͈̱̒͑ ̲̗̣̓́̌̆͜Ḋ̠ID ͍̻̣͕̎̍͂͡T̬̙̩̓̀͑O̙̘̻̓̍͂ ͙̺͈͈̀̃̀̑̽͟Y̺̖̖̻̍͛̋͛Ǒ̦͖̀̂͢U̱͊,̤͓͂̉ ̘̳̄̊Í̥̺̕T̠͂ ͔͚͋̑D̲̀̑͢OĚ̝̝̣̏̊S̖̆N̲͕̕͞'̛͙̝̜̎͐T̨̲̲͉͒͆̂̍ ̝̭̬͕̾̈́̌͡Ģ̊I̢̢͍͊͐̊VE̥͕̾͛ ̝͌Ỹ̨̪͕͕̒̋̿OŮ̩͕̯̆̍ ̧̩̗̙̒̑͋̚A̘̜̙͊͝͝Ņ͉̽͆̈́͟Ý̞̣͔̩̂̄͠ ̯̀RI̲͚͔͔̔͆̃́Ģ̲̫̈̔̕HṬ̓ ͙̼͚̫̱͆̒͐͠͡Ţ͈͇͗͑̈O ̹̹̹͂̀͂D̛̠̖̍̅͟O̧͔͗͠ ̛̦W̖͇̹̮͊̌̊͆H͎̉A̩̫͇̽̅͊͜͠T̬̙͔̞̑͛͑̈́͗͢ ̖͖͉͂̆̈Y̯͚͓̜̣̆̈̀͊͊O̡̅Ṳ̜͕̈́̔͆ ̢̤̞͆̕͝D̢̡͈͙̤͗͊̃̽̍I̛͕̱̾D̯̃̓͟!"
The gripping got tighter.
"Plea-se, pleas-e, I am fully aware I am a cunt pile and don't even deserve redemption in the slightest, but let me live and maybe I can make it up to you."
For a single second, it looked like Virgil was genuinely going to finish off the job that Rem and Jan failed to do. But me showed mercy.
His eyes died down.
"Get in the back, use your powers to make today seem like one long ass fever dream, help us break Re and Jay out of prison and maybe you'll see the sunrise."
Remington picked up his shades and went to the back seat.
'Ramen' was shocked.
"Why exactly did you let him go?"
"As long as the moon is out, He will be the one worrying."
******
"Psst, Janus!"
No response.
"La Snits!"
"Remus had spiked my drink and I was high off my ass, wait why are you here?"
Janus turned his head to be met with Roman who was currently picking the lock on his cell.
"I'm getting really sick and tired of people asking that."
The lock mechanisms chimed open.
"Okay, listen: Virgil and Remy have powers that I don't even think they know how to control and are using them to put the whole town asleep. Your hypnotism made me have a 'veil' and made me hate Virgil for about two months. I'm back to normal now. Remy has apologised for blackmailing me and has promised to destroy you-know-what. And- What what happened to your face?"
Xia just noticed Vales face that a scar the look creepily akin to snake scales. It covered about half of it and it was still bleeding, not even looking like it would scab over.
"There is more than one reason why I am Zeneith's body should be at that bottom of the ocean currently."
How strong is Remy exactly?
"Kayyyy, lets get to your-"
"Jan!"
"Rem!"
Remus skidded against the floor, just in his socks to his partner.
"Look, my older brother is stopping me from deforming Starbuck slut's body because that's immoral or some shit and I really , really am sorry that we got caught. How was I supposed to know the fucker could respawn-"
"You're shaking."
And the hypnotist was right, Remus was practically vibrating.
"I'm fine , I just want to have Remy's intestines in my hands, that's it."
"Look, I'm not getting sappy in public but I don't really want a repeat of Canada,"
("Canada?!")
"So can you please calm down for me?"
Remus pouted like a four year old.
"If I do this, I get to kill him later,"
"Of course you can."
Janus may of then talked to Remus about his lack of shoes and maybe given him a piggy back because he was kind of tired, Roman wouldn't know. He was just looking listening to their happiness and feeling happy for his brother.
The hell ,Thomas?
The more mature brother ( his father's words , not his) was floating with the sir, accompanied by the galaxy aura thing that Virgil had.
"So because I stopped Remus from literally murdering Remy Virgil gave me floaty shoes. And Remy kind of apologised to him for something, I don't really understand, but floaty shoes!"
Roman just stared as his elder fanboying in awe of his newly acquired footwear, wondering how the fuck is he older than him.
"Remy won't need to worry, Janus has gotten him to calm down a little. I would say that he has a week left to live though."
"Wow, this day could of gone to shit but it didn't, it's almost like some omnipotent voice is going to say 'And they lived happily after' "
And with every happily ever after ,you get your true love as well.
"The stars are aligning!"
"What?"
Virgil seemed to just materialize out of nowhere, and even in the prison grade lighting, he was still the most beautiful thing Roman had ever left his eyes on. Even in the crappy yellow coming from the ceiling, he still shone like a the stars laced in the sky.
Roman stepped forward and took his hand, holding it loose enough that he could pull back at any time given.
"You know, The boys everyone made up with each other, except me and you and today has almost been perfect I'm just waiting for...you..."
Virgil slipped his hand out of Roman to return it to  his side.
"Princey," He took a long pause, trying to find those right words "Life isn't like a Disney movie, it doesn't have a structured plot and it doesn't move at the speed you need it to. Not everything and everyone is going to make you happy because that's just how life is, lots of people getting fucked over. Janus and Remus might of forgiven you and I might of forgiven Remy for what he did but I experienced hell from you and even if that veil made you do dumb shit, I am still recovering from it. And yes I did like you, you are cute and handsome and funny and just a great guy but I can't have a relationship with you after the shit you did to me. But I can agree to try and move pass that."
Lunapuer shook out his hand.
"Deal?"
Roman shook it.
******
"Turn to page 37 on your-"
The bell broker up the music theory teacher's instructions.
"Remember to memorise the sheet for the 18th of .."
Roman didn't get the last of what he said, he rushed out the classroom to meet Virgil at his locker near Homeroom.
"Umm, here you go."
The sound of hard plastic hit the public school quality(shit) metal.
"Why did you buy these for me exactly?"
"Well, you're always listening to Starchild-"
"Starkid, It's Starkid."
How could you mess that up, dumbass.
"Yep, anyway, and I decided to buy you a a latest pair of headphones to try out. I even paid extra for it in purple and black."
The emo picked up the the case and looked at it and eyes widen when he saw the price of it.
"God, Princey, I don't know really what to say-"
"You don't have to say a single thing, this was a gift out of the kindness of my own-"
"But I can I have the receipt?"
"WHAT!"
He picked up the case and gave it back to the giver.
"These are so fucking amazing and just really nice and cool but I can't do these, I use earphones 'cause I like to fiddle with the wires, they ground me when I have my weekly existential crisis/panic attack and slow down the spiralling a little."
Roman just stood there stunned.
"You spent a lot of money on this and I am just putting it to waste but giving it back to you but I just feel more comfortable with wires, I guess."
Taking his artbook out of his locker for the period right after Lunch, he gave Xia a two finger salute and made the journey to the food hall.
A still stunned Roman concocted a solution to the problem of the gift he had bought.
******
Virgil walked into class the next day wearing purple earphones instead of white and hugged Roman.
The class promptly checked Lunaper for a fever.
******
"Kiddo, why are you up so late?"
"You don't really have a right to talk, you're the one whose up as well."
Roman's Dad reaches for the shelf.
"Wanna cookie?"
"Nah, I'm already had my 2am snack."
A little snort filled the still kitchen.
"You know, that reminds me of those weird dreams your father's been having since we were a king."
"What dreams?"
Roman scooted forward on his stool not to miss out of any of the tail.
"He always had these.. lucid dreams of a reality where we all lived together in Thomas' head."
"You're joking!"
"No I'm not, It's actually the reason why we picked Thomas from the orphanage, he had had  fantasies of us looking after him and guiding him through life. We all had his face as well, I don't really understand it either."
He promptly shoved a cookie in his mouth.
"Anything else?"
The father figure paused his snacking.
"Look, If you are telling me a fable of us protecting Thomas, you better deliver on it."
"It's not really a fable, it's just Logie's imagination running wild. Anyway in the world we all had jobs, like your Dad was logic and a teacher, I was morality and a dad, you and your brother were a prince and a duke respectively and were both creativity."
Roman snorted the milk he was drinking.
"Oh, God these are so weird. I know me and Remus used to make believe play a lot as a kid but like that's so far fetched!"
His father joined in the cackling.
After a few moments of them calming down, Roman queried his Dad.
"If in some weird fever dream Pa has , I can be a prince, do you think I can get my happily ever after as well?"
The ran had started to splash against the window, making a faint tapping noise in the distance.
"Life won't always give you strict  fairy-tale endings, but you can try and sculpt your ending so it makes you happy. "
******
"Princey, !"
"Why are you whispering?"
"Just come here you Disney reject."
"So I can't call you nicknames/insults but you can?"
"Life's not fair, get used to it."
Virgil passed him a note with some numbers on them.
"Can you god to my locker and get the book out of it?"
Roman obeyed said instructions and returned with a copy of Moby Dick.
"You never struck me as the type to read the 'Classics'."
"Yeah, 'cause I'm not." Virgil proceeded to open the book inside to find it was a shell that had-
Are those drugs?
"No they're not, fuuc.."
Lunapuer started to rub his temples akin to how you would if you had a headache or a brain freeze.
Xia knitted his eyebrows together, trying to plan his next step.
Can you hear my thoughts?
"Wow, I wonder why I responded when you said the pills were drugs."
"Woe is me for asking that apparently!"
"Look Ramen, the eclipse is coming in like three hours and I have the worst headache of the century. I use sass and sarcasm as a coping mechanism when I don't know what to say, so bare with me for the time being."
Roman scorched up next to his friend/crush/he didn't even know at this point.
"It would be nice if you enlighten me to how you can suddenly read my mind, but you don't have to."
"I can't really describe it, my brain almost starts cheat coding reality and I can hear voices suddenly that usually I can't. And if I use any of powers, they are so destructive that I could probably shatter the school by just touching the floor."
Xia just listened patiently, taking in his little pupils which were currently flickering from space mode and back to normal.
"So I'm guessing that Remy wears shades all the time because someone is always dreaming or something.."
"Yeah kinda...Ramen can I ask you for another favour?"
It's not even sure I could say no to you. I'm pretty sure the fabric of my being would be ripped apart.
(The emo may or not have looked away with a red tint in his cheeks)
"Yeah, what do you want?"
"I don't even think that I can make it back to class-I'll probably pass out anyway-can you get me to my bag and get me too the office?"
Before Virgil had even finished the sentence, Roman was already carrying him bridal style.
"Hey ,what the fuck?"
"You said you needed to get to the office, the quickest way is for me to get you there."
"What about my bag?"
"You're more important and I'll get it later."
Lunapuer didn't respond.
******
"Why did your dad introduce himself to me by giving a compliment wrapped in a insult?"
"It's just a thing he does, I don't think I've ever seen him introduce himself to anyone normal."
******
"What are you doing here, you should be out there, channeling your inner thespian or whatever.."
Just the muffled calamity of the drama hall could be heard. Also the pitter patter of Roman's tears.
"Shit, you're crying, why the fuck are you crying, did I do something wrong, God I knew I am a piece of shit, should I-
“No, It’s not your fault.”
Even if Roman’s face was currently leaking like a broken faucet, he still managed to have a steady voice by some miracle.
