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jadelynlace · 3 years

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Hey just went on a 4.5 hr binge reading your amazing work!! I was just wondering if you could do somthing with ivar reacting to the reader saying she is pregnant and his reaction to when she's in labour? In ink drinker?? You're amazing and I love your work!

Hello! That’s so sweet of you, thank you. Welcome to the crazy world!

And I know I said my requests are closed but Ivar & kids? The kill shot. It’s long & funny & emotional and I hope you all enjoy. I cried.

☞ catch up here

You were late. You were late and in your haste of life, you only noticed two weeks past where you should have.

“I’m late” You texted Ivar.

“For work?” Is what he replies.

You nearly threw your phone across the threshold, the cry of delirious laughter on your lips at Ivar’s far too perfectly timed response. It had been madness with him back at work; catching up on two years' worth of delays, overbooking himself, and coming home in the middle of the night. Sleep was never easy for him, he had turned into a man who needed an orgasm to so simply think about closing his eyes. And the nights of fumblings between the sheets, soft moans and heavy breathing, Ivar telling you how he loves you, only helped him.

And you knew his pullout game sucked.

The magenta double lines that grace you back from the porcelain sink hitch your breath. After a step closer, two glances back, they remain there, almost smiling up at you. You can’t dwell on those marks, already telling yourself the tale that it was incorrect, but the other two tests, of the other two manufacturers, yielded the same promise. An ocean of chill runs down your spine, tugging against your tailbone and snapping into you like a pluck of a guitar string, propelling the sensation through to your toes. Finding your hand across your abdomen was a motion you didn’t even realize you had started, but the path was so plain. If your heart could leap from your chest and hug you back, it would.

When you hear the creak of the garage door it’s not nearly as late as you had thought Ivar would be home. The medley of vegetables in one pot, the boiling pasta in the other, and before you can even speak, Ivar wraps himself against your back.

“Hey, handsome,” You hum, melting against him and he only squeezes tightly.

“Hey, baby,” His lips rasp into your hair. “Missed you today,” Ivar adds as his nose trails the curve of your skull. “Are you making pasta primavera?”

“Yes,” You sigh and you’re certain you could fall asleep like this. “I got you something,” You then say, still swaying slightly with Ivar.

“Yeah?” He rasps, finally pulling away from you for you to turn. His hair is already down, glasses where they belong for once, and he smiles when you catch his gaze. You’re quick to scurry away, yelling something about turning off the stove, and then you’re back, a small package in your hands.

“It’s the most expensive gift I’ve gotten you,” You tease as the box shrinks when it’s in Ivar’s grasp.

“I told you that I don’t want another mustang, baby,” Ivar replies, pulling the ribbon off. “I like my Jeep.”

“It’s not….it’s not a mustang,” You snort.

“Oh, thank god,” Ivar says, shivering slightly as the thought leaves him.

“You’ll like it, I promise,” You nudge and he finally lifts up the lid. You thought you could hear his breathing hitch, fuzziness in his eyes already starting as the positive pregnancy tests stare back at him.

“No you’re not,” Ivar whimpers, “Are you fucking with me?” And his voice is meek, drowned out with emotion and you only tear up too. “No, you’re not,”

“We’re gonna have a baby, Ivar,” Are the first words out of your mouth. “You’re gonna be a dad,” You say, watching how his eyes move to your face, towards the test, shocked, mouth agape and he only whimpers. When he sets the box on the counter you’re there to wrap to fill his grasp. Falling into his arms and you can hear the slight sniffle from above you. It pulls one from you too, finally grasping the mental concept that Ivar really has dreamt about this moment his whole life. You wiggle slightly, pulling back and Ivar’s hands are still on your hips. With red eyes, he moves one paw to wipe the tear that’s threatening to escape.

“I love you,” Ivar whispers and it makes you laugh when you repeat it back, hands on his cheeks as you bring your mouth to his. The kiss isn’t hurried, Ivar’s lips move as though he’s hardly focusing on the task and you can hear another sniffle as you pull back. Forehead resting along his and his eyes are closed.

“I found out this morning,” You whisper to him.

“I’m waiting to wake up from the dream,” Ivar replies, and his eyes are still shut as he speaks.

“Your pullout game sucks, Ivar,” You say and that makes him laugh, thick from his stomach, and his eyes finally open as he pulls you to rest against him.

“This isn’t news to me, Y/N,” Ivar says. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby,” He adds and when he does a new wave of tears starts in his eyes.

“Your mother is going to castrate you,” You say into the cotton of his shirt and he laughs again. “You and me Ivar,”

“Against the world,” He replies. “And as parents.”

His phone rings from next to him, your name on Ivar’s screen, and halfway through his sentence, he stops to smile. Excusing himself for a moment, he answers:

“Hey baby, I’m just finishing up with a client, I’ll call you right back,” And the line goes dead. You blink to yourself several times when you hear silence in your ear and as you look to the towel at your feet, you almost feel as though you’re going to cry.

After ten minutes you stop caring if he’s shooting the breeze with the person, and you’re dialing for him again as you lean against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, baby,” Ivar answers and it pulls the anger, anxiety from you and you suck in a deep breath. “Baby?”

“My water broke,” You simply say.

“When?” Ivar asks quickly and he’s standing, leaning his shoulder to hold his phone as he throws the closest thing he can reach in Sigurd’s direction. White eraser bouncing in front of him as he moves his gaze from his magazine to Ivar. “I’ll be right there,” He says. “Her water broke,” He calls to Sigurd and the man only offers a thumbs up.

“Ivar—fuck—Ivar listen to me, do not drive like a mad man,” You grit into your phone. “I need you here for this, alright?” Your words fall as he climbs into the Jeep.

“I won’t,” Ivar replies softly. “I promise. I’ll see you in a minute, alright?”

“Alright,” You say back.

“How far apart are they?” Ivar asks and you only smile.

“Still far enough,”

“We’re going to get to meet her,” Ivar whispers and it makes your smile bigger.

His next call is to Floki, the phone ringing through Bluetooth and there’s a hum when he answers.

“Yeeeeeeees, Ivar?” Floki sings.

“Y/N’s water broke, I’m on my way home,” Ivar replies, and the laugh he’s known his whole life rings through the man’s mouth.

“Take a deep breath for me,” Floki says.

“I’ve taken several since I got into my car,” Ivar replies. “It’s the only thing keeping me from bursting into flames.” And they both laugh.

“I’ll head to the shop now, keep me in the loop. Oh—and Ivar, you have two hands. If she has to break one as she delivers your baby girl, so be it.” And the line goes dead. Ivar groans, his heart hammering behind his seatbelt and he doesn’t even bother to turn the car off when he parks in the driveway.

You’re in the same spot, hand crossing the bump and your eyes are stuck on the clock when you hear the door open. Another press of pain mangles its way through you, as if your guts are trying to come through your navel. Ivar calls your name and you turn, a soft smile on your face.

“Just put everything in the car,” You say and Ivar nods, completely ignoring your direction and coming towards you.

“I know you’re a medic—I know how many babies you’ve delivered with Hvitserk there, but this is different,” Ivar hums as he tips your chin, sealing the words to your mouth as he kisses you. “This is our baby,”

“I’m scared,” You whisper and Ivar moves his arms around to your back.

“I am too,” He admits. “Let’s get to the hospital,”

Despite how the nurse offers the wheelchair, you shake your head; walking has been the only aid to your contractions and she nods. Ivar’s hand is in yours as you’re laying along with the linens, thumb brushing your knuckles and he’s on his phone.

“Did you call your mom?” You ask.

“No,” He answers, eyes not moving to yours. “Only Floki so he can get to the shop. You need to focus on you right now,” He says, finally lifting his head to look at you. Brows towards the ceiling and the small smirk only makes you pout.

“You should try to get some sleep—”

“Baby,” Ivar says and you nod. Ivar moves only minutes later, sketchbook taking up his lap as his hand stays with yours. Your phone buzzes with a Snapchat from Hvitserk, quick zooming in of Engine 1 as one of the firefighters walk by it. You take the liberty to pan the room, from your gown-covered self, Ivar to your left and back to the windows on the other side. Less than ten seconds pass before his contact picture graces your screen.

“That’s how you tell me?” Hvitserk all but shrieks and even Ivar can hear it through the phone. “How long have you been there?”

“A few hours,” You answer back.

“Guys! Our Lieutenant’s in labor!” Hvitserk calls to the guys. “Put me on speaker—Ivar?”

“What, brother?” Ivar groans back.

“When we work labor calls, I always tell the mother that I have two hands—”

“And if she needs to break one so be it,” Ivar finishes for him, and his brother whines. “Floki said the same thing.”

“Fucking Floki,” Hvitserk mumbles. “We’ll be thinking about you two, and send us pictures.”

“You don’t want a video?” You tease.

“Nope—I know you well, but I don’t need to know you that well!” Hvitserk laughs.

“Oh, come on, it can be practice for you and Thora,” and you can see the man blush without even being in front of him. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“You’ve got this,” Hvitserk says and the line goes dead.

By the fourth time you find your legs in the stirrups, you’re about ready to take one out to grant the nurse’s face. The needle for the epidural was big, it was big enough that Ivar didn’t even look, that you as a regular needle handler, even felt shy from. When you feel the contraction roll through only a few seconds after the last one, you nudge Ivar. His head on your shoulder flies up and your look answers his question before he even has to ask it.

“Dad, are you cutting the cord?” The nurse asks and Ivar looks back at you as if he needs your permission before he can think of an answer.

“Yes,” Ivar says back and he’s by your side, hand tracing your bent knee, sliding your thigh and it helps to calm you. Before your first push, you’re already crying, Ivar’s there to pull the hair from your face as it sticks to where you’ve started to sweat. As you curse him, his last name, his size and weak pull-out game and Ivar only agrees with each word as they come through your lips. Before you’ve even crowned you’ve decided that you don’t want to do this anymore.

“I hate you right now,” You hiss, and Ivar nods.

Twelve hours of sitting, standing, walking, swaying, trying almost everything in the manual to help progress her just a bit further than the last hour. Ivar adorned in scrubs, trying to contain his excitement, your partner in crime trying to experience it with you as well as he could, attempting to leech some of the pain in the meantime.

One week shy of her due date, Ivar’s there to see his daughter born. Through tears and strings of curse words, sweat-slick clothes, she is finally here. Watering eyes flicking to yours as her cry fills the room. Your whine is there next and she’s against your chest the minute she’s able. IV poked hand coming to cup her diapered rear, head against the pillow and you’re crying. You’re crying as Ivar’s lips brush your hairline, as he’s crying, as the head nurse films the moment per your request. Ivar studies the newborn in utter disbelief, eyes switching from its cotton-covered head to your face, overstuffed with pure adoration.

“I’m so proud of you,” Ivar whispers in your ear, his hand covering yours over the child you two created together.

“Look at her, Ivar,” You whisper and he is, he hasn’t stopped yet, the tuft of dark hair on her head that matches his own as her small hands balled into fists. His daughter laying against your chest and he has to wipe his eyes. There’s an upset from her for a brief moment, wiggle and a cry, and instinctively Ivar’s lips shush her, his voice lulling through her ears and she quiets. “That’s your dad,” You say to her.

Ivar’s moment for the skin on skin finally came and he’s next to you. Seated, shirt off, and the nurse hands him the bundle. Pink cotton on an inked chest as Ivar’s hand pats her bottom, nearly swarming the infant as a whole. You can’t hear him, but you see his lips moving, eyes peeking down at the bundle that’s looking up at him. A full conversation on his side and you’re tearing up again, snapping a picture for Hvitserk, your parents, and his, for Floki and Ivar laughs as he watches her yawn.

“Oh, am I boring you, miss?” Ivar coos and you smile. “I know you’ve had such a big day,” He says. “You have no idea how loved you already are.”

Ink Drinker Tags:

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full masterlist can be found here.

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barnesandco · 3 years

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Little Hands (II)

Series Masterlist

You, Bucky, and Anastasia pay Bruce Banner a visit.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 1836. Square filled: “You don’t wanna know.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Sad Child. Needles, fear of. So much overthinking.

A/N: Gosh, I’m so glad I got this chapter edited in time. I hope you like it and I’m sorry for skipping out on y’all last week! To make up for it, there’ll be two updates this weekend, so look out for the next chapter tomorrow! Lmk what you thinkkkk

The Avengers Compound is every bit as spectacular as you could have possibly hoped, and yet you’re unable to fully appreciate it because of the sheer absurdity of the situation. Your hand is in the vice-tight grip of the supposed daughter of your neighbor, who happens to be an Avenger.

Said neighbor is pacing back and forth in front of you as you sit in Bruce Banner’s laboratory, with Anastasia beside you while you wait for Bruce to arrive. Ana is remarkably calm, her young features – the round cheeks, still-wet eyes – made mature by her abnormal silence. Something about her makes you think she’s used to this kind of tension. Something about her screams war-child. Perhaps this grip she has on you is the first demand she has made in a long time, the only tantrum she has ever been allowed to throw.

While you aren’t particularly experienced with children, you think you want her to feel safe with you, because it seems she hasn’t been elsewhere. Ana’s eyes flit around the room in the only behavioral indication of her youth – a childlike curiosity, shining in the face of this fancy, new place that gleams like a toy store. Every now and then, her gaze jumps back from the alien appearance of the lab to her father (?) who seems intent on wearing a hole in the tiles with his pacing.

It is beginning to wear on you: both Bucky’s pacing and Ana’s steadily increasing anxiety. He hasn’t said a word to her since he opened the envelope, only asked that you accompany him to the Compound seeing as Ana won’t go alone with him (You would have gone with him even if that hadn’t been so. Though the nature of your relationship is ambiguous at times, the strength of your friendship is not. You’ll figure this out. You won’t leave him alone). Clearly, there is some unspoken memory that has him convinced the claim in the letter is plausible. Neither of you would be here if it wasn’t.

Bucky doesn’t talk too much about his past. He has offered a few of the shattered shards of his past reflection to you in the few night-caped moments you have hammered on his door upon hearing shouts across the hall. Between that, and what you know thanks to Black Widow’s file dump, the big Avengers’ in-fight in Europe last summer, the consequent resolution to the Accords, and Bucky’s publicized pardon, you can guess at the traumas that lurk in the depths of him.

They’re traumas that are closer to the surface of his eyes now, pulled forth by this new life, this little soul that has no business with such dark things, and the implication that this holds. Ana, innocent as she may be, is an insinuation of what else might have been unwillingly torn from Bucky.

You don’t want to think about it, because it hurts to do so, because you care for him, in many, many ways. It seems that Anastasia is also starting to tire of it. With every step Bucky takes, her hand tightens on yours. Fortunately, soon, the door to your left opens, and Bruce Banner enters his lab.

He's appropriately disheveled for this hour in the morning. Under his pristine lab coat, one of his shirt buttons is done into the wrong buttonhole, but his eyes are alert, frantic even, though you get the feeling that this is a man always on the edge of escape.

Bucky lets out a breath he seems to have been holding at the same time as his shoulders tense. “Thanks for coming so early, Doctor Banner. I wouldn’t have called if—”

“You never call, so I know it must have been important. But it looks like I’ve kept you waiting anyways,” Banner says, his eyes widening as they move from Bucky, to you, to the little girl at your side. “What’s the matter? You know I’m not a medical doctor, right?” He asks, putting a work bench between himself and his visitors.

Bucky clears his throat, and doesn’t quite know how to say what he needs to. After a few more seconds of hesitation, in which Banner waits patiently, Bucky extracts the envelope containing the fateful letter from his pocket, and hands it over.

The furrows in Doctor Banner’s brow multiply spontaneously, and when he looks up, Bucky gestures with a subtle nod of his head to Ana. He has yet to explain your presence, but you think Doctor Banner is a smart man. It won’t take more than Anastasia’s tight hold on you for him to put two and two together. Sometimes, a scared child is just that, no matter how unusual.

Most of their ensuing conversation is held at a lowered volume, set by Bucky, probably out of courtesy for Ana. You can hear snatches and phrases, most of them confirmations of things you had expected and some, not so much. Lobby security cam footage… fingerprints… paternity test… serum… blood sample…

By the end of it, some facsimile of a plan seems to have evolved between the two men, because Doctor Banner turns away with a smile and you, taking it as a welcome, stand and approach him. He rounds his desk and shakes your hand, exchange introductions though he hardly needs one, and then, he crouches, the way Bucky had, and offers Ana his hand.

“Hi, I’m Bruce.”

“Ana.”

Bucky steps forward. “Anastasia—” the name is clumsy on his tongue, because he’s scared. You can see it, and you hope he knows you are, too, but you’ll stand with him regardless, “—Bruce is going to check that you aren’t sick.”

“I’m okay.”

“We need to be sure.”

“Okay.”

Banner pulls out a chair, and you’re about to sit Ana down on it, when she pushes you gently into it, and sits on your lap. You can do nothing but wrap your arms gently around her, so she doesn’t fall. The apology in Bucky’s eyes is melted with a sympathetic smile. It’s alright. A child developing an inexplicable affection for you is not the worst thing to ever happen to you.