Virgil scooted over to the to the wall where Ramen’s  back was on, looking above him to see the poster for the end of year play of Beauty and the Beast.
“You think you flopped it, don’t you?”
“Wow, I must be so easy to read, the queer theatre kid who never was able to make that part in the school play they always wanted. Next thing you know I’ll go insane and sell my soul to for something symbolic like a crown.”
“You’re queer?”
(The splashes of Roman’s tears just got more intense.)
“Yeah, I don’t really want to put a label on myself yet.”
(Some screamed ‘Next’. It was most likely a student trying to fuck with the drama teacher.)
“Well, I’m questioning still, I kind of like almost anyone. It’s confusing.”
Almost on cue with the end of Virgil’s statement, Roman started to ugly cry.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck why are you even here?”
“I was looking for you actually, Princey. I kind of got into a big fight with Remus over something and I came to you so we could vibe together.”
Even though Xia’s tears looked strong enough to break a dam, his mouth seemed to curl upwards.
“Look, that’s really nice but I don’t deserve you here, I fucked up a basic ass song and now I’m going to be casted as grass #4.”
“Ramen, I’m not leaving until you agree to brood with me.”
“I would really prefer if you didn’t refer me as a food stuff.”
“Roman!” And the tears stopped flowing. And the crude acting in the background stopped moving . And the clock stopped moving and life and death themselves had seemed to pause. Roman didn’t care if this was Virgil’s powers at work or someone had spiked his water bottle because the fact that he was so closed to his face and now he could see the condensed universe in his eyes made all the pain just drain away. The atmosphere was tense like almost the way that his ..better dreams with the boy dressed in stars would start.
“Roman I don’t like seeing you sad, but I know emotions don’t work like that.. And I’m pissed at your brother and I don’t know how to deal with that...”
Roman’s face and Virgil were a little bit close for comfort
“You said you wanted us to brood together., let’s do it.”
Virgil was the one to pull Roman’s shirt and claim his lips.
7 notes · View notes
stahlop · 5 years
Text
Winner Takes it All (1/1)
Must Love Dogs is not going to be ready today, hopefully it will be ready by tomorrow. But in the meantime, here is a little one shot I wrote. 
So this was a prompt I had sent someone when I first got onto Tumblr and never had any intention of trying to write fanfic on my own. But now I am writing fanfic, so I decided to write the idea myself. Enjoy.
And as usual, thank you @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta and helping me make this fic come to life!
Ao3
Rated: G
It was ridiculous is what it was. Emma Swan and Killian Jones were most definitely dating. Ruby had seen them cuddling in a booth together at Granny’s. Mary Margaret had seen them sneaking away from one of the town meetings together. David said that Killian had brought Emma as his date for a work function, but Emma claimed they were just friends and she was  only there for the free food. Duh! And that was the rub, Emma and Killian claimed they were just friends. Friends who did everything together, including sleeping over at each other’s apartments and (according to Emma’s roommate, Elsa) sharing a bed on most nights.
Their friend group had been betting for months on when Emma and Killian would finally let them know they were dating. It had started small. Ruby claimed they were dating and David said they weren’t. She’d bet him 20 bucks that they’d be kissing in front of everyone by the end of the week. But it never happened. David wanted his 20 bucks. Ruby doubled down. Then Mary Margaret wanted in. She believed they were dating too. Eventually, everyone in their little group of friends became convinced it was true, even David. So now the bet wasn’t about whether they were dating or not, it was when the hell Emma and Killian were finally going to come clean about it.
It was Ruby who laid out the rules of the bet. Each person involved would pick out a date for the month. Whomever got the closest would win the money. And no one was allowed to try to manipulate Emma and Killian into revealing themselves or tell them about the bet to increase their chances. After five months, the pot was up to $2000.
Elsa was sure that she had it in the bag in February because of Valentine’s Day (month three of the bet). How could two people so obviously in love not share that with everyone? But no, they joined the group for the late night drinking binge they always went on after the couples in their group (David and Mary Margaret and Ruby and Mulan) had their obligatory dates and came to join the singletons. Emma bitched as usual about not needing a man and what a stupid, made up holiday it was, and Killian nodded in agreement and went home early to wallow. Emma and Elsa went back to their apartment, both as single women.
David really thought he’d had it in the bag with that work function Killian brought Emma to in month four, but Emma seemed to be flirting with Graham of all people. Graham who was most definitely dating August from accounting. And Killian seemed to be flirting with Tink, whom David was pretty sure also had a boyfriend. When David had asked Killian why he had brought Emma even though a) a date was not required at this event and b) they seemed to be ignoring each other the whole time, Killian had simply shrugged, run his fingers through his dark hair and said “Who better to ignore at a party than your best friend?”
“I think they know about the bet.” Elsa said once they started into month seven, sliding into the booth that contained David and Mary Margaret on the other side. Mary Margaret knocked her coffee mug over.
“Shoot, sorry.” Mary Margaret said grabbing some napkins from the dispenser to clean up the mess she’d just made on the table. “Why do you think she knows?” Mary Margaret continued.
“Because Liam made some comment to Killian about setting him up with Aurora, kind of as a thank you, and Killian said he wasn’t interested.” Elsa and Liam, Killian’s brother, had recently started seeing each other. It was still new, but they were already pretty obsessed with each other. Emma and Killian, of all people, had set them up.
“So why does that mean he knows about the bet?” David asked, taking a sip of his Coke. Liam was not part of the betting pool, having just learned about it from Elsa when they started dating.
“Because then Liam suggested that maybe Killian wasn’t interested because he was already seeing Emma, and Liam said his eyebrows almost flew off his face with how high he raised them, ‘quickly schooled his features’ --Liam’s words, not mine-- and told Liam he was being preposterous.” Elsa finished explaining.
“Again,” Mary Margaret began, grabbing the soiled paper napkins and throwing them into a garbage can near the entrance of the diner, “that doesn’t tell us they know about the bet. Just that someone else thinks that he and Emma are dating and they won’t admit it.”
“And then,” Elsa said, getting frustrated at Mary Margaret for all the interruptions, “Killian responded with, I bet you think you’re so clever.”
“They totally know about the bet.” David agreed.
“They totally know about the bet.” Elsa repeated.
They called an emergency group meeting at The Rabbit Hole after that revelation. David, Mary Margaret, Elsa, Ruby, Mulan, and Will (he was their regular bartender, but even he could tell they’d been shagging for months now).
“We need to force this out in the open. They know about the bet. Who knows how long they’ve known about it. I think they’re just messing with us now.” Elsa said.
“Did we just step into an episode of Friends, because I swear I’ve seen this one,” Ruby stated.
“Maybe we should just give everyone their money back and just let them be,” Mulan asserted.
“No way!” Elsa exclaimed, “We’ve been invested in this for too long now.”
“Well, what are you suggesting? Setting them up with other people? They’ll either say no or they’ll agree and flirt like crazy with the person. We’ve already seen it happen.” David said.
“What if we can get them to admit it to someone not associated with us at all, and then we can, I don’t know, catch them in the act,” Elsa proposed.
“And how, exactly, do we plan on doing that?” Mary Margaret asked, getting frustrated over this whole thing.
“Well, Liam is pretty sure that Killian and Emma go on dates out of town. If we can figure out where and get someone from the restaurant to get us pictures, then we have them!” Elsa concluded. She knew they were having sex. She shared a wall with Emma for crying out loud. And ever since she started dating Liam, Killian had been out of the apartment a lot more.
“I’m sorry, what?” Mary Margaret balked at the notion of spying on Emma and Killian, “When did we become private eyes? Isn’t that Emma’s department? Seriously, Elsa, this is getting way out of hand.” Emma was Mary Margaret’s best friend. She hated that Emma hadn’t told anyone about dating Killian, but it was still up to Emma to let them know on her own time, not when Elsa decided to out them by playing super sleuth.
“What do you suggest then, Mary Margaret?” Elsa said, turning on her with an annoyed glare.
“How ‘bout asking them why they’re holding hands right now.” Will butted in from the bar.
The group turned toward the entrance. There were Emma and Killian, casually walking in holding hands and mooning over each other as if no one else in the bar existed.
“Hey you two.” Elsa said trying to sound casual. The rest of the group also mumbled their hellos as if they hadn’t just been discussing the two obvious lovebirds.
“Look,” Emma began, “I know you all have suspected that Killian and I have been dating.” The group held their breath waiting for the excuse that they knew was coming. “And we are here to officially tell you that we are in fact dating.” Killian finished. He and Emma looked at each other, smiled, and then shared a chaste kiss on the lips for their group of friends to see.
Elsa’s mouth was agape. “You’re just admitting it? I mean,” she tried to recover gracefully, “how long has this been going on? We had no idea.” Ruby started cackling in the background. Mulan gave her a good elbow to the ribs to quiet her down.
“It’s been going on for a few months.” Emma said a little anxiously, “We just didn’t want to say anything right away because it was new, and if it didn’t work out we didn’t need you guys all up in our business.”
“Of course. Emma, Killian, we’re so happy for you.” Mary Margaret said, practically in tears. She went to hug both of them.
“Too bad Liam isn’t here.” Elsa stated, “He would love to know that you two were together. He’s been rooting for you.”
“Um, yeah, about that,” Killian said, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tic they all knew about, “He does know, Elsa. We asked him not to tell you because we were keeping it to ourselves.” Once again, Elsa’s mouth dropped.
They decided drinks were in order for the newly-outed couple. No one said a word about the bet. Elsa claimed she’d be having some words with Liam when she saw him later that night, but she’d had quite a bit to drink, so by the time Liam came and joined them, she was in no position to even form a coherent sentence.
“I’m glad you two have finally decided to stop this nonsense and share your happiness with us all, little brother,” Liam said clapping Killian on the back and giving Emma a quick hug.
“Younger brother,” he said but with very little bite.
It was just Emma and Killian and Mary Margaret and David left by the time the bar closed.  Will was in the back counting out the till and David, who had barely drunk anything, left to go get the car.
“So,” Killian said, quirking his eyebrow at Mary Margaret, “how much did you win?”
“I think the pot was up to $2500. So,” Mary Margaret calculated in her head, “$1250 is half. I’ll let you know when I get it from Ruby. She’s been in charge of the money,” she said as if this were an ordinary, everyday financial transaction.
“Good job on getting Liam to make Elsa suspect,” Mary Margaret said to the happy couple.
“She’d been driving me crazy!” Emma said, “Dropping hints left and right about Killian and me. But I knew we could hold off longer until the pot was more significant. Thanks for letting us in on it.” Emma grinned.
“Well, it’s not like I meant to. It was a simple slip up. Besides, you know how well I can keep a secret,” Mary Margaret said, trying to defend herself. Emma and Killian had told her and Liam after they’d been dating for two months, needing someone each of them could confide in. Telling them about the bet had been a complete accident.
“I’m so happy for you two.” Mary Margaret told them. And she was. They had basically been living a rom-com for the past year; one about best friends who were seriously pining for one another.
“Darn it, I guess Ruby gets the money.” Mary Margaret added absent-mindedly.
“What money?” Emma had asked. Mary Margaret turned bright red.
“Um….” She wasn’t sure how to answer.
“Did you have a wager with Ruby about us getting together?” Killian asked looking appalled.
“Not exactly.” Mary Margaret said looking down at her hands.
“Then what exactly?” Emma asked getting agitated.
“Um ...the whole group was betting on when you two would finally admit you were dating. Even Will was in on it.” Mary Margaret confessed.
But instead of getting angrier, Emma and Killian had turned to one another and laughed.
“Mary Margaret, how would you like to make some money?” Emma said, green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You ready to go, Mary Margaret?” David asked coming back in from outside startling Mary Margaret out of her reverie.