Ana is warm and a comfortable weight on you, and you hold her as loosely as you can, feel the movement of her chest against your arms with each breath. Her hair is a mix of wool-thick and silk-soft against your chin, smelling faintly of the sugar-sweet strawberry scent found in children’s shampoos. Someone took care of her.

Someone she isn’t asking for. What kind of child doesn’t ask for their mother, past the initial, momentary heartbreak? How has she come to terms with the apparent change in custody, when the new custodian hasn’t?

Whether Bucky is to be the new guardian has yet to be determined. You can see Bruce pulling out a syringe and preparing a vial. You wonder if she’s scared of needles. Bucky flinches at the sight of them, even now. He’s said that his disdain for the cold clinicism of medicine dates back to long before Hydra. Medical equipment reminds him of worrying that his best friend was going to die. It’s the fear he has harbored longest, longer than his fear of war, of gunshots in the dark, of blood on his hands.

Ana shares it. When she sees the needle, she screams, and Bucky lunges forward to help you hold her in place. She’s so, so much stronger than you thought and while you can hold her limbs, her head thrashes about, and so does her torso, making it impossible for Bruce to get to the inside of her elbow.

In the chaos, your eye lands on a trinket on a nearby desk, sitting there like a peace offering, literally beckoning to you. “Hey, Ana,” you whisper-yell, trying not to get hit in the jaw by her head. “Do you like animals? Cats? I have a friend who has lots and lots of cats, and I could take you to see them.” It’s working. You’re out of breath, but she’s quieting. Most little kids love cats. You love cats. “I think Bruce has a toy cat. See, over there?” You dare to lift an arm to point at the maneki-neko on the table. Ana stills. Her eyes follow the hypnotic movement, and the syringe at Ana’s elbow does its job.

When the bandage is put on, you and Bucky let go with twin nervous chuckles of relief and disbelief, and Bruce puts the vial in a machine. Ana hops off to approach the desk, and bats at the paw waving at her like a mirror of it.

“We should have the results soon. I think the others are starting to wake up, if you want to say hi,” Bruce says, taking off his glasses and wiping them on the corner of his lab coat.

“Maybe later,” you say, seeing that Bucky is hardly in any position to converse casually with his teammates right now. Not to mention, it’d be a lot of work to explain Ana, especially before having any sort of confirmation of who she is.

Bucky pulls out a chair next to you while Bruce opens a laptop a few counters away, and an x-ray machine lifts its head behind Ana, who has moved on from the lucky cat, and is stroking the leaves of a flowering plant.

“Peace lily,” Bucky says, startling you. You look at him, the bags under his eyes, the way he almost looks his age right now, and fight the urge to hold his hand. “It’s the first flower I bought for my apartment. I put it in a community garden after a nightmare about the war. Didn’t feel right for me to have it.”

He's talking about the Second World War. The war always refers to his first war. You think he’s talking about peace, and not the lily, after what he’s done. After what he was forced to do.

“It’s not your fault,” is an automatic response, and never enough, especially for the war, because at least he was in his own senses, even if he was drafted. It always elicits a self-deprecating laugh, but right now, he’s too tired for even that.

Right now, he can only watch as the x-ray camera follows Ana around the room, from the peace lilies, to an Amazon elephant’s ear, to a strange sculpture made from Coca-Cola cans glued together by what looks like spider-webs.

Too soon, Bruce calls you over to his work station. You follow Bucky, one eye on Ana.

“She’s yours,” Bruce says, and Bucky inhales sharply. Now, you do take his hand, stroke the metal ridges with your calloused thumb. “But she has disproportionately more of your DNA than her mother’s.”

“What does that mean?”

Bruce wrings his hands. “She’s not a complete clone, but nearly a genetic copy. 80% of a clone, if you will.”

Bucky is growing increasingly uncomfortable, shifting next to you. “How’s that possible?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

#SSB2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #reader insert #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu #fanfic

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koskareevesismyqueen · 4 years

Text

Wrecker, a medic and a loth cat

Pairing: Wrecker x gn!reader

Word count: ~850

Rating: general

Warning: Loth cat is injured so will involve blood, injuries and medical treatment however nothing overly gory or descriptive

Author notes: I could have written a lot more on the medical side for this but I decided to keep it short as I know not everyone wants a description of how to correctly suture a cat...also is it entirely Star Wars correct? Nope lol but we roll! I hope you enjoyed and if you have any clone (or other star wars) prompts drop them in my ask!

You stretch out on the bench, soothing your cramped hand. Exam revision was stressful but coming out with the Bad Batch for a weekend away had helped. It was nice to have a break from making mind maps and flash cards in your cramped room to making mind maps and flash cards on the marauder. You pick up your data pad and flick to the next song, the ship filling with smooth lofi beats. Yeah, installing a speaker was definitely one of Tech’s better ideas. You consider whether its time to take a break and grab yourself a cup of tea, a fancy kind that Wrecker had picked up for you when they were passing through Naboo on a mission, when you hear your comm click indicating that they were back. It was a small precaution that had been taken after they had virtually sneaked up on you once and had almost earned them a shot from the blaster that they had insisted you keep by you when you were alone. You hear the hissing sound of the hydraulics as the ramp opens, then the ship is flooded with the sound of the boys arguing. Obviously.

“Wrecker, you can’t bring back every waif and stray we find!” Hunter snaps, clearly irritated by whatever Wrecker has done this time.

Wrecker lets out a whine. “It’s injured, Hunter, did you want me to leave it to die? When we have a perfectly good medic on board?”

“Trainee medic!” You shout back, although you doubt they heard you.

“If we had left the loth cat it only stood a 31% chance of surviving,” Tech points out which everyone retaliates with a groan.

With a sigh, you sweep your work back into your folder, place your colourful gel pens in your pencil case then stand up. You quickly stretch, soothing out the ache in your shoulders from sitting hunched over for so long, as you prepare for the Wrecker and the loth cat’s entrance.

Wrecker walks through first, carrying the little loth cat in his arms.

“Hang on, Wreck. Let me just clean the table off first.” You grab the cleaning solution and a fresh rag and begin wiping the table down. “Can someone grab me the medpac please?”

Once you’re happy the table is clean, you motion for Wrecker to pop it down. The cat lets out a little mewl, clearly unhappy to be out of Wrecker’s arms.

“Hey, I think it’s taken a liking to you Wreck,” you say with a smile as you tickle it under the chin. The loth cat rolls over, exposing the deep cut under her elbow. You quickly examine it and decide it’s an easy fix, and also why Tech had diagnosed the cat with a low chance of survival.

“You want the good news, or the bad news first?”

Wrecker looks up at you uncertainly, fear filling his expressive eyes.

“Is it going to die?”

You let out a soft chuckle.

“Nope, she just needs cleaning up and a few stitches. Nothing major. A little bacta and she’ll be as good as new!”

“She?” Wrecker asks, his face lighting up.

“Yep,” you say with a slight wince, “That’s the bad news. Your new loth cat is about to turn into several new loth cats.”

“WHAT?!” Hunter demands as he steps up to the table. You swat him away as you pick up some cotton pads and antiseptic and begin cleaning the wound. Almost like she knows you’re here to help, she lies as still as possible, occasionally moving her head to inspect your handiwork. “No way. We are not having loth kittens running around.”

“Too late,” you say with a grin as you check that all the blood is clean from her fur. You push the dirty material to the side and instead grab the little pack ready for you to stitch the wound back up. “You think you can really get Wrecker to part with her now?”

“Please sarge, I’ll look after her. I’ll keep her clean, and feed her, and play with her.”

Hunter lets out a sigh and agrees with a face that says it’s entirely reluctant.

You carefully finish the stitches then apply a layer of bacta spray, finishing off by giving her an affirmative tickle under the chin. She quickly begins to purr and Wrecker scoops her back up. He sits down and you snuggle into his side. You both watch as she stretches her little paws out and begins making muffins, her little claws flexing as she digs her needle like nails into Wrecker’s stomach. To his credit, he takes it like a champ even though you know how painful it can be.

“Well, we’re parents now,” Wrecker says with a beaming smile as he leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

You chuckle in response. “And soon to be grandparents. They grow up so fast, ay?”

You and Wrecker lie there together, eventually falling asleep with the little loth cat peacefully curled up in his lap.

♡♡♡♡♡

#bad batch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #bad batch x reader #wrecker x reader #wrecker

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Reunited.”

Just tying up some loose ends, also see the post I made right before this about a stupid story that happened to me while writing this. It is kind of funny :)

The day was hot, very hot, and the sun beat down on fort harmony with merciless intent. Over the tarmac, the sweltering heat caused little mirrages, as puddles of water to appear and then vanish down the runway.

The heat was oppressive enough that no birds sang, and even the roaring of the engines had been dulled by a day that none of the en were willing to venture out of the air cooled airplane hangers.

Only one figure remained outside staring up at the blue sky and the oppressive sun beaming down upon her.

Waffles limped over the hot pavement, the tarmac burning the delicate pads of her feet, but if she stopped walking it would only hurt even more.

Her tail drooped towards the ground,

It was so hot.

She made it across the tarmac and down to the little shaded area where someone had set up a discarded cardboard box and a bowl of water.

Her feet continued to ache, and she licked at them with her long, pink, tongue though that only brought momentary relief from the burns.

Across the tarmac two men watched her form the open hanger door. It wasn’t that they hadn’t tried to get her to come inside, they had, it was just that she wouldn't, and no amount of cajoling or bribing her had worked. THey felt bad of course, but there was nothing much else they could do.

One of the men felt bad enough to brave the heat and bring over a bag of ice which he pressed onto her paws for a time before having to return to his work.

Waffles laid her head down and closed her eyes ears drooping.

So hot

Overhead an engine sounded. It was a familiar noise by now,and only one of her eyes cracked open to watch the shuttle descend from the sky and come to land on the scouring earth. She closed her eyes again, listening to the distant sounds as the shuttle doors open, and human voices swelled up around her.

It was then that she was hit with the smell.

IThe heat washed over her face and straight up into her nose with a smell she had been waiting for for months now.

She shot to her feet ears up nose lifted.

Her tail began to wag

And despite the heat of the burning tarmac, she raced across the open space yipping and barking and whining for all she was worth

***

Adam stepped out of the shuttle into a sheer wall of heat. It was like being punched in the face by the sun. The borrowed flight suit he now wore was immediately sweltering and he fanned himself with one hand already beginning to pant.

Behind him Sunny and the other stepped down onto the tarmac.

Sunny Immediately yelped and sprung back into the shuttle

Adam couldn’t help but laugh, but that was when a high pitched whining noise reached his ears. A whining barking, yipping noise that immediately had him turning towards the sound eyes wide.

It started out as a small shape barely distinguishable from the sand and grass to the side of the tarmac, and then, as it raced towards him it coalesced into a furry bullet.

“Watffles!” He shouted, taking a few steps down from the ramp as she raced up, and leaped into the air.

He caught her mid arc staggering back a few steps as she attacked his face was the kind of love that could only be bestowed by man's best friend. She whined and whimpered and her tail wagged and her body wriggled so hard he had a tough time holding onto her.

“Hey pretty girl!”

Wavvles whimpered and barked some more licking his face and the side of his head repeatedly to the point where his hair was damp.

He laughed and held her to his chest, her tail thudding against his side and back.

She didn’t seem very inclined to get down, and the Tarmac was so hot he worried about her paws burning. So instead he held her like a large baby in his arms, and once she was finally done licking his face, she rested her head against his neck and chest nuzzling every now and against at his chin just to remind him she was there.

Not that he could forget an 80 lb German Shepherd.

Behind him the others were laughing and awing.

Ramirez had videoed the whole thing, and continued to video as they made their way across the tarmac and too one of the hangers. Waffles didn’t seem to have any intention of getting down.

Finally they stepped into the hanger, and reluctantly he set her back on the floor, though she insisted on sitting on his feet every time he came to a stop.

Across the room there was a clamouring of voices, and A group of at least five people came charging across the room.

His family hugged him so hard, he thought he was going to crack a rib, and he laughed right along with them as they stammered out nar incoherent sentences.

Eventually his mother pulled back wiping her eyes on hand resting on his cheek the other on his shoulder, “Boy, you need a shave.”

He smiled, “Yeah, can't say there are many razors in a wormhole.”

“I knew it, I knew it. Our baby brother is invincible.” David announced, slapping him on the back so hard he nearly stumbled forward.

Waffles looked up at him her tial thudding against the floor, her tongue lolling form her mouth

“Where were you!”

“Not sure if I am allowed to say just yet, but i'll tell you when I know what I am allowed to say. Let's just start by saying that it wasn’t pleasant, but it’s a great story, ad it involves miraculous escape planned and executed by yours truly in a fantastic manor.”

HIs mother sighed, “At least you came back wit hall your body parts in tact this time.”

She turned her head to look down and smiled, “Dr. Krill we are so glad you made it back too. We were devastated to hear that you had gone missing as well.”

The doctors saved a polite hand, “No matter.”

She gave him a very light hug anyway, careful to avoid crushing him or something, which he seemed to enjoy despite himself.

Thomas crossed his arms, “Hey, is anyone gonna thank me for bringing him back in one piece?”

Martha sighed and grabbed him up in a hug, “Thank you for bringing yourself home in one piece.” She pulled back, “ How was the war.”

HE grinned, “It was awesome, we mounted a revolution.”

She shook her head, “I can’t take you anywhere because you're either discovering extraterrestrial life or overthrowing corrupt governments.”

Thomas grinned, “Plus I think this has finally made me realize what I want to do with my life.”

Adam smiled as he watched his brother, this was arguably the happiest he had ever seen thomas: who was known for his sullen nature and moodiness. Life hadn’t been easy on him, and he had jumped and bounced from one thing to another in between relapses.

“Oh, and what is that?”

He motioned back to where the rest of the group was standing, “Well I was talking to Ramirez and Maverick and I…. I think joining the marines would be good for me.” He got a slap on the back from their father, who seemed more than pleased with the idea.

Martha assigned, “Of course I should have seen that coming.” She smile, “I am proud of you. Just try not to overthrown anymore empires while you’re at it.”

He grinned, “No promises.

Adam got hugged a few more times after that seeing as no one was really willing to believe that he was alive.

Even the men he didn’t know from around base stopped by to shake his hand and tell him how glad they were that he was back.

The UNSC sorely missed him.

At some point Krill insisted on doctoring him, and dragged him back into the medical bay where he did all he docterly things, blood pressure temperature pulse. Sunny stood in the corner with both sets of arms crossed over her chest.

He might have asked her to wait in the hall, but he had a feeling that that request wouldn’t go down so well, so he let it go.

Krill examined the three large gashes on his chest and where they had healed over into large, livid puckered red scars.

“Hmm, I could probably fix this. WIth a consultation from a plastic surgeon.” He muttered

Adam waved him off, ‘It’s alright Krill, I think they look kind of badass, sort of a tarzan king of the jungle sort of vibe.”

Krill glowered at him, “Well one of these days you are just going to have to pick ONE vibe, because space cyborg pirate Tarzan is getting to be a bit of a mouthful.”

Adam laughed.

Sunny harumphed glowering angrily at the new scars.

Krill turned to look down at the ones on his upper forearms, which hadn’t scarred up yet, but where still in the process of being scabbed over, “And what are these.”

“Er…. I had to get the attention of the keepers, and that was the only way to do it without them heightening security on me.”

Sunny’s fists clenched even further.

Krill flipped over his hand, which was still raw and red, “Let me guess”

Adam shrugged sheepishly, “Well you know how it is.”

He turned his head to look at Sunny and quickly looked away as her stare bored a hole in his forehead.

At the end of the medical bay, the door slid open and a soldier stepped inside hurrying over to offer him a set of ACUs and a pair of boots, “These should fit sir, the brass will be here in half and hour, and will meet with you in the war room… I… mean the conference room !A.” He turned on his heels and walked out, big boots clomping on the tile as he went.

Adam changed quickly and managed to hunt down a razor in enough time to get a quick shave in before meeting with his superiors. He didn’t understand why other men wanted a beard so much, it was really nothing to be happy about, and it made his face itch. Felt so much better when the thing was finally gone and he was free.

Sunny was a little miffed when she had to wait out in the hall as he and waffles stepped into the conference room, which he could immediately see why they called the warm room. It was less like a conference room and more like mission control. The room was large, lined on all sides with massive monitors which cast pale blue light down onto the large, elongated table with its holographic touch screen.

As soon as he walked in an entire room of officers stood from their seats.

“Commander!”

“Its good to see you, son.”

“We thought you were dead.”

“Earth is going to be happy to hear you’re alive.” He smiled and greeted the others with a firm handshake despite how tired he was, “It takes more than a wormhole to take a human out.” He said taking the seat offered to him near the head of the table.

Admiral Kelly had broken from her usual serious demeanor into a smile, “We are glad to have you back, Commandr. A lot has happened since you left.”

“Can I get a quick summary?”