“Yep.” She said, scooting off the stool and walking over to her husband. They exited the bar leaving the happy couple behind.
“Well, that was exciting.” Killian said grabbing Emma’s hand. He took it to his lips to kiss the knuckles.
“We’re really going to need that money, considering.” Emma said taking her other hand and brushing her slightly rounded stomach. “I’m surprised no one noticed you drinking my shots tonight.”
She grinned at the new secret they were hiding.
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!
@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89
73 notes · View notes
murkrees · 5 years
Text
call me, maybe; johnny seo ft. yuta & jaehyun
summary: “i’m scared to walk home alone in the dark and every one of my contacts are either busy or not answering so my desperate ass googled up call boy numbers and you answered but I have to explain to you that I don’t want sex I just want to talk to somebody!”
pairing: johnny x reader
genre: office! au, call boy! au, fluff
You walked through the halls of the office, papers in one hand and a cup of steaming coffee in another. You sent warm smiles to the few amount of people who passed by you, who nodded in return. Arriving in front of a door with the name “Seo Youngho” engraved on a plaque, you set the files down and knocked.
“Come in,” a muffled voice sounded from inside. You opened the door and peeked inside, finding your boss hunched over his desk, focused on doing paperwork. His circular specs were almost falling off his nose, but he made no move to push it back up.
“The papers you asked photocopied for the meeting tomorrow morning and your coffee, sir,” you said, not too loud in fear of disturbing his focus. He waved a hand to his desk dismissively.
Stepping outside once more to grab the files you had put down, you used your back to push open the door and readjusted the heavy load to ease the discomfort on both your forearm and hip. Walking forward, you tentatively set down his coffee on his desk and the files beside his paperwork.
“Thank you, (Y/N).”
You hummed, waiting a little until he finished signing something. Noticing you were still there, he looked up at you from under his glasses in question.
“Did you need something?”
“Um, with all due respect, sir,” you fiddled with the ends of your shirt nervously, “It’s getting quite late and I still have chores to do at home...”
You trailed off. He got the message, eyes trailing to the clock on the wall.
“Ah,” he rubbed the back of his nape in slight embarrassment, “You’re free to go, then.”
Nodding, you turned around and exited his office with a small “Have a nice day, sir.” You walked down the now nearly empty hall, spotting a few cubicles still alive with the sound of crunching keyboards and light filtering under office doors. Shaking your head, you continued down the hall and grabbed your bags, shrugging on your bomber jacket over your white blouse and pink skirt. You fished your phone out of your pocket, clicking the home button and frowning at the time. 9:42 PM.  
You passed by the front desk, the receptionist already snoring softly. Chuckling softly to yourself, you walked out through the spinning doors and stepped onto the streets outside. The night wind was chilly, the moon covered by the cloudy sky. Suppressing a shiver, you unlocked your phone and called the number of your best friend.
“I’m sorry, the number you have dialed is currently out of reach. Please try again lat-“ you ended the call before the it could finish. Furrowing your brows, you scrolled down your contacts and tried calling your brother instead. It rang thrice before the automated voice greeted you once more. You let out a frustrated sigh.
You spent a good fifteen minutes in front of the office, dialing different numbers of your friends and either receiving no answer or quick, hushed explanations that they were busy and hanging up before you could even get a word in. Your parents were no option, either—they were abroad enjoying the vacation of their lives. It was expensive, and plus, you didn’t want to disturb them. Running a hand through your hair distractedly, you bit your lip and considered your choices.
Your house was just barely within walking distance, but it would still take you a good amount of time. Before you started working at the office, you were convinced that you could walk or take a bus home, but you certainly weren’t expecting to come home at this ungodly hour. Unfortunately, the nearest station that entertained 24-hour buses was a four-mile walk. You clicked your tongue in annoyance at your misfortune.
It wasn’t that you were scared of the dark or anything, but walking home alone at night wasn’t exactly the safest thing for a woman. You tightened your jacket around yourself, remembering the stories your mother had told you about the dangers of the streets after the sun had set. They were just stories until one of the girls at your campus was stalked and mugged after walking home at night alone. That was when you made it a habit to call someone every time you were doing so – they may not be there with you, but their voices calmed your nerves. Plus, you read online that if you were being stalked, you could inform the person at the other end of your whereabouts and situation updates. It was a foolproof plan; if only people had the time for it.
An idea struck your head. Not a good one, but it was an idea nonetheless. You took a few minutes to contemplate it, but then realized the longer you took the time to think, the darker and more dangerous it was going to be for you.
“I’m really out of my mind,” you groaned, chiding yourself mentally. But you don’t get anywhere being sane, right? A small voice responded in your head. You sighed. She had a point.
Mind made up, you opened your browser anyways and turned on incognito mode. You didn’t want anyone snooping through your history seeing what you were going to do today. Cheeks blushing, you searched up ‘call boy numbers’. Within seconds, an array of results popped up. Ignoring their provocative titles, your fingers tapped the first website that showed up on your screen. The red tint of your cheeks deepened as the webpage loaded; the titles and advertisements were far too vulgar for your taste. Your eyes averted over the images, wisely choosing to pretend that they did not exist.
You scrolled down to find a list of names and individual phone numbers. You read over them, finding one name that snagged your eye. Johnny, it read. The name sounded American—maybe calling a foreigner would bring less shame to your family. Bonus points if he didn’t understand a lick of what you were saying.  
With a deep inhale, you clicked on the green call button. Your screen darkened and you tentatively brought it up to your ear. After a couple of seconds of ringing, it stopped. Your heart felt like it was going to leap out of its chest —a quick glance at the screen showed that you were connected.
“H-Hello?” You started hesitantly, “Johnny-ssi?”
“That’s me,” a deep voice responded, and you felt a shiver run down your spine,  “What would you like me to do, babygirl? Do you like it when I call you that?”
Your cheeks were on fire, “A-Actually, I was wondering if you could just stay on the line instead of coming over? I’ll still pay your company, of course, just without the sex part?”
Your voice had dropped to a whisper, and you looked around to see if anyone was watching you. No one was in sight, fortunately. You heard a chuckle from the other end.
“If that’s what you want, babygirl. You don’t want daddy to see you pleasuring yourself, do you?” There was a sharp intake of breath from the phone, “You’re such a bad girl. Should daddy punish you?”
At this point, you were as red as a beet, “I don’t—oh my god, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this—Johnny-ssi, can we talk normally? Please?”
There was silence for a few moments. Afraid that you pissed him off, you were about to launch into an apologetic spiel, but he beat you to it.  
“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” His tone was casual now, almost relaxed. You were taken aback at the sudden change and difference in his voice, but you recomposed yourself.
“It’s just that, um,” you started, “I’ve just finished work at this hour and I’m terrified at walking home alone, but all of my friends were either too busy or didn’t pick up so in my desperation I had the stupidest idea to, I don’t know, google up call boy numbers and call one—Johnny-ssi, are you there?”
You pulled your phone away and stared at the screen for a quick second, showing that you were still connected.
“Yeah, I’m still here. Continue,” he prompted. You sighed softly.
“So will you talk to me while I walk back home? Just for peace of mind, you know?” You asked, cringing at yourself as you imagined all the possible ways he could reject you, “Plus, someone needs to know if I got murdered or not.”
It was silent for a few seconds. Just after you thought he hung up on you, you heard, “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” You were almost reaching the point of begging, “Please! It’s just until I get home, I promise. If you don’t want to hear from me ever again I’ll never even look at your number. At least it makes for a good story to tell, right? Will you do it?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” he cleared his throat, “Is it a long walk to your house?”
“No, it usually takes fifteen to twenty minutes,” you bit your lip hesitantly, “So, Johnny-ssi—it’s okay if I call you that, right? Do you have another name that you prefer to be called with?”
“No, no, Johnny’s fine,” he chuckled.
“Well, um, Johnny-ssi, what are your hobbies and interests?”
With that, you began your walk home. You didn’t know if it was the call boy charms or pure charisma, but conversation was light and easy between you two. He even made you laugh a couple of times, especially with his corny jokes.
“Enough with embarrassing me,” you could hear his smile from the other end of the line, “What about you? I’ve never had a client quite as interesting as you with their requests.”
“What is this, twenty questions?” You laughed lightly, but then mulled it over, “On second thought, that’s actually not that bad of an idea. Should we play it?”
“If you want to. I’ll go first, then; ever had a pet?”
“Sadly, no,” you sighed, “I’ve always wanted one but my mom’s allergic to fur. I had a goldfish once as a kid, though; Concrete didn’t last very long.”
“You named your goldfish Concrete?” You heard his flabbergasted tone and let out a small laugh.
“I wasn’t very creative as a kid,” another bout of laughter pealed out of your lips, “How about you?”
You heard his chuckle from the other end of the line, “That’s something we have in common. I had a dog named Flower before I moved away.”
You let out another giggle before you could stop yourself, “Good to know I’m not alone in this world, then. Speaking of pets, do you happen to have any pet peeves, Johnny-ssi?”
Surprisingly, Johnny and you had more in common than you thought. The both of you talked about everything there was to talk about. Your opinions that contrasted, though, made for good conversation topics—the both of you spent a good chunk of your walk debating whether or not water was wet.
By the time you turned the corner to your street, you found yourself more than a little disappointed. You had to admit, there were times that you found yourself walking slower than usual just to prolong the conversation you had with him. The house that before seemed far away was just a few strides away now.
“Hey, Johnny-ssi? I’ve arrived in front of my house,” you rummaged your bag for your keys, and once you found them, held them tightly in your grip before inserting them to the door, “Thanks for accompanying me all the way back. Well, on the other side of the line, anyway. I really appreciate you not hanging up the moment I told you this, um, honestly less-than-bright idea. As promised, I wouldn’t bother you again, right?”  
“The pleasure was all mine,” he replied. You felt your stomach drop slightly. A second of silence passed before he spoke up again, “For the record, I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if you wanted to bother me again. You know my number, don’t you?”
“I—Yes, I do?” It came out more as a question than an answer. You were surprised, to say the least. He chuckled.
“Well, it’s getting late—you should get some sleep. Make sure to sleep well.”
Still flustered, you managed a flimsy reply, “G-Good night, Johnny-ssi.”
“Good night to you, too. Dream of me, will you?”
You heard him laugh before you hung up on the call, face lighting up like a christmas tree. Call boy charms indeed.
                                                                -
You sighed, bringing the cup of steaming coffee to your lips as you leaned on the countertop of the pantry. You relished the feeling of the warmth flowing from your mouth to your throat, warming up your stomach.  The cold air nipped at your bare arms, biting all the way to your bones. Not only was it freezing, the office was practically abandoned.
“Oh? (Y/N), you aren’t going home yet?” Nakamoto Yuta walked in, blazer off and only clad in black slacks and a white dress shirt. His usually neat hair seemed messy, almost like he had run his hands in it multiple times. You couldn’t blame him, though—working in this particular company could be stressful at times.
“Nah,” you shrugged, looking at the clock carefully positioned on the wall from under your lashes. You brought the cup of coffee down, “Youngho-ssi likes to work late.”
“It’s almost eleven, though. Want me to walk you home?” He winked before walking over to make his own cup of coffee. You simply let out a small snort, which he chuckled at.
Yuta, although stationed at one of the higher-ranking positions in the office, had a reputation of flirting with the new interns. You had been here long enough to be immune to it.
“Seriously, though,” he frowned, but the twinkle didn’t disappear from his eye, “It’s really late. Are you sure you’ll be fine? Just because Youngho works late doesn’t mean you should, too.”