“Well we learned that the balck hole, or I suppose wormhole now that we know, was created in part by the burg working with the voiceless kree. The voiceless have long been in conflict with the voiced and allied with the burg to turn our ire against the voiced. However, they pose no significant threat without burg technology and so we focused mostly on the burg. Your ship was of course, in pieces, but nearly all you crew survived as they were picked up by other ships in the near vicinity. You were pronounced MIA as was Dr. Krill. ONly three on your ship didn’t make it, and one of our ships was permanently crippled with over 50 casualties and 100 additional injuries.”

HE grimaced, but held back on the guilt for a moment.

“After that battle, the GA came to council, and war was declared on the burg. We sent in the GA armada and over 1000 shock troopers on to the face of the planet. While there a small team comprised mostly of your old crew discovered that the burg king was being imprisoned in a cavern below the throne room and allied with him to replace the queen with a successor.”

He had heard that part of the story , but it didn’t cease to amaze him.”

“Beyond that it was actually quite simple.”

“And my ship?”

“We will get to that in a moment, commander, but now its your turn.”

He nodded and sighed hand to his head, “Where to begin. Of course you know I initiated the shatter protocol when it seemed there was no possible escape for my crew. I stayed behind to initiate assuming, like you, it was a black hole. However, when I didn’t die and was shot out to some unknown location, it appeared as if it was a wormhole instead. I managed to crashland the command deck on the planet below, which was habitable. It was an alien world, but seemed rather…. Jurassic…. In nature. I managed to salvage the emergency kits from under one of the crew seats and survived for a week or two on the beach well fed and warm, however,while I was out in an attempt to boost a radio signal, I ran into some sort of alien creature which attacked me. The wounds I received were pretty bad, but I managed to kill it. I was losing blood fast and probably wouldnt have survived if the Omnidroids-”

“Wait, I’m sorry, the WHAT!”

“Sorry, sir, The omnidroids are what I nicknamed them because they look like something form an old movie. Think large ball with five big stumpy legs and a tiny head on toop.”

They nodded and he continued.

“Anyway, I ran into a group of them, and they helped with my sounds. I couldn’t understand them, and I am pretty sure their speech is in a much lower register because it was like listening to whales talk. Anyway, they brought me aboard one of their ships, and kept me there for a day or two. When we landed I was let out into an enclosure of some sort, turned out to be some kind of alien zoo.”

They stared at him.

He stared back.

“Your kidding?”

“No time for joking, commander.”

He shook his head, “I am not joking. I am serious, the enclosure that I was in had perfect temperature plenty of water and lots of food, but I could see other alien creatures outside the window and above me, just looking at me. Drones came in every now and again to feed me or clean the pen.”

They staired in silent awe.

“Anyway, from there I concluded it was likely they didn’t know I was sentient, so I determined that escape was possible if I let them think that. I started trying to figure out if I was being watched, and their response time if i was. Once tht was done I picked an appropriate time to escape, and used the iron eye armor I still had one from meeting with the Kree and pried open the bars before setting all of the other creatures loose. I found Dr. Krill on my way out, and we hijacked a shuttle.”

“How did you know how to get back?”

He shook his head, “I didn’t. But that was when the space dragon showed up.”

They stared at him again.

He held up his hands, “ I swear I am not making any of this up. That is exactly what happened It created some sort of wormhole and I ended up in the middle of a burg battle in space.”

“So there is an entire alien society separate from the one we already have.”

“It seems so?”

“And the shuttle?”

“It was handed over to GA scientists for examination and potentially reverse engineering.”

They nodded.

He waited for them to say anything else before.

“So…. my crew is safe but my ship?”

They shook their heads, “Is gone,” THey held up a hand to cut him off, “However it was actually a stroke of good fortune as we have been building new ships for the fleet over the past few years, and one of them was close to completion. So, using the scraps leftover from your ship we were able to finish the job.” They leaned forward, “Commander, despite any issues we have had with your commanding in the past, we have determined that to judge you by the standards of the old military was a faux pax on our part. Space is new, and requires something from men that it hasn’t required before.”

He waited to see where this was going.

“The new armada will be nearly five times the size of the old. The captains as they are now will be promoted to fleet commanders and will be over their own unit of ships. The ship that the harbinger was recycled to make, is twice as big as your old ship with room for over 1000 crew members. It has the latest in alien and human technology and is the most advanced space vessel humanity has ever seen.”

It was an important reminder at this point not to pee himself out of excitement, so he kept his face stony, though he wanted nothing more than to jump around like a little girl squealing.

“However, since the captains would be promoted to fleet commander, that means that you will have to be promoted against as well.”

He paused.

“I… but I haven't been commander for all that long.”

“The UNSC fleet is growing at a rapid rate, and to keep up with it, we are going to have to adapt rapidly as well.”

“So, commander, do you accept?”

He paused and looked down at his hands, “I’m not moving to a desk job, sir.”

“No, no you won't. But you will be commanding a larger ship and thousands more people. Do you think you can handle that? He paused again looking down at his hands thoughtfully.

“Yes, I think I can.”

333 notes · View notes

kazoo5480 · 3 years

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Ruby eyed Killian as he opened the door, and when Emma came in the door she squealed running toward her.

“Are you insane! I was terrified when you disappeared! You didn’t answer your phone, I was so worried” Ruby admonished while hugging her in a rocking motion. She kissed Emma’s cheek leaving a red imprint, and Emma smiled.

“Thank you, Rubes. I needed exactly what you gave me” she said and hugged her friend.

Ruby nodded and glanced at Killian. He stepped forward and Ruby hugged him, whispering in his ear that she had just been trying to protect them both.

He nodded, and Ruby cupped his cheek. She handed her keys to Emma before they could ask, and said she would have food ready for them on their way out.

Killian walked into Emma’s room and noticed her bed looked very slept in. Like a nest of pillows and blankets.

“Swan, did you have guests?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Ruby and M’s slept with me,” she said and his heart squeezed.

“C'mere, Swan” and patted the bed. She sat and he cupped her jaw. “No more running, I’m not, I need you to not either. Do you need space? We argue, I’ll give you space but we don’t leave our house angry, or scared. Ok?” His eyes bore into hers, and she nodded.

“Ok. But what if we need actual space?” She asked moving to stand.

He shrugged. I’ll get a couch for the office, sleep in the shop. But no, Granny’s isn’t our safe haven when we fight. That’s something I’ve been thinking about too" he said.

Emma looked at him curiously. “What do you mean? She asked.

"A house. For us. More space, I don’t know. It was just a thought” he said as he shoved her laptop bag full and zipped it.

Emma didn’t respond, and when he looked at her she sat in his lap and put her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry again. My rationale was that I ran somewhere nearby where I could straighten myself out. You had Graham, but my lack of communication sent you to a dark place. I trusted you, I knew you wouldn’t do that to me. But I needed the space to make sure my feelings were under control, that I wouldn’t hurt you just out of retaliation for your horrible ex-girlfriend. I didn’t plan to run out of town, that’s why I came here. A block away, I just needed to make sure that I was able to be rational, tell you why I did this to myself, and apologize to you” she said softly, and he let her continue.

“I hurt you by not trusting myself. I don’t know how to make that up to you. I am sorry you felt alone, I just was so afraid I’d say something to make it worse when really by saying nothing made it worse than words probably ever could have. I’ll just try to be better for you, every day.” she finished.

Killian wiped the stray tears on her cheeks away. “Ground rules Swan. No running. You wanna yell, fine. You want to run, you tell me why, and then you can yell some more when I won’t let you run. You just can’t do that to me, it made me feel insane because I lost the one person I depend on. Who held my happiness inside of her, and while on some level I knew you had to be nearby, I couldn’t say a word" he said, swallowing.

“You didn’t pick up calls, I didn’t know where you were. Had it been me who stumbled in and saw you in that way, I would have probably hit the guy too. The difference is I would have stopped, and asked if you were ok, and taken you home. You ran, like a ghost with no way for me to find you. I get it from your past, the abandonment, I forgive you, but I can’t have you do it ever again. It isn’t fair to me” he finished.

Emma nodded and hugged him. “I promise” she whispered and he hugged her tighter.

Killian kissed her, “now let’s get you home. We can watch all 7 Harry Potters since I probably won’t be letting you out of my sight for a while,” he said with a small chuckle.

Emma nodded, “fair enough”. She set her forehead against his.

“Are you sure that you can forgive me?” She asked and he nodded.

“I did the moment you left the note on your pillow, I just wish you’d have said where you were” he whispered.

“I knew you’d break the door down, and I wasn’t ready,” she said, stroking his hair.

Killian grabbed her bag, and she took one last look and they headed home, grabbing the bag off the counter from Ruby.

Emma unpacked quickly and changed into her pajamas wrapping one of Killian’s flannels around her as she ate her grilled cheese watching Harry Potter. Killian polished off his burger, and Emma laid atop him snuggling into him.

Killian’s phone chirped and he opened it, Emma watching the TV. Marco emailed him. He kissed Emma’s hair and said he would be right back, and headed into the bathroom.

Marco had sketched something incredibly similar to the photo, and he had priced out different stones giving him an idea. Killian typed out the number, one he had crunched every which way to make sure it was a smart choice and emailed him back asking what his options for the stone, the ring, and Marcos work would be totaled together.

He brushed his teeth and plugged his phone in. He smiled. Marco had said it could be ready by June, if not earlier. He shook the thought away and smiled at Emma curled up. He came back, and she sat up making room for him.

"Can we get a bigger couch? Like a sectional? She asked and he laughed beneath her cheek.

"Why? You don’t want to share couch space?” He asked her.

“No it’s not that, but it would be nice to get something more comfortable, maybe with one of those chaise things we can snuggle on together,” she said, her bottom lip jutting out and he laughed.

"As you wish” and kissed her forehead.

Emma headed to bed and snuggled into Killian. “Is it cold in here to you? She asked him.

He shook his head and felt her forehead, and frowned. "You don’t feel warm, do you not feel well?” He asked.

She shook her head, “just cold” she said.

“What do you think about a dog?” He mused as he played with her hair.

Emma looked at him, “I always wanted one,” she said with a small smile, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a little hopefulness.

He smiled,“ let’s get one. Someone for you to run with,” he said.

Emma smiled, “We don’t have a yard, the concrete out back would hurt its paws,” she said sadly.

He thought about it and nodded. “What if we fostered one for the holiday season? Graham always says they need foster homes since the staff wants to be with their families.”

“I think that would be okay,” she said, “just a foster until we have more room.”

“Are you allergic to anything?” He mused. She smiled and nodded, “penicillin.” He was surprised, but it was good to know.

“Are you?” She responded, and he shook his head, “not that I know of, but that’s good to know. Is August?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I should probably update my forms,” she said absentmindedly.

“Forms?” He asked her, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, medical forms, emergency contact information. I can add you, and keep August” she said.

He nodded. “I should probably do that too. Graham is mine,” he said. Emma nodded and kissed his jaw.

“You really aren’t cold?” She asked him again, and he shook his head pulling her closer. He started worrying, what if she got sick.

She curled her legs, tucking her feet between his calves. Killian yelped.

“What the bloody hell is that? You’re that cold?” She smiled and nodded at him.

“I’ll plastic the windows this weekend,” he said and kissed her forehead.

“I love you” she whispered, her head tucked under his chin.

“I love you more than anything. Sleep, I have a busy day tomorrow” and cuddled her tighter.

Killian’s breath evened out, and Emma couldn’t sleep. She laid there thinking, unable to turn her brain off. She began reading work emails, and deciding which cases she would take and those she wouldn’t. She knew she wanted to quit her job, but she also knew she had to give Graham an answer.

She rolled over on her side, looking at Storybrooke real estate. A large Gray victorian was for sale. It looked like it needed a lot of TLC, but it wasn’t crazy expensive. She would run past it tomorrow.

“Emma, sleep” Killian grumbled pulling her back into his chest, curling around her.

She shut her eyes, and finally drifted off to sleep, his body heat warming her.

Killian snuck out of bed and dressed, opening the shop up. He had a full day and was grateful for it. He had a ring to buy after all so he should probably try to keep the garage as full as possible.

He texted August and said he did want some help with stocks after all. Maybe a few investments were not a bad idea. He also thought about Emma’s approaching birthday, and his thought was interrupted as the new neighbor Ingrid pulled into the lot.

He waved and walked out to greet her. He apologized for his behavior, and she smiled knowingly. “

I’ve met Emma, she is lovely,“ she said and he nodded.

She needed help with her new ice cream truck and asked if he could have it towed, it needed quite a bit of work and a paint job. He happily accepted and promised to drop by around lunch. She left her car for an oil change, and he said he would drive it back to her when he came to see the truck.

Billy walked up the lot and Killian waved him in, and he turned on the radio getting to work.

Emma got up and pulled her email up, groaning when she saw a new case waiting in her inbox. She read the file, it was something local in Portland, so she agreed and said she would take it up tomorrow. That would be the last one she decided and would tell him after she turned the skip in, and got paid.

She headed down, Killian was under a car so she lowered the music waving to Billy. “Jones?” she called out.

Killian slid out and sat up, and she knelt before him. Pulling her phone out she showed him her maps, “I made sure you had access, I promise not to ever turn it off, even if I get mad. Ok?” she said and he pulled her to him and kissed her.

“Enjoy your run” and he kissed her again and she stood up, watching him slide back under the car.

Emma put her headphones in, and thought to the gray house, typing the address into her app and following the route. She hit play, and her music came to life. She tried to focus on the scenery, the people who smiled at her as she ran by, waving back. She tried to pick apart the last few days, tomorrow and analyzed why she was even running past this house.

She found herself running along the road, the beach and water to her right, and she noticed the houses were spread out further here. She wondered if she was lost, and then she saw it. She slowed to a walk stopping outside the white picket fence.

The house was massive and looked like it was in quite a state of disrepair. She noticed a flyer box on the for sale sign sitting on the lawn. She grabbed one, and walked around the back of the house, taking it in. The lawn was overgrown but there was a good size garage, three cars maybe, and the yard had a big tree, a lot of sun, and privacy.

She looked at the flyer again, and it was a pretty big house on the inside, whatever that looked like. The photos looked older, but she knew it wouldn’t be right to look at it without Killian.

When she got back she went upstairs and changed, heading to the market. She grabbed everything for the week, and some stuff to take to Portland with her on the off chance she was stuck overnight. She started making stir fry, and Killian walked in as it was almost done.

“No offense love, but you need a shower,” he said and kissed her neck. She laughed at him and told him to scoot. Killian headed down the hall, and she finished up, setting the dinner aside.

She stripped off her clothes and got in the shower. Killian’s back was to her and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” he said and turned around smiling down at her.

“Never said I would,” she said and lifted on her toes to kiss him. “But I do need a shower,” she said.

Killian hummed in appreciation, and grabbed the showerhead, holding it over her, and she started washing her hair, and he poured a generous amount of her body wash in her hand, rubbing it over her back, and slipping his soapy hands around, washing her everywhere except where she wanted him.

He was driving her insane on purpose. Emma smiled, let him continue, and began smearing the soap everywhere he wasn’t touching her, giving him a little show. Killian sat on the bench while she rinsed and shaved, and she watched as he took himself in hand, clearly trying to kill her with sexual tension.

Killian watched her close her eyes, sighing as the hot water ran over her body, her full breasts rosy pink, the cloud of vanilla encompassing the shower. He watched as she rubbed the soap off her chest, sliding her hands down and she threw him a saucy smirk, turning around and letting him take in a full view of her ass.

He groaned, his hand gently tugging his shaft, his skin flushed from the steam and before he was too far gone, he sat back, the cool glass against his back. Emma stood before him and kneeled. She tugged his lips to hers, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, and his arms banded around her pulling her closer.

Emma ran her hands down his chest, her nails scraping over his thighs, and he smirked at her, she kissed her way down before taking his thick cock in her hand and running her tongue across the weeping tip. She felt Killian’s hand weave into her hair, and she took him inside to her throat.

“Gods love, just like that,” he said and she sucked softly, swirling her tongue around the head before pumping him, and licking him sac to tip. His fingers tightened, scraping her scalp. She went back to doting on him, gently caressing his sac, and taint, paying special attention to the thick vein that ran up the length of him and he moaned her name loud enough for it to echo off the tiles.

“Emma” he cried, and she went faster. He was rutting his hips, holding her hair so tightly that he was fucking her mouth. She let him set the pace, and continued rubbing and cupping him, urging him on. She felt him swell and knew he was getting close. She sucked harder, her tongue rolling over the tip of him, and he growled as he came in her mouth.

Emma slowed her movements, gently letting him ride out the aftershocks and she looked up and him, his head tipped against the glass and eyes shut. She smirked and stood, washing her face and brushing her teeth quickly. She looked over, and his chest was heaving but he was looking at her with a wicked grin.

She shut the water off and reached for a towel which he promptly snatched away. He backed her against the tile and tossed the towel over the glass. “Oh love, I’m not done with you yet” he purred, and his fingers traced lines down Emma’s sides, tickling her.

Killian smirked as she giggled at him, and he glided his hands up to cup the heavy weights of her breasts, running his thumbs across the peaks. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the green darken, and she bit down on her lip. He tugged and rolled each nipple, getting her attention.

“I want to hear you,” he said and leaned in to kiss the column of her throat. Nipping and sucking the sensitive points, until she finally sighed, and her hips bucked. He smirked and felt his cock begin to harden again, felt the need for her crackling in his veins. He tugged her away from the wall and guided her to face the bench, lifting her leg to it, opening her.