“S’alright—It probably gets lonely for him. And you practically live on the other side of the city.”
“You’re right,” he chuckled, walking back to the door and putting a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t hesitate to knock on my office if you need me.”
With another wink, he breezed out of the pantry. You brought the coffee cup once again to your lips and tilted it upwards, only to find that it was already empty. You let out an irked sound and pushed yourself off the counter, throwing the paper cup to the trash can before walking to the coffee machine to make another cup for your boss.
You swiped the Americano from the coffee machine, pouring half a packet of creamer into it and quarter a packet of sugar, just how he liked it. Mindlessly, you started to hum to I’m Yours by Jason Mraz. It had been stuck in your head all day—your brother had been having his own concert during his hour-long showers and you just so happened to have overheard him singing the song. You grabbed a spoon and started to stir the cup of coffee, eyes glancing at the clock on the wall. To be fair, it was a good hour or two later than your usual late hours.
You took the spoon out and left it on the sink, turning around only to be faced with a broad chest. You let out a little scream of shock, nearly dropping the mug. Your boss’s face stared down at you, eyebrows up in question at your panicked attitude. His hair was disheveled and tie undone, giving him an unkempt look uncharacteristic of him.
“You should go home, (Y/N). It’s really late.” He said, and you took a moment to calm yourself before nodding.
“Yes, yes, I—right,” you held out the cup of coffee to him, “Your coffee, sir. Have a nice day—night. Remaining time left of the day.”
You cleared your throat awkwardly. He took it from your hands, and you diverted your eyes to the floor before slinking beside his frame to exit the pantry. That was embarrassing.
“Make sure to get home safely, (Y/N)!” You heard him call out as you walked away.
You made sure to mutter a “Thank you!” before grabbing your bag and shrugging on your jacket. Before the day could get any later, you made your way out of the building into the cold night. The sound of your phone ringing the other side of the line was a welcome buzz to your ears.  It’s been a month or two since you started regularly calling Johnny, and the time you spent walking back to your house has, admittedly, become the favourite part of your otherwise routine day.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I was starting to wonder when you’d call,” came the familiar voice. You smiled, heart lightening already. “You’re going home a bit later than usual, don’t you think? They better be paying you overtime.”
“It’s fine—well, kinda,” you snorted softly, “It is a bit closer to midnight. S’alright, though. How’s your day been?”
“Pretty uneventful. You have anything going on for you?”
“You wanna hear all the boring stuff?”
“Of course. I love listening to you talk,” he purred. You sputtered, cheeks flaming up as he laughed. “Are you blushing yet?”
“Oh, shut up, you,” you walked leisurely under the street lamps, “I started off the day kind of late. Got to the office, had a couple of meetings, worked on this one partnership proposal my boss is having a hard time approving. Ah, I don’t know. I’m definitely going to work on it again once I get home. What else? The weather’s getting colder, and it’s not helping that the office heaters are either broken or constantly on low heat. I’m not very good with the cold, if you can’t tell. My brother has been obsessed with I’m Yours by Jason Mraz and I think it’s infecting me, too. I’ve been trying to get it out of my head by humming but it’s just not working. And I think I’m rambling again. Sorry about that. Johnny?”
There was silence, then a rustling sound. “Hello?”
“Oh. Sorry. You… got cut off for a bit there,” he cleared his throat, voice underlined with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “By I’m Yours, you mean the one that goes…”
You listened to him sing, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, that’s the one. You never told me you sang, Johnny.”
“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” you rolled your eyes. “But I’m curious about your office life.”
“I’ll tell you about it if you do that parrot impersonation one more time.”
“You’re gonna record it!”
“Only for research purposes!”
                                                               -
“Are you done with the partnership files, Jaehyun-ssi?”
“Hmm?” Your coworker looked up from packing his documents to his briefcase, blanking out for a split second before his mind returned to his head. “Oh! The papers! One second—it’s here somewhere…”
He looked around his desk, flipping through some piles of paper and upturning others. He eventually grasped a thick bundle held together by a binder clip at the bottom of his messes, pulling them out and handing them to you.
“Thanks. Make sure you get home safely, Jaehyun-ssi.” You knocked twice on his cubicle wall, turning around with a wave.
You heard him call out “You too!” as you walked down the quiet hallway, making your way to your desk. Lately, you’ve found the office more bearable—heaters all around the floor had been turned up, and someone had even put in a maintenance request for the broken ones. A small smile turned up on your lips at that.
You settled down on your desk, ready to finish up on a report. Not even five minutes had passed before someone broke your concentration.
“Knock-knock,” you let out a small yelp, turning your head to the side to see your boss leaning against the wall beside your desk, eyes glimmering with an emotion you couldn’t decipher. His tie was loose, strands of hair escaping his usual neat hairstyle. “Earth to (Y/N).”
You blushed, embarrassed, “R-Right! What is it, sir?”
“There’s not much to do tomorrow,” he licked his lips, shoving a hand in his pant pocket, “You should wrap up and get back.”
A glance at the clock instantly made you understand why he was worried. “Right. Okay. Thank you. Are you sure you can...”
“I’m sure. Make sure you get home safely, (Y/N). And stay warm,” his eyes followed you as you shoved your laptop into your bag, grabbed your phone before standing up, “Do you need a ride?”
“I’m fine! It’s walking distance, but thank you,” you brushed yourself off and handed him the partnership files, “They’re from Jaehyun-ssi. Make sure you get home safely too, sir. Good night.”
He waved goodbye to you, and you made your way to the lobby. It took a while for your cheeks to regain their original color. Although you had been working under Seo Youngho for quite a while, you didn’t fail to notice how attentive he was starting to be. Of course, how incredibly attractive he was didn’t escape your radar, either. As his secretary, though, it was absolutely important for you to keep up your professionalism—even if he was really hot.
You rummaged through your bag to find your jacket, only to realize you had completely forgotten it by your coat hanger. Drat. You cursed yourself for your own stupidity. Oh well.
The moment you took a step outside, the wind instantly nipped at your exposed arms. You withheld a shiver, looking at the sky. It wasn’t that late yet, and the street lamps illuminated the sidewalk quite brightly. Just for tonight, you were going to walk alone.
Despite having a lot of fun with Johnny, you didn’t want to impose on his work too much. Plus, he had been acting a little oddly as of late. It wouldn’t kill you to be a bit more independent for a couple of nights. You huffed, gripping your phone tightly in your hands as you walked down the streets.
Not a lot of people were out and about, and you could spot a couple a ways up ahead and a guy walking on the opposite side of the street. It calmed your heart a little, at least. It was quiet for a while, the wind biting your arms and swaying the trees. As you walked through a reflective store display, though, you spotted somebody walking a bit behind you.
Wait, wasn’t that the guy who was walking in the opposite direction before? Your brows furrowed. No. He probably went the wrong direction. It’s alright. He’s just trying to get home, like me.
Despite you trying to convince yourself, your heart started to beat a bit faster. You walked a bit faster, but also heard his footsteps speed up to match your pace. The couple who had walked in front of you had long disappeared. You gripped your phone tighter.
Before turning the corner, you stopped. Your heartbeat was in your ears, and you made a show to open your phone and open google maps before looking up at the street sign. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man stop and stare at you. After a solid three minutes and no sign of him moving, you started to feel your blood rush and curses fly through your head. He was wearing a hoodie and a cap, swaying slightly in the wind—obviously intoxicated. You swore under your breath, shaky fingers opening your contacts as you took a step forward. He did the same.
You scrolled wildly for Johnny, clicking the call button at once and putting it to your ear as you speed walked. Your breathing was labored, mind already in overdrive.
Pick up, pick up, pick up! You begged. Please!
“Hello?”
“Johnny!” You breathed out, voice small, “Please call somebody—Gwangmyeong sam-dong, hurry!”
“Are you okay? Are you safe? What’s happening?”
“Please!”
“Stay on the line with me—do not end the call. That is an order. What’s happening?”
“There’s someone following me. He’s—he’s right behind me. I can’t talk too loud. Please. I’m going to make a run for it.”
You heard crackling sounds on the other side, “Is your house far?”
“A bit more. I have to—” you gulped, “I have to unlock the door with the keys.”
“Wait—”
You heard the footsteps behind you gaining speed. You braved a look, and the man smiled eerily at you, causing you to walk faster and faster until you were sprinting.
“Johnny!” You cried out, but you felt a hand grab your arm and pull you back roughly. Their nails were caked and dirty, hand grimy from filth. You screamed, dropping your phone.
Before you could look up to see their face, something forcefully ripped him away. His nails scratched your arm, but you could barely register the pain. You heard a loud crack and a thud, and you shut your eyes in hopes that everything would just go away.
When you opened your eyes, you saw the stalker sprinting away back in the direction you came from and the back of a man clad in a black blazer and pants. He was panting heavily, hair messy. His figure was familiar, and it wasn’t until he turned to you did you realize who he was.
“(Y/N)!” Before you could even register what was happening, he was already embracing you, pulling back to inspect you and make sure you didn’t have any injuries. “Are you alright? What did he do to you?”
“Youngho-ssi?”
“Your arm—you’re bleeding, (Y/N), let’s—”
You drop wordlessly, your arm still linked with his. Your breathing was still heavy, the thump-thump of your heart and blood rushing loud in your ears. Out of a sudden, you felt a heavy weight on your back and shoulders, heat engulfing you. You look up to see your boss squatting in front of you, only wearing his pants and crinkled button-up.
“I thought I told you to stay warm,” he chided, adjusting his blazer over your shoulders to make sure it blocked out the wind. He placed something on your hand, and you looked down to see it was your phone—albeit with a crack on it. “You should probably end that call.”
The line was still connected to Johnny, and you stared at it for a moment before bringing it up to your ears.
“J-Johnny?”
“Here,” your head snapped up to see your boss with his phone beside his ear, voice both audible in front of you and through the phone speaker. “(Y/N)?”
You drop your phone once more, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. Youngho’s face twists into a mix of surprise and panic, clearly at a loss of what to do.
“Oh my god—(Y/N), why are you crying? Please stop crying. I didn’t mean to—that guy is gone. Oh no, please stop crying.”
He brings you up to engulf you in a hug once more, rocking you slightly. You wrap your arms around him, tears wetting his shirt.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Johnny, Youngho-ssi, whoever you are,” you wail, “I can’t believe you’re my hot boss. Why are you my hot boss? You could have been literally anyone else, and I’m so embarrassed and it’s all your fault. I’m sorry—I just really, really like you and—oh my god, please let the ground swallow me up whole.”
“Yes! Yes, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. Please stop crying, (Y/N). I’m also really glad you think I’m hot, and I really, really like you too, but—oh no, I made it worse. I’ll do anything, I promise. I’ll walk you home every day after work, and I won’t ask you to make me coffee anymore, I’ve even quit my side job ever since you started calling me. Please feel better.”
“You quit your side job?”
“That’s not the point here, (Y/N). Really,” he stared you down, eyes softening, “I promised myself I wouldn’t make you cry. I’ll do anything to make up for it, okay?”
“Even the parrot impersonation?” You manage between sniffles, already letting out a small laugh as you pull back to wipe your cheeks.
He grabbed your hands, cupping your face and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “Even the parrot impersonation.”
He leant down and gave you a chaste kiss, pulling back so your foreheads and noses were touching. He kissed your tear marks away, pulling you into another embrace once he was finished.
“Please kiss me a bit more. Then we’ll call it even.”
“Fair enough,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you once more.