He knelt behind her, and kissed over the globes of her perfect ass, leaving light bite marks in his wake as he moved her foot over slightly to widen her. Emma gasped above him, her hands planted on the glass in front of her for balance.

Killian licked and kneaded her cheeks until they were pink, and he smirked. He moved his way up, kissing her spine as he rose, and Emma trembled, goosebumps rising on her flesh. He nosed along her shoulder, lightly biting down on her neck, his tongue running over the marks left behind.

“Killian” she whispered, and he ran his palms across her belly, and hips until he finally ran his fingers across her slippery folds earning him a cry that would haunt him. “Please” she begged.

“Mmm, I like when you beg. What do you want, Swan?” He murmured as he continued touching her so delicately, that he could see her hands curling against the glass in frustration as he avoided the pressure he knew would make her body sing for him.

“I want you” she panted.

“Where?” he asked in a taunting tone.

Emma looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes flashing defiantly, and she lowered her leg off the bench to the ground. She grabbed the towel and left him there, and he cocked his head at her, as he watched her towel off.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” he said to her.

“I didn’t ask you to edge me as punishment,” she said and he could see her getting mad. On some level he wanted her mad, wanted her frustrated, to fuck their way through this, but he had to tread carefully with her right now, he could see the emotions flickering across her face. Anger, fear, anxiety, frustration.

He strode to her, pulling the towel gently from her and letting it pool on the floor. She said nothing, he gripped her hips, sliding his palms over her ass, and pulled her against him. Emma’s eyes were filled with fire when he looked into them.

“I am not punishing you, my love,” he said, nipping at her lip, sinking his teeth into it, his tongue running over it, and he felt her hands go to his chest, her nails scraping his skin.

Emma felt his fingers digging into her ass, hard enough to bruise her. He was pushing her towards something, but she didn’t know what it was yet. Killian had never used sex as a weapon or punishment, she trusted his instincts, to always show her love. But right now, his eyes were blazing with blue fire.

Emma took a deep breath, her body trembling. “I am desperate for you,” she whispered. “I need you to love me” she admitted feeling ashamed at her admission. Killian released her ass and his arms banded around her back lifting her, he walked her to the bed, and laid her down, stretching out on top of her.

“I do love you, more than anything Emma,” he said and kissed her hard. “I need you, I am just as desperate for you, to have you want me, to love me, to choose me,” he said and kissed her deeply. Emma moaned as he rubbed his cock through her folds, his hands tangled in her hair.

“I would do anything to have you be mine, give up everything for you. So long as you were mine, and only mine” he practically growled.

Emma’s mind was reeling too many thoughts, and his words, his hips driving her mad as they rubbed against her, her arousal skyrocketing.

“I am yours” she sighed, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, taking a deep pull on it, making her back arch. “Just yours,” she said in a breathy cry, and he released her nosing at the opposite one, teasing it to a tight peak.

“Why won’t you make love to me?” She asked, and the tone of her voice sounded broken.

“I am. Focus on me, on us, what we are doing right now, in our bed. What do we always do in our bed? Tell me,” he said harshly, his eyes boring into hers as he hovered above her.

“Love. We always love each other” she said softly and he nodded.

“I am loving you, I am showing you I love you, only you. You are mine, and I am yours, whether I fuck you, make love slowly to you, or hold you, I am only ever showing you love Emma” and he guided himself inside of her, pushing the tip of his cock into her slowly.

Emma cried out, as he inched in, pumping in and out in shallow thrusts, preparing her to take him in. Her walls so tight and hot around him, he groaned at the intense feeling shooting up his spine, his heart hammering in his chest. Emma’s eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, her breaths coming in short pants, ghosting over his lips. They snapped open the moment he was fully seated within her.

He snapped his hips and plunged into her as deep as he could in one stroke, filling her, stretching her, erasing every inch of space that she was feeling. His hands were everywhere. His skin touched every inch of hers that they could manage, and he never took his eyes off hers.

Every thrust, he never looked away, couldn’t look away. He kept his eyes on hers, forcing her to understand that he was hers, he wasn’t leaving, she owned him as much as he owned her. He pushed her legs wider apart, her hands clenched in the sheets, gripping them tightly.

Her green eyes sparkled with unshed tears, he leaned down to kiss her swollen lips. Their tongues tangled, sucking, and massaging each other’s so that they could hardly breathe. Emma felt like she was drowning, in pleasure, in him, in the feelings he was pouring into her with each thrust.

She locked her legs around his hips dragging him deeper inside, her arms around his neck hanging on as he fucked her hard, their moans and cries, skin slapping echoed through the empty loft.

Killian was reaching his breaking point, his release building quickly, and he wasn’t going over the edge without dragging her with him. He reached down, lightly rubbing the swollen nub, and Emma cried his name, her eyes snapped shut.

Emma was going to come, it was brewing hard inside of her, and it was going to tear through her, every roll of his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing so deeply inside of her, she closed her eyes at the onslaught of sensations, tensing around him. Her thighs trembled, and he wasn’t slowing down.

Emma’s nails were digging into his shoulders, almost painfully. He felt her clench down on him, her whimpers and moaning music to his ears, and the sensation of her squeezing his dick so tightly almost made him let go, but not without her. He changed angles, hitching her legs off his hips he pushed them to her chest and plunged in hard and fast, their headboard shook against the wall, banging against it with each thrust.

As soon as he pushed her legs to her chest, pushing in deeper than ever before, Emma screamed.

“Oh god” she chanted over and over as her orgasm rolled through her, and Killian roared as he spent himself inside of her, unable to hold it back any longer. His hands clasped around her wrists and he held them above her head pinning her still, as he emptied himself, nearly collapsing from the force of it.

Killian stayed hunched over her and pushed her legs down collapsing on her chest, releasing her hands as his heart pounded. Emma’s own heart was thudding beneath his ear while he felt her fingers sift through his hair lazily, both of them too tired to move yet.

He turned his head resting his chin on her chest. “Did I prove my point?” he asked with a light laugh, his chest still heaving and Emma huffed out a giggle and nodded.

He dipped his head down and kissed the skin over her heart. “I love you” she whispered, and he kissed her skin again in response. He pulled out of her slowly, and at this point didn’t care if the sheets got dirty. He pulled her into his chest, and they dozed off wrapped in each other.

Emma woke up, and glanced at the clock, it was nearly eight, she felt sticky, and went into the bathroom shutting the door. She used a washcloth and cleaned herself up, and tugged her robe on. She went to the kitchen where the stir fry had been long forgotten, but started the rice anyway, and heard the water run in the bathroom.

Killian came out in his sweats and grabbed a glass of water. He came to Emma and picked her up, setting her on the island and kissed her.

“Nice nap?” he asked her and she nodded, and hugged him.

“I have to work tomorrow, and I wanted to show you something,” she said and he nodded.

“Just to portland?” he asked and she nodded, sliding off the counter and grabbing the folded flyer out from under her laptop.

“I will do this job, and I am going to put in my notice, which leads me to the other thing I wanted to show you. But it can wait, it’s not important” she said, and he shook his head, plucking the paper from her fingers quickly. He opened it, and his eyes widened.

Emma blushed, watching him look it over.

“You want to buy a house?” he asked, kind of shocked. Emma shrugged.

“I thought we could look at it,” she said quietly. Killian could tell that she was holding something back.

“Talk to me Em, what is this about?” he asked.

Emma went to stir the stirfry that she was heating back up, placing the lid back over it.

“If I quit my job, and we want to buy it, I would have time to do stuff myself. I know it is a lot of work, but I thought you might like it. I ran past it, grabbed the flyer. I didn’t decide to buy a house without you, I just took the flyer, and I thought you might like the water being out your front door is all” she said and turned around, feeling her cheeks turn pink.

Killian looked at the paper, “This is Gold’s old house” he said. He read through it, it was a big house, a really big, old house. He thought about the ring he was about to buy, and a house wasn’t factored into that right now too. He needed to talk to August.

Emma leaned against the counter, “I would buy the house. In cash” she said, and Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What do you mean in cash? Who has that much cash in the bank? Do you even have a bank account?” he teased.

“August handles the money, I have it, I just never used it” she shrugged.

Killian’s head was spinning. “You just have 230 grand sitting in the bank?” he said skeptically. She shook her head.

“August handles it all, he invested everything we had ever earned aside from rent. He wanted us to be sure that we would never be poor or worry about money ever again, learned everything about stocks and that stuff, I have it, and probably the renovation costs too if I cashed some stuff out. I haven’t told him yet, but he sends me the statements” she said.