46 notes · View notes
xtrashmammalstefx · 5 years
Text
Stupid Kissing Thief
Tumblr media
Douglas Booth x Reader 
Requested By: @courage-grace-rose
WARNINGS: Smut, mild cursing
I met Douglas at the start of Secondary school. He was the first person to be kind to me, unlike the others who were cruel. We were a duo almost immediately and we wound up sharing so much with each other. But there was one thing that wasn’t shared so much as stolen.
We were twelve and the atmosphere among our peers began to change. It became all about who was dating who, who was getting kissed, and all that nonsense such young children find important. I didn’t much care about that sort of thing; mum once said it was because I was a late bloomer, but my Auntie Neve claimed it was because my soul knew what it wanted and thus chose not to worry. One night Doug came over to my house so that I could help him rehearse for a play the school was putting on.
“We have a door you twat!” I hissed at him as he climbed through my window.
He smiled. “Just getting into character is all.”
“By risking falling onto the pavements and killing yourself?” I snapped at him, my heart racing a mile a minute. “How the bloody hell am I suppose to live with something like that?”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Just don’t do it again,” I said sitting back down onto my bed. “Now which scene are we doing today?”
“Um I dunno,” he said nervously sitting down opposite me on my bed.
“Well, which one are you most nervous about?” I asked flipping through the book.
“The meeting scene I guess,” he said looking down awkwardly.
I nodded and flipped to it. I read through it first in silence; pausing when I realized why he was nervous. “Oh…”
“Exactly,” he said.
“Lucky for you Penny Heatherwell is very pretty,” I said trying to ease his nerves. “I highly doubt you’re going to forget it.”
“Uh...right…” he said. “Shall I start or did you..?”
It started off well. We began where Romeo and Juliet step away from the party since that is when Juliet speaks most in the scene. All the while Doug kept looking at me weird. Finally came the fateful lines that started it all.
Juliet:
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.
Romeo:
Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.
And that’s when he abruptly leaned in and crushed his lips to mine. I was shocked, stunned frozen, and pissed. Shocked for obvious reasons, stunned because he didn’t stop, and pissed because that was not how I thought my first kiss would go. I panicked and smacked him on the side of the head with the book.
“OW!” He screamed breaking the kiss.
“What the hell was that?!” I snapped at him.
“A moment,” he said rubbing the side of his face. “A moment I’ve been thinking about lately.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I wanted that moment to go a certain way?” I said. “That I wanted it to be with someone I trust more than anyone else in the world? That...that I wanted to have my favorite song playing in the background or...have some semblance of it being romantic and unforgettable? Or to at least be asked permission first?”
“Do you not trust me?” he asked.
“I did…” I said.
“I-Is there any way I can earn that trust back?” he asked. “You’re my best friend Y/N and...and I just… I can’t lose you.”
And I can’t lose you…
“You’ll have to earn it,” I said.
He smiled at that. “I will earn it and so much more.”
“Whoa down boy,” I laughed. “Now how ‘bout we move on to another scene eh?”
“Sure,” he said.
I flipped further into the book. “Stupid kissing thief,” I muttered as I did.
“That’s not part of the script love,” he said. I held up my middle finger and continued to find another scene.
That was many many years ago. Doug and I are grown now and sharing a flat. He was famous, as I always knew he would be, and I well...let’s just say my YouTube channel is at a humble subscriber point.
I wasn’t working on a video on the night everything came to a head. No, rather I was readying myself for a date with my boyfriend Deacon.
“Wow, you look…” Doug began when I stepped into the sitting room.
“Horrendous right?” I asked. I was wearing a new dress that did not fit me as well as it did the mannequin I’d seen it on. It was far tighter and revealing.
“Never,” he smiled. “You’re beautiful Y/N.” He said putting his latest script down. “So what’s the occasion?”
“One-month anniversary dinner with Deacon,” I said.
“Ah,” he said. “Should’ve known it was for the twat.”
“Doug,” I said in a warning voice.
“Sorry,” he said. “Not my fault he has wanker written all over himself.”
“Enough,” I said. “He’s a decent guy alright? Probably the best I’m ever going to meet considering my luck in the past.”
“Oh trust me, love,” Doug said. “That git is anything but the best; especially for you.”
Just then there was a knock at the door. I swiped my phone from the coffee table and ran to answer it. Deacon smiled at the sight of me. “Hello dear.”
“Hi,” I said kissing him on the cheek.
“Hello Doug,” he said playing nice. Doug who was passing by on the way to the kitchen looked over and nodded once.
“Come on let’s go yeah?” I said practically pushing Deacon out of the flat.
We went to this restaurant in town that I’d never ventured into (mostly because the patrons were mostly wealthy and snobby) and managed to get our own private table. “Does Doug hate me for some reason?”
I shook my head. “He just has difficulty trusting people.”
“Except you,” he said.
“Well we sort of went through puberty together so we’re sort of in this for the long run,” I said. “He’s my best friend and I honestly cannot picture my life without him. Which is why I wish you two would get along.”
“I’m trying to but,” Deacon shook his head. “He’s just so standoffish. Was he like this with your ex’s?”
“Only the ones who wound up breaking my heart,” I said. “I have an ex who broke up with me because he was gay. Doug was absolutely amazing with him.”
“What about the lucky ones?”
“Lucky ones?” I arched an eyebrow at him.
“You know the lucky lads who kissed you first and loved you first,” Deacon said making it obvious what he meant by loved.
“Uh well funny story actually,” I said nervously. “It was the same lad both times.”
“Oh really?”
I nodded. “It was… Doug.”
He nearly spat out his wine. “WHAT?!”
“Deacon relax,” I said.
“Why the hell haven’t you told me this before?”
“Because it isn’t any of your business,” I said.
“Were you both at least drunk or something during both?”
“Okay first off we were twelve when we kissed,” I pointed out. “And secondly I didn’t want my virginity going to just any old twat so I asked Doug to...why the hell am I even telling you this. It’s ancient history!”
“Oh darling you are completely daft if you think it’s history to him,” Deacon said. “God it all makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“Why he bloody hates me so much!” Deacon snapped at me. “Look just tell me something.”
“Alright.”
“Do you love him?”
“What? I’ve told you, me and him are just…”
“Y/N I need you to move out of the flat,” Deacon said.
“What?”
“If we are going to work then I need to be able to trust you,” he said. “I can’t trust you with him.”
“Is that how you think of me?” I said. My voice flat.
“No…,” he said. “But it’s the only choice you’ve got.”
“Like. Hell. It. Is,” I stood up and stormed out of the restaurant.
I took a cab home and stormed into the flat.
“Y/N?!” Doug looked up from his script.
“NOT NOW!” I snapped stepping out of my heels.
“What did he do?” Doug asked. I couldn’t even look at him. Instead, fuming, I darted for my room. I took off the dress (determined to throw it in the rubbish bin when I had the chance) and changed into a pair of shorts and an oversized Boy George t-shirt.
I sat on my bed and buried my face in my hands. It’s how it always ended; with me crying and calling myself a bloody idiot. Nothing’s changed and nothing ever will...or so I thought.
I didn’t hear him come in. One minute I was sat in bed sulking and in the next, I was in his arms. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“Me too love,” he said. “Me too.”
“I’m such an idiot,” I whispered.
“No, you’re not,” he said. “You’re brilliant.” He rubbed my arm. “So what was it this time.”
“He made me do something I absolutely hate,” I said.
“What?” Doug looked at me concerned.
I looked up at him, at his crystal blue eyes, and suddenly I knew what Deacon meant. “He made me choose.”
“And..?” Doug asked. “What choice did you make?”
“I’d rather Romeo be my love than that rotter Paris any day,” I said just as I did years ago when he loved me first.
“Love, by yonder blessed moon I vow,” he began. “That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops⸺”
Damn him.
“O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon,” I recited as I did twice before.  What can I say Doug is the one true Romeo. “That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”
“What shall I swear by?” he whispered.
“Do not swear at all.” I brought my mouth to his. His lips were warm and soft. He kissed me back hungrily. As though freeing an emotion he’d long since held back. We lied back on my bed after a while and I snaked my hands up his shirt. I palmed his abs; going further up until he got the hint and shrugged it off tossing it to the floor. He then helped me off with mine.
“You’re beautiful Y/N,” he whispered bringing his lips to my neck. He kissed downward reaching my breasts. He kissed and played with my nipple until a moan escaped my lips. He looked up and smirked.
“Stupid kissing thief,” I muttered.
He laughed and continued to kiss down my body finally gripping the edge of my shorts. He looked up silently asking for permission. I smiled and nodded. He pulled them off along with my panties. “So beautiful,” he muttered before bringing his lips to my heat.
It sent a shiver up my spine. He kissed and sucked at my core making need him more. “Mmm Doug,” I moaned as he continued to kiss and lick. “Doug I’m going to…” My body tensed up as a wave swept over me. Pleased with himself Doug climbed back up to me as I collapsed from my orgasm. Panting I reached down and started to pull at his sweats. He stood up and pulled them off. I absorbed the image of his body and admired it for what it was: a thing of beauty.
He climbed back on top of me and kissed me gently on the mouth.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He smiled down at me. “I love you too,” he said. “I always will.”
He then pushed himself inside me. I gasped having forgotten the size of his length.  “You okay?” he asked. I nodded bringing my mouth to his.
As we kissed he began to move. The first time we made love was almost magical. Not just because it was the first but because after that...no other lad could make love me as he did. This time was no different. He held me as if he didn’t plan on ever letting me go. He moved inside me as though I were the only one he would ever make love to. And he loved me...he genuinely loved me. And I loved him. God did I love him.
After what felt like an eternity my body began to tense up again. “D-Doug...fuck!”
“It’s alright,” he groaned. “I’m close too.”
His thrust became sloppy as I grew tighter. Finally, the wave came over me again making me scream his name to the heavens. He moaned and painted the inside of me with his seed. He held me close until the last drop left him. He reached down and pulled himself out.
We crawled under the covers and I placed my head on his chest. “This is one of the best nights of my life,” I said. “Is it one of yours.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “But I know a way it could be made better.”
“Oh?”
“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?”
He slid a small diamond ring onto my finger. I gasped and looked up at him.
“Th’ exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.”
“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it,” I kissed him hard.
We drifted off to sleep soon after. Just me and my stupid kissing thief.
48 notes · View notes
Text
The Visitor of the Night
Thor Odinson finds himself with a vampire stalking him.
And it doesn’t end the way he thinks it would.
“Come on, Odinson, let me in”
His fanged mouth spilled words that he’d heard every day for the past month, his pale face looked at him through the window and his slender body was leaning so casually against the side of his home that Thor almost bought into the betrayal.
Almost
Except he knew better. He knew not to trust those sweet words, those lingering looks, he knew better than to think those tender hands won’t hurt if they grabbed him too hard, he knew that that sweet, seductive voice wouldn’t turn deadly in a second.
He knew from experience.
Because this man, this vampire, had attacked him not a month and three days ago in an abandoned parking lot. He’d come at him at night, taken his wrist and bit it. These same green eyes had been wild, crazed, lusting for blood and his lips were painted with red.
He’d pinned Thor against his own car and made him watch as he drank from his list, one hand around Thor’s throat.
Thor wasn’t a small man, he was huge and this demonic entity had held him against the hood of his car like he was weightless. He was a trained fighter, but none of that mattered against the strength that held him pinned there, ready to be his vampire’s next feast.
He was sure he was going to die and become a segment on a news channel for maybe two days, then that was it. He would have died without anyone truly knowing who he had been.
Only, that didn’t happen.
The only thing the vampire had done was bite into Thor’s wrist, to which Thor had hissed in pain and turned his head away as much as the creature’s grip allowed, then waited…and waited…
Nothing happened.
And soon enough, the grip fell from his throat and the subtle weight of the vampire leaning against him was gone as well. His breathing, shattered and scared, was his only companion, and Thor straightened slowly, just to make sure.
He’d heaved a loud breath, rushed into his car and driven home.
He hadn’t been able to sleep that night and the next night, he’d had a heart attack when he went to wash his dishes and saw this same vampire leaning against his window.
Calm, cool and collected, he’d spoken the words he did just now, his fangs shining in the light of the moon.
“Let me in, Odinson” he’d purred “I just want to talk.”
Thor had broken the dishes when he’d dropped them, his face, his arms, his legs felt numb, but he forced himself to run and lock all the doors to the house until he was sure that thing wouldn’t be able to get in.
It was stupid, considering that he could kick his way in, but it was a safety he needed to at least manage a few hours sleep.
He wasn’t there during the day, but the moment, the sun set, he was here again, smiling at him, telling him to let him in and open the door.
Thor was wary, his body still tense and he went over and pulled down the blinds to hide the vampire from his sight.
He’d called the cops a few times but stopped when the demon simply walked away and made it look like Thor was crazy. He wasn’t one to get caught and though he should, Thor wasn’t about to go out and take pictures of him.
If he could, that is.
From what he read on the internet, vampires sometimes tended not to show up on film…
The blind closed, the vampire gone from sight, Thor went to the living room, stiffening when he saw him at the balcony door, smiling at him through the glass.
“Just let me in” he said “and I will stop bothering you”
Thor’s heart raced faster and he shook his head.
“Alright, then” the vampire said
It almost gave Thor hope for a second, when the vampire moved away from the doors, but all he did was lay down in one of the many benches Thor had outside on his porch, and close his eyes.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
It was the worst feeling Thor could ever imagine happening, honestly, the feeling of being trapped in his own house because a vampire wouldn’t leave.
Or at least not be able to go out at night, he didn’t know where this thing went when the sun rose.
But he always hoped he wouldn’t come back because it was like Thor was choking all over again, pressed against that car, his breathing being constricted by the slender, yet terrifying hand this vampire had.
As foolish as it was, even at night, he wasn’t left alone.
The vampire had figured out where his bedroom was and sat on the sloped roof beside the window all night.
Sometimes he stayed quiet, but sometimes he sang old songs that Thor didn’t understand, or he talked about what he saw. He asked stupid questions, about technology or transportation or the radio, he was fascinated by the radio.
Thor tried to drown his voice out but in the back of his mind, a traitorous voice told him that he liked it. He liked the feeling of someone talking to him again.
It made him feel less lonely about his life and as sad as it was, it also gave him comfort.
Not that he liked his company or the constant fear he had in his heart every time he saw his shape at his window or doors, he hated it. He wanted it gone.
But somehow, with his crippling loneliness at his back, always there, always gnawing at him, he didn’t feel the need to get up and shoo the vampire away. He liked listening to the sound of another presence in his house.
Other than Hela, of course.
His cat was a nightmare, but ever since this vampire showed up at their house, she was docile, calm, hiding under furniture until Thor got into bed.
Then she came out to snuggle against him and purr, adding to the calmness he felt as the vampire’s voice pushed his loneliness away.
***
When Thor had been dumped so unceremoniously by Svadilfari, he’d sobbed for a straight week. He’d lost his job, fallen into a depression and lost so much weight that he’d scared his friends.
Back when he had friends.
He’d pushed them away, too.
No, no that wasn’t true.
He’d pulled away from them.
Svadilfari had been his fitness instructor and they had been together for three years. Then one night, out of the blue, he’d received a call, Svadilfari’s tone was ominous, cold, and the words fell over Thor like ice cold water, jarring him so badly he could still feel what he did then.
He’d pleaded, he’d told Svadilfari he loved him, he’d begged him to reconsider, anything to keep him there.
But nothing had worked and at the end of the day, he’d still seen Svadilfari pack his belongings and move out of Thor’s house.
He’d stood at the doorway, watching him get into the car, hoping against hope that he would come back, that he would fall in love with him, too.
He hadn’t.
Svadilfari hadn’t turned around and he hadn’t looked at him. He sure as hell didn’t come back, either.
He’d driven off, leaving Thor with the ashes that were his love, and the tears in his eyes that Thor feared would never dry up.
He’d gone into his house and cried until his throat was raw. He’d cursed his own miserable existence.
Then he’d called Svadilfari repeatedly.
At first, he was ignored, his calls went to voicemails, which he pathetically left.
Then, one night, in the middle of another bout of wailing after he’d lost his job, he heard it.
Svadilfari had picked up his call.
Thor remembered that he gasped softly, his eyes wide as he listened.
“What, Thor?”
Svadilfari’s deep, rumbling, answered.
It warmed had Thor’s body and he sniffed.
“Svad…” he’d croaked, his voice broken from how much he’d wept.
Svadilfari had sighed “What?”
Thor had swallowed heavily “I…”
“Baby, who is it?”
A slurred, sleepy, woman’s voice asked from Svadilfari’s side and Thor choked on his own heartbreak. He had gasped softly, shocked by how easily Svadilfari had moved on, how cruelly he’d left him.
Thor had cut the call.
He’d held the pillow he had to his chest and curled up, suddenly cold and devoid of emotion.
He didn’t call Svadilfari again.
Not to this day.
Every now and then he saw a missed call alert from him but he never picked up. He’d closed off that side of himself, planted an ice cold wall there, to never let anyone in and let them hurt him like that again, never.
He would rather be lonely than to fall down that depressed, broken path again.
He’d gotten Hela when he couldn’t stand the silence of his own home. He didn’t mind if she knocked down his decorations or yowled in the middle of the night.
He wasn’t alone anymore. He liked it that way.
It was morning now and he had the freedom to walk out of his home. As he left, he couldn’t help glancing back to see where the vampire stood on a daily basis.
For three days he’d been here now, bothering him every damn way he could.
Thor sighed, shaking his head as he walked away, leaving his car at home for now.
If nothing else, at least he would get some reprieve with his coffee today.
Thor worked as a receptionist.
He’d gotten the job after his break up as a temporary thing but some how four years had passed and he was still here, doing the absolute minimum, for a job he didn’t even like, in a company that hired him because he was big and scared off any potential threats.
Not that Thor was violent – he just looked it.
He’d gained his weight and muscle back eventually and it helped him, at least, keep muggers and the lot at bay.
Not that he’d been staying out after dark the past three days, but still.
The ringing of phones, the muted conversation, the low stream of people was all he thought he needed back then.
His friends, when he’d told them, asked if he was alright.
He’d shrugged and told them he was fine, this was temporary.
Now the job seemed more permanent than he’d thought possible and his friends had moved on.
It was like the ice wall he had around him.
He wouldn’t let anyone in, the job didn’t let him meet people, so he was alright.
Except that his boss liked to look at him.
The man wasn’t as large as Svadilfari but he was his superior and Thor knew that men like him would ultimately use his power against those beneath them.
Sometimes he made him stay late at work, doing stupid tasks that anyone else could do, but that was as far as it went.
Thor was eager to leave when the clock struck five. He gathered his coat and scarf or whatever he needed, and rushed out of there so he could go back to his home.
His coworkers often asked him out for drinks but he always had the same excuse for them.
“Sorry, the cat gets upset when I am not home on time” Thor said even now, “maybe next time”
There was no next time, they all knew, but it didn’t hurt to give them hope, he guessed. They would soon stop trying, anyway.
So, happy with his deflection, Thor walked out, still in day time, and made his way to the nearest bus stop so that he could go back home and hide from his unwanted, pale, freaky guest.
He reached home just as the sun was setting and was quick to lock everything up again. Hela began to follow him, rubbing against his ankles and purring loudly.
“Hey, girl” he reached down to pet her as he pulled the blinds over a window “I missed you, too”
He straightened and screamed, falling back when he saw the vampire right in front of him, blood staining his mouth, his eyes wild and his face grey as death.
***
He was shaking, still.
And every now and then he heard a snicker from his kitchen window, followed by a cooing sound from the vampire.
“Are you really that scared?” the vampire asked “come now, it was a prank, Thor, Jesus”
Thor didn’t reply. He stood, quietly watching the pasta boil. His entire body was coiled, tensed to flee.
He wanted to, but he was afraid that if he stepped out, this thing would get him.
Hela was at the counter, watching as Thor worked, occasionally looking to the vampire, who curled his lip in disgust at the creature.
“Why do you have this thing here?” the vampire asked “it’s despicable”
Hela hissed at him and the vampire hissed right back, causing the cat to growl and puff her tail at him in warning.
The vampire scoffed.
“Stupid”
Thor didn’t reply.
He went to his fridge to pull out the needed ingredients for his sauce but stilled when he realized he was out of cream.
And he didn’t have the things required to make the other sauce.
“Uh oh…” the vampire cooed “Out of cream?”
Thor turned to look at him, his eyes haunted.
“I could get it, you know” he offered “it wouldn’t even take a second”
Thor swallowed heavily and the vampire snickered.
“How much does it cost these days?” the vampire asked “ten dollars?”
He couldn’t bring himself to speak but the vampire didn’t seem to mind.
“Whatever, I will get it, for a price”
“I’m not letting you in” Thor told him quickly
He was mad, he had to be, to even consider this.
“Fine, don’t let me in” he said “but I want you to talk to me.”
No, it was a trick. It had to be some game this thing was playing.
“Listen, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done that in the parking lot” the vampire told him “so you can drop the scared little horror movie girl act.”
Thor set the things he had in his arms on the counter.
“What do you want from me?” he asked
The vampire shrugged “Acknowledgement, maybe. I have been here talking to you on a daily basis for four days and this is the most you have ever said to me”
Thor shrugged.
The vampire sighed
“Fine, if I get you your stupid cream, will you at least respond to my talking?” he asked
Thor bit his lip and thought about it. The vampire snickered.
“I’ll stop insulting your fur demon”
Thor frowned and the vampire laughed
“Alright” he said “stay there, I will get your damn cream”
Thor had time only to blink.
The vampire left.
He felt suspended, between relief and waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was trapped there, not knowing if he should move from the kitchen or …
He heard a gust of wind and looked up, staring, when he saw the vampire back, the needed for item in a bag in his hand.
“You owe me twenty dollars”
Thor opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and nodded.
He actually found himself digging into his pockets for a wallet and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. The vampire smiled when Thor couldn’t see, not his mocking, cruel smile, but one where he radiated warmth for a second.
Thor put his wallet back and looked at him
“Uh…”
“You would have to open the window” the vampire told him “or a door”
Thor hesitated.
This thing would pull him out of the door in a heartbeat and kill him.
Window would definitely be safer.
So, telling himself he wasn’t unhinged, Thor went to open the window and give the vampire money. He took it without doing anything, Thor had to give him credit for that, then gave him a cream, perhaps holding on just for an extra second to make Thor nervous, before he let the bag slip from his fingers.
He pocketed the money and let Thor close the window so he could cook again. He leaned against it, watching as Thor made his sauce and cut everything up.
“Is this pasta?” he asked “what you are making?”
Thor looked at him and nodded as he drained the pasta.
“Yeah” he said, then after a second “You want some?”
The vampire grinned “No, I’ll pass this time”
“Suit yourself”
Thor felt lighter, suddenly, as he went to get a pan for the sauce.
“Uh…” Thor said “what’s your name”
At that, the vampire smiled again, another genuine one that came from his long dead heart rather than his mockery of Thor.
“Loki” he said “my name is Loki”
Thor nodded to him “Hello, Loki”
“Hello, Thor”
He set his shoulder on the window frame, watching as Thor cooked, then following him to the living room window as he went to eat in front of the television.
He didn’t open a window or address Loki again, but he turned on the subtitles of the movie he was watching so that if he wanted, Loki could watch, too.
And Loki did.
He stood there, arms crossed, watching the entire movie with Thor.
It was so silly, he thought, this act. Watching other people act, but it was something everyone did here.
They watched this entertainment and became heavily invested in them, got large pictures of the actors and placed them around, it was entertaining.
Loki, himself, preferred horror movies, but he wasn’t about to tell Thor that.
He was still skittish around Loki and if he was honest, he didn’t like that feeling. He didn’t like that, for such a big man, Thor was so – afraid.
Not necessarily of him, but…of something.
And Loki wanted to find out if he could.
***
One month after Thor was locked into his own house with a vampire, he went out at night.
And of course, Loki went with him.
He could tell from the beating of his heart that Thor was absolutely terrified of the idea, but he braved it because one, Hela was out of food and two, Loki had been behaving very nicely these past weeks.
He only whined to be let in at bed time and actually talked to Thor.
Sometimes Thor responded, most of the times he just listened, quietly, as he did his work.
But tonight, he had to get cat food and though Loki had gotten things for him a few more times, he refused to get anything for the devil animal that Thor kept in his home.
Loki hated Hela.
And Hela returned the favor with interest.
One night, Thor had extended a marshmallow for Loki to feel and Hela had screamed and leapt at Loki’s hand, sinking her claws deep into it and scratching him hard enough to bleed.
Thor had been shocked and Loki cussed as he stepped back, waving his hand to get the sting of the injury away for the few seconds needed for it to fix.
“Stupid She Devil!” Loki shouted at her
Hela stood at the window, her grey fur on end, her back arched as she growled loudly at him.
“Why the hell would you keep this thing here!?” Loki demanded.
Thor had pulled his lips inwards to keep from laughing, but moved forward to carefully take Hela off the ledge and into his arms, closing the window and locking it.
“Good girl” he whispered in her ear as he had set her down
“I heard that, you prick” Loki called from outside.
Thor had laughed and shook his head
Now, he had to rethink that as he went to his car and watched Loki come over curiously.
“Hey, let me in, too” Loki knocked on the window
Thor looked at him, Loki could see him working things out, but then he was disappointed when Thor shook his head.
Sighing, Loki stepped back and allowed the car to leave.
And Thor was so grateful.
No vampire could enter unless invited into a home.
Technically the car wasn’t a home, but…
Thor was still glad.
He knew Loki was following him, and he let him.
It was a free country, he guessed, even for him.
There was a pet store not far from there and Thor got out, paid for the food, then turned to get back into his car.
Loki was leaning on it and smiled
“You gonna make me walk all the way back home?”
Thor pretended to think about it, then beamed “Yes”
Loki laughed and shook his head “You’re such a shit”
He pushed off the car and let Thor drive back home, reaching a few minutes after him, to watch him pour the food into Hela’s bowl.
“Why must you cater to that thing?” Loki asked “I am sure it has enough souls of the damned to eat in its spare time”
Thor laughed softly “Well, everyone has to eat. I assume, even you”
Loki shrugged “I drink out of a bag once a day, doesn’t exactly qualify as eating”
That surprised Thor, in all honestly.
“A bag?”
Loki nodded “Yeah. I have a supplier at the hospital. He gives me one of the clean blood bags from their banks. I pay him for it, that’s about it”
“Oh” Thor frowned “I thought…”
“That I bite people and go ‘I drink your blood, blah blah blah’?”
Thor tried to be nice about it, but grimaced and Loki smiled.
“To be fair, I don’t blame you” Loki said, arms crossed, as he pushed off the edge of his house “our first meeting wasn’t very good”
“No” Thor said “I remember no meeting where I was bitten”
“Not even by that?” Loki nodded to Hela
Thor shook his head “No, not even by her”
Loki hummed and kicked at the ground, then sighed.
“I was attacked” he told Thor “by another vampire. I would have died if I didn’t take some blood. I didn’t mean for it to frighten you”
Thor’s brow furrowed “Oh”
He hadn’t expected that. If he was honestly he thought more along the lines of what Loki had said self-deprecatingly.
“Truth it that a lot of what you hear about my kind is false” he smirked “I don’t go around hunting people and drinking their blood. Some do, but that population is in a single digit percentile and mostly belong up high in the mountains where they live. They don’t come out much.”
“Oh, I see”
“Yes” Loki sighed “Me? I like laying low. I don’t like territorial fights or anything and I walked into that one very stupidly.”
“What happened?” Thor found himself asking
“Turf war” Loki said “like … gangs of vampires making sure stragglers like me don’t walk into their territory. They would have killed me if I hadn’t been able to escape”
“How did you escape?”
“I fought back” Loki said “we don’t fight like you do. If anything it’s more like the witch you have stuffing her face behind you”
Thor balked and spun around, looking at his house.
“Your cat, Thor…”
“Oh”
Loki laughed as Thor blushed, shaking his head
“I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Loki asked “Sorry about that, man”
Thor scratched the back of his neck and laughed, too.
“Well, after knowing that vampires exist, you can’t blame me, exactly”
“Probably” Loki smiled “but that was funny”
Thor rolled his eyes and turned away, going to the living room.
As expected, Loki was at his usual perch on the window, ready to watch with him.
They watched an old movie before Thor headed to bed and Loki sat by that window to start singing.
And it was only when he was about to drift into sleep that he remembered that Loki didn’t ask to be let into his house.
For some reason, it gave him an easier sleep.
***
Thor began to walk out at night.
As expected, Loki walked with him. It was getting cooler and Thor shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked.
Loki could have followed him but Thor appreciated that he didn’t. He liked the company even if he gave Loki shit about it.
So, because he was bored and his cable was out, Thor decided to walk to his favorite coffee house. They served the best coffee he had and though Loki couldn’t drink, Thor still had him walk in.
Loki crinkled his nose at the smell and groaned
“You humans are strange” he said “you can make this at home, why have it here? And don’t say ‘for interaction’ because if you wanted that, you wouldn’t be here with a walking corpse”
“Jesus, Loki” Thor whispered “Keep your voice down”
Loki smirked and sat straight in his chair when Thor went to get himself a coffee and a muffin. He brought it to a table for two and had Loki sit with him while he enjoyed them.
“You want some?”
“No, thank you” Loki said “I am still full thanks to the pasta you made today”
Thor narrowed his eyes at him but said nothing.
Who was he to say anything to Loki?
He was here, sitting with a vampire in a coffee house surrounded by human juice boxes.
So he let it be what it was and dug into his muffin while Loki sat with his arms crossed on the tabletop, watching him.
“You eat uncharacteristically like a barbarian”
“Thank you” Thor said, deliberately, with his mouth full
Loki made a face and looked away in minor disgust, intending on watching the people around them. They were all so safely unaware of who he was and what he could do to them it fascinated him. Their deliberate ignorance of his existence, because if they knew, panic and chaos would ruin their living.
He heard Thor call his name and looked back at him to see the muffin was demolished and he was having his coffee in a more human like fashion.
“How about you tell me about yourself a little?” Thor asked
“Oh, are you bonding with your predator now?”
Thor shrugged “I see no one else with me so yes”
Loki conceded “Alright…I am eighty three”
Thor groaned “That’s it? I was hoping for at least five hundred years old archaic vampire story”
Loki scoffed “Do you know how rare that is? Vampires do not live long, unfortunately. If the sun doesn’t get them, the diseases and what not does”
“Really?” Thor asked “I thought…”
“You watched movies, my friend” Loki smirked “trust me, the truth is far more boring”
“That puts a damper on things”
“A damper?” Loki raised his brows “and suddenly you’re fascinated by the monster that terrified you for a month?”
“The monster didn’t get my groceries before” Thor pointed out “So…”
“Yeah. Yeah, shut up and drink your damn earth liquid” Loki said, turning to look out at the evening outside.
Thor grinned and went back to his coffee, deciding on getting a sandwich since he was always hungry. Loki idly waved him off, his green eyes still focused on the people, when Thor told him and he went to the display.
He was still looking at the sandwiches five minutes later when he saw a reflection in the display glass, of someone he didn’t think he would ever see again and a familiar hand rest on his shoulder.
Thor let out a soft gasp and turned, his eyes widening when he saw Svadilfari standing beside him.
“Svad…” Thor breathed
Svadilfari looked just as beautiful as he had before.
That sexy scar across his eye, the one Thor kissed so many times, that tanned skin, brown eyes, his dark hair with dashes of silver at the temples now…
Oh God…Thor couldn’t breathe anymore.
“Hey” Svadilfari’s deep, rumbling voice said “I – uh – I saw you from the window and…and I don’t know, somehow I came here without really thinking, you know?”
Thor swallowed heavily and took a step back “Uh … how have you been?”
“I’ve been good” Svadilfari said “I’m back in town, I was wondering if – if we could talk”
“Talk?” Thor stopped when he felt the display nudge his hip.
Svadilfari had cornered him and though when he did it before, it excited Thor, right now, all it did was raise his heartbeat to the point where his head started to get dizzy.
“Yeah, we … I mean I … I miss you” Svadilfari said “I wanted to see you again, maybe over dinner or …or something, I’ve missed you”
“Oh…” Thor said “I…”
“I made a mistake and I realized when I was…”
“Fucking other people?” Thor couldn’t help but cut in softly “It’s been four years, Svad”
He could see people watching them and he didn’t want their attention, he wanted to hide!
“I know” Svadilfari took a step closer “I just…”
“Oh, darling, what is taking so long?”
Both Svadilfari and Thor startled when Loki came over, smiling. He ignored Svadilfari completely and looped his arm with Thor’s.
“I’ve been waiting for ten minutes” he leaned up and planted a soft kiss to Thor’s cheek “I already miss you”
Svadilfari stared, his mouth hanging open for a second before he closed it.
“Oh…”
Loki turned to look at the man “Hello, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, my name is Loki.”
He held out a hand for Svadilfari’s.
“Are you a friend of Thor’s?”
Svadilfari swallowed and took his hand “I – I am”
“Oh, that’s nice how long have you known Thor?”
“A while” Svadilfari said, stepping back “I uh…I should leave you be”
“Sure” Loki set his head on Thor’s shoulder, still0 holding his arm “See you later, Sven”
Svadilfari didn’t even bother corrected him as he left, and the moment he was out of sight, Loki’s sweet demeanor dropped.
“Dumbass”
He straightened and looked at Thor, who watched him with wide eyes.
“So, you got what you needed?” Loki asked “I am ready to leave this place”
Thor nodded “Um…yes?”
“Good”
He took his arm again and Thor was surprised by how strong Loki was as he dragged him to their belongings so they could take them and leave.
***
“That was him, wasn’t it?”
Thor, who was sitting in the kitchen with a mug of tea, nodded wordlessly.
Loki, who was at the window again, sighed “What a bastard”
Thor didn’t reply and Loki studied him a moment.
“Is that why you cry sometimes?” Loki asked “when you’re alone?”
“I’m not truly alone now, am I?” Thor sipped his drink
“No,” Loki smirked “No you’re not, I guess”
Thor didn’t reply and Loki stood there, biting his lip.
“He’s not worth it, you know” Loki told him “if he didn’t see you for you truly are. He’s going to regret it for the rest of his life. Your pain will pass, his likely won’t”
Thor didn’t look like he would respond, but then he slowly turned to look at Loki and smiled.
“Thank you” he said quietly
Loki shrugged “Calling it as I see it”
He turned to watch the street and almost missed something Thor said.
Almost
“What?” Loki stared at Thor.
“I said” Thor was on his feet as he looked at him “Why don’t you come in?”
“You have got to be kidding me” Loki said
Thor smiled “I’m not”
To prove it, he went to the back door and opened it, letting Loki decide if he wanted to enter.
Loki stood, stunned for a second, then smiled and walked to the door.
He jolted and flinched when Thor pretended to shut it and laughed at the way Loki leapt back.
“You jerk” Loki snorted “You’re  a shit, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah” Thor put his arm around Loki “Learned from the best”
The door closed after them as Thor invited the vampire at his window into his home and likely, into his life.
 @golikethatcat you’re amazing
363 notes · View notes
rocket-roach · 5 years
Text
Shadows We Know
request from everyone’s favorite fandom mom and queen of knowledge who i admire very much, @fuyunoakegata 
I wanted to write more of this and I think I definitely will at one point, because I love all the boys in this fic and I feel like there’s a lot more for me explore in this story.
ANYWAY. without further ado: here’s dick, jason, and tim dealing (and struggling) with their father and losing someone else very important
Word count: 2133
He’s always had nightmares. They just got worse after his parents were killed. Then they were catastrophic after Bruce died.
Tim running around the manor while he hunted for the ghost of their father didn’t help any.
Patrol had been quiet. Damian didn’t complain as much as he used to, even with Tim’s return to the manor. It had been months since Dick had fired Tim and started the youngest as Robin. But it was nice to have Tim back. Even if he was quickly and drastically reducing the amount of espresso in the house.
His mind was flying. Tim was back, but Jason had been spending nearly every waking hour in Crime Alley. Dick had gone there to bring him home. But the sight of Jay leaving sacks of Big Belly Burger on the fire escapes and at the entrances of the cardboard lean-tos, he left him alone. It didn’t feel right to ask him to come home then. Jason was still healing, and he didn’t want to force open those wounds.
He laid in his bed, aching to go across the hall and ask Bruce for help.
But that was what crazy people didn’t, wasn’t it? Ask the dead for advice. He wasn’t crazy, he rationalized as he slid his feet into the Superman slippers on the side of his bed. He was just out of options. Dick padded across the hall. Bruce’s door opened with its usual soft groan.
Lit only by the full moon outside, the massive master suite was spotless. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the desk, the bedside table, the dresser, or even in the bathroom. Finding the room to his liking, he sat on the bed and laid down. Bruce’s grey comforter was just as fluffy as the day he left it. The former acrobat wiggled underneath it after a beat, wrapping it around himself in a cocoon of warmth.
Dick fell asleep moments later.
He was standing under the big top, the spotlights aimed at the platforms above. His parents stood on the far right one, waving their hands as an invisible crowd cheered loudly. On the left, stood Bruce. He was shouting, Dick could tell from the way that one vein was straining on his forehead and how the tendons on his neck were taught. But he was making no sound.
He was trying to stop the Dick’s parents from leaping. He finally caught sight of Dick in the ring, and Bruce’s glacial eyes pinned him to that spot.
 Over the roar of the crowd, Dick heard Bruce say four words.
“Crime Alley devours children.”
John and Mary’s bodies hit the ground with two wet thuds.
Dick shot awake in his father’s bed, his hair soaked with sweat and tears and snot covering his face. Songbirds were heralding the new day outside of the bay windows, and bile rose in his throat. Dick charged to the bathroom; his hands gripping the porcelain bowl as he vomited. Alfred had started knocking on the door. Dick was too busy dry-heaving over the puke to answer. Then he felt a gentle hand smoothing his hair away from his face.
“Master Dick,” Alfred said softly. “It’s alright, sir. You’re okay.”
“I saw him, Al,” Dick finally said. “in my dream.”
Alfred tried to muffle his groan as he joined Dick on the floor, but from the worried look Dick shot him, he hadn’t been successful.
“Should we move to the bed?”
“I’m old, Master Dick. Not an invalid. Do you want to tell me about the dream?”
“He said something really weird. He said, god, what was it?” Dick bit his lip as he thought. “Oh, that’s right. ‘Crime Alley devours children.’ That’s pretty off the wall, even for him.”
“He might be onto something,” a deep, smoke ruined voice said from the doorway. “Three of the kids under my protection have gone missing within the past three weeks.”
“I came to tell you Master Jason was home,” Alfred spoke.
 They were in the cave after breakfast, with Damian sticking close to Dick’s side. Tim was in the evidence corner, muttering to himself as he putzed with various spoils of intergalactic battle. Jason’s hands kept going to the front right pocket where a pack of Camel blue cigarettes sat, his lighter just barely visible.
“A lot them move down there because they know it’s a favorite spot of ours. I tried scarin’ em off at first, didn’t want them running into any of the usual assholes who hang there. But that only encouraged them. Three weeks ago, 17 kids were living in that alley. As of this morning, there’s only 14. At first, I just thought they’d moved to a better place in the city. But there’s this one kid, Jules Adams. Told me all about how she saw a shadow with fangs take Colton Taylor. He was the first kid who vanished. Then told me that she heard Hank Giaccione yelling about fangs. She told me that, and when I brought her a coffee this morning--”
“You gave a kid coffee?” Tim asked.
“Quiet, Tim. The adults are talking,” Jason waved him off. “Anyway, I brought her coffee and donuts, but Jerome said she vanished just before sunrise. Jerome said he saw giant sharp teeth dragging her down the alley.”
“You’re like four years older than me,” Tim griped.
“We’re supposed to believe that shadows that have teeth are stealing street rats, Todd?”
“I came back from the dead, in case you forgot. I basically raised you.”
“You did not!” Damian shouted.
“Then who wiped your ass when the other ninjas wouldn’t?”
“The ninjas didn’t want to wipe his ass?” Tim asked as he emerged from the evidence corner with a time gun. “Jesus, how much did you poop?”
Dick intervened as Damian began turning beet red. “We’re getting off topic,” He wrapped an arm around Damian, drawing him fully against his side. “What do you think it is, Jay?”
“Sounds like some witchcraft stuff to me,” Tim interjected as a yellow blast of energy blew out of the barrel of the gun. A bat who had been unlucky enough to be downrange suddenly exploded into a giant bat, to which Tim noted: “Huh, guess they really are evolved from Megachiroptera. How ‘bout that.”
The next round fired was neon green, and a very startled and confused bat crashed into the nearest cave wall.
“Tim, stop shooting the bats.”
“I need to figure out how this thing works,” Tim muttered as he wandered back to the evidence corner.
Jason watched as Tim’s mop of messy hair vanished around the wall.
“Is he still looking for Bruce?” Jason asked once it was just the three of him.
“He’s still convinced that he’s not dead.”
“I mean, the boss man thought I was dead. So, did you, Dick. If there’s anything this family is really bad at, it’s staying dead. Anyway, I thought it was witchcraft like Tim did. I talked to Swamp Thing while I was down in Florida vising Roy and he said it didn’t sound like any magical being he’d ever heard of. Then I was thinking about it; the shadow only comes out at night. There’s no report of a shadow with fangs appearing during daylight. I don’t think it’s witchcraft. I think it’s just some psychopath.”
 Dick’s dreams were worse that evening. He was back in the big top. His parents and Bruce were standing in the same spots they were the night before. But the crowd was a writhing mass of black, twisted shadows roaring for a jump. A whip of the black shadows rocketed from the nosebleeds, connecting with Bruce’s back. He was shoved off the platform, his face as stoic as ever as he plummeted down. Feet away from the dirt, he turned his head and looked Dick in the eyes.
“The shadow knows,” He said before his neck broke.
 The next night found Red Hood, Robin, and Batman perched on the various run-down buildings that guarded Crime Alley. Beneath them, kids dressed in ratty old clothes both too large and too small for them scrounged about in the alley for scraps of food. They were all quiet as they watched. If the kids knew they were there, they didn’t acknowledge them. For that, the assembled bats were grateful. It helped them in their hunt. Hours passed. They switched buildings. Ate some Jokerized burgers. Damian beat Jason in four games of rock, paper, scissors. Jason gave Damian a noogie. Dick had to remove a shuriken from Jason’s side.
They did this for 6 days straight.
It had been a week since Jules disappeared. Jason was becoming frantic. The shadow would strike again tonight, he was sure of it. He could taste it like he could taste the staleness of the cigarette he was currently plowing through.
And Dick was nowhere to be found. He’d been trying to hail him all night on the comms, even going so far at one point as to send one of the kids to the police station to turn on the signal. There had been no response.
“Hood to cave,” he murmured. “Tonight’s the night. I could really use some backup. Or, whatever.”
“You know, you’re really bad at asking for help,” Tim responded, the sound of his grapple firing over his comm. “Bats can’t make it tonight. Robin said he had a bad night. He’s down for the count; or at least till the knock-out gas Agent A gave him wears off.”
“Jesus,” Jay breathed. “That bad?”
“He nearly clocked Robin. He’s in a bad way. Don’t worry about briefing me, I’m all caught up.”
Jay noticed one of the cardboard boxes was now leaning to the right, when it had been drifting left towards collapse at the beginning of the evening.
“For the record,” Jason said as Tim landed to his right. “I believe you. I don’t buy it that Bruce is dead.”
The white covered eyes of Tim’s cowl narrowed as he watched his older brother. “Do you really?”
“Speaking as a former dead person myself, yes. Now, I think our perp is down there. Let’s move.”
 The next morning found Jay and Tim, sitting at the table covered in bandages and brooding. Dick joined them. He had dark circles under his eyes which only made the paleness of his face stand out. He sat in his usual spot, to the right of the head seat. None of the boys said anything. They just sat. Alfred entered quietly, serving each one their favorite breakfasts. Chicken and waffles for Dick. Pancakes buried underneath breakfast sausage, bacon, and hash browns. Eggs benedict with a side of yogurt and strawberries for Tim. Cheese stuffed kaek for Damian, with a nice cup of tea.
They ate in silence.
Damian’s plate remained untouched.
 Alfred left the room to go retrieve Damian for his morning repast.
Jason sighed. He really wanted a fucking smoke.
Tim finished his yogurt. He needed to get back to finding his dad.
Dick swallowed a bite that was too big. He wanted his dad to be alive again, so he could get some sleep.
“Master Damian is missing.”
“There were 14 kids this morning,” Tim jolted in his seat.
 Dick decided that he was going to fight off sleep until he could find his youngest brother. It didn’t feel right to see Bruce in his sleep while his son was missing. The bats tore apart Crime Alley, asking every kid for help, taking every piece of evidence. Any criminal unlucky enough to mouth off to Batman that night got a taste of their own teeth.
“It’s almost as if he’s back,” Red Robin whispered to Red hood.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Hood responded.
Eventually, they end up in the Iron District. The snarling of the Batmobile echoed through the derelict buildings. All the clues and evidence they’d collected in their fear and rage was leading them to the original Wayne Enterprises factory. Where their father’s wealth had been quintupled during the industrial revolution.
All the signs were pointing them to the smoke stacks that loomed higher than any others in that area.
The car drove through a loading dock, then straight to the center of the building where the stacks sat. They were out of the car before it was completely still, charging towards the man-sized opening at the bottom of the middle one. Dick charged in first, Tim right on his heels. Jason checked his guns, then stepped through.
 A long haired, very bearded, Bruce Wayne was leaning against the wall with a regular tenant of Arkham Asylum unconscious at his feet. He held a bruise covered Damian in his arms. Those glacial blue eyes were filled with fire.
“He brought me back,” Bruce whispered.
27 notes · View notes