Killian leaned back, kind of shocked. “Em, you didn’t want to adopt a pet, two days ago you were hiding from me, and now you want to buy a house? I am just a little lost here, and the money thing, I don’t care about that. But a house, a big house is a huge step here, and that makes me nervous” he says honestly.

Emma nodded. “I know, I didn’t expect it. I just ran past it and poked around the yard looking at it. It was odd, I felt something I haven’t ever felt unless I was with you, or August” she said avoiding his eyes.

Killian stepped toward her and tipped her chin up, “and what is that, love?”

“Home. It felt like it could be a home, a real one” she whispered, and looked down almost seeming embarrassed. Killian wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. He sighed.

“We can look at it, ok?” Make an appointment for the weekend, or when you get back from work, we have to go get your car this weekend too,” he said and she nodded.

“Do you think we will ever do things in a normal time frame?” She smiled at him.

He grinned back, “probably not. We are absolutely mad, but it’s ok. It is us.”

He went to her laptop and pulled the listing up, looking over some of the photos, the place needed a lot, but it had good bones, and he thought of Liam. When he walked into the shop which was a dump, he said it has good bones, and they built the business in it, the good bones holding it up.

He smiled as Emma slid a plate to him and grabbed her own, and they sat looking through the pictures. “It might have good bones, we will see. Just don’t get your hopes up ok?” he said and she nodded.

“So tell me about the skip tomorrow,” he asked her. She told him, it was a quick find she thought, a few hours, and she already tracked his debit card to three ATMs, so she had an idea of where he might be and who to lean on. He was overwhelmed but nodded.

“Are you sure you want to quit?” he asked her as they put fresh sheets on, and climbed into bed.

Emma looked at him, “Do you think I shouldn’t? I don’t have to. I just thought…” and Killian kissed her.

“That wasn’t what I asked Swan, or said. I said, are you sure you want to quit?” he said.

“I know I don’t want random trips out of town anymore. I know I want to be with you, and here would be easier. I don’t think or know if I want to work with Graham but it’s a job, and whatever, and I am sure August would give me work too, so I could do it from home but I would need an office area. We are just a little tight on space up here, so I could use the office downstairs and get a better door if the drills are going” she said.

He nodded, “Ok, as long as you know that I am not asking you to quit. I am not telling you to. I don’t mind that you aren’t chasing criminals anymore, but that it is your choice. It is always your choice,” he said and smoothed her curls back.

I know, she said, and he nodded, pulling her into his chest and stroking her arm.

“So a house, huh? I assume a dog? Anything else on that list you have in your head?” he mused.

Emma smiled against his chest, “Not yet” she said.

“That means that there is more, but just not yet?” he asked her, feeling a weird sense of hope flutter in his chest.

She nodded, “not yet,” she said and buried her cold feet between his calves making his whole body jerk.

He rolled out of bed. “That’s it, you are sleeping in socks from now until summer,” he said and pulled wool socks over her feet. He climbed back in and she curled in, kissing his jaw.

“Spoilsport” she teased.

“Aye, I am the spoilsport who doesn’t want frostbite,” he said and kissed her head turning out the light.

“Get some rest, I love you,” he said and she snugged in burrowing into his side.

“I love you too,” she said.

Emma got up and showered, grabbing her overnight bag hopefully for the last time in a long while, and Killian sent her out the door with a breakfast burrito and a kiss. She smiled and got in her car, making one last trek to Portland.

She dialed August, who picked up immediately.

“Hey sunshine, what’s up?” he said.

“How much do I have in the bank and stocks?” she asked, watching the traffic in front of her.

“Are you running somewhere?” He asked.

“No. But seriously, how much?” She heard him typing.

“How much do you need?” he asked.

“Probably 230. Maybe less, maybe more. Do I have that?” she asked.

August whistled. “You are being incredibly cryptic. You’re not asking for ten grand, so tell me why” he said.

She sighed, “a house. I’m considering buying one. Roots and all that,” she said.

He went quiet, and she heard more typing. “You’d have to cash in some stock, but you would still have a healthy portfolio even if we moved some stuff around. Do you want to buy a house? You were just considering leaving” he said pointedly.

“I didn’t run. I needed a breath, and you were right. I took that breath and put on my big girl panties, and now I am interested in a house August” she said irritatedly.

“I want to see it,” he said.

She sent him the link and waited.

“Wow. That’s a whole lot of house. Why is it so cheap, is that on the water?” he asked, and she heard clicking.

“It needs work. A lot of it. But if I can talk the owner down 30k, it could be a good investment once it was done,” she pointed out.

“Em, this place needs like everything from the looks of it. You’re sure?” he asked.

“I just had a feeling,” she said quietly.

“It felt like a home, didn’t it?” he asked.

Of course, he would understand. “Yeah, or the possibility of one. Holidays, and a bunch of things, just a feeling.”

He hummed. “Okay. Well, talk to the owner. See what she says, try to get her to 190. The roof alone will be 30k to replace, not to mention the new driveway, and probably pipes and electrical.”

Emma scoffed, “How do you know that?” she asked.

He laughed, “Emma you called me. I’m pulling permits and records on the house. It’s actually historical,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s just a thought” she said.

“Does Killian know?” he asked.

“Yeah, we talked about it a little. I just wanted to see it, if it was even reasonable, he agreed to look at it, mentioned good bones or something, but not to get my hopes up” she said.

He laughed. “Well, at least he is being smart. Good bones and everything” he said chuckling.

“I don’t know, it was just a question, could I afford it if I wanted it, I wasn’t sure how much liquid I had, I mean I see the statements but that doesn’t equal liquid cash,” she said.

“You lived like a fraternity kid for the last ten years, rarely splurging and I manage all of our money. If you want the house you can get it and not even touch Killian’s money. Did you show him your statement? Please tell me you didn’t” he said.

“No, I didn’t, your stuff is on it too. So no, of course not. Wait, you have access to his accounts?” she asked.

“Just his personal ones, I don’t look at them. But I offered him help a while back if he wanted to do stock options” he said.

Emma was surprised, and then she wasn’t. August made sure they would never be poor again. If the important person in her life was going to be permanent, August would ensure they wanted for nothing.

“I’m considering quitting my job, I am actually on my way to Portland now,” she said.

August went quiet and coughed. “What? Why? He didn’t ask you, did he?”

“No, no. I just did some thinking before the fight, it doesn’t really make me happy anymore. I hate being gone a lot, and I kind of hate not being here, and if I want to come to see you, or travel I want to just go and live that life you and I always talked about, ya know?”

“Ah. I see. Well, come work for me. Work from home, make your own hours, but don’t be the fucking deputy” he laughed.

“Hey! I didn’t accept the offer. I feel bad because he does need help, it’s a local dependable job” she argued.

“Don’t ever wear a uniform or I will disown you” he laughed. “Brown is not your color duckling.”

“Ugh, alright mom, I have to go. I am nearly there. I’ll call you after. Love you byeeeee” and hung up.

The moment Emma left the lot Killian called Marco.

“Hello, Marco? Killian Jones” he said.

“Ah, good morning my boy. I saw your response, but since you called I can walk you through it. Is it a safe time to speak?” he asked.

“Sure. Now is good” Killian said.

“The design itself is not troublesome, what size stone do you think?” he asked and Killian looked through his notes.

“between one and two carats, I think the round would look nice,” he said.

“That is a fine choice for Emma. Now, do you have a preference for the Diamond?” he asked.

“Marco, I don’t know anything about diamonds. What are my options? Killian asked.

“Well, a 1.5 carat Diamond, with almost perfect clarity can run quite a lot. But I did some digging around, and I would be able to get you an almost flawless diamond for around Sixteen thousand. I would take no fee because it is for Emma, it would be my pleasure and my gift to you both” he said.

“So the diamond, and what about the setting? What would it be?” he asked.

“Do you want platinum, white gold, yellow gold, or rose gold?” Marco asked, and Killian heard typing.

Killian pulled the picture up, “The photo is white gold” he said, and Marco went back to typing.

“I could do the design, with that stone, the sapphires are small, in white gold and it would total to around twenty-four thousand, waiving all of my fees and labor,” he said.

“Marco, that isn’t fair. You are making a ring” he said.

“I am making something special for a child I was lucky enough to have in my life when I had none of my own. I told you, my gift is to do this for Emma” he said.

Killian scratched behind his ear. “That is incredibly generous of you, but I need you to be sure, I want you to be absolutely sure, you run a business,” he said.

Marco hummed. “Fine, you can pay me one dollar for fees,” he said, sounding like he was smiling.

Killian laughed, “you are an amazing man Marco. One dollar, accepted.”

“When can I expect to see you?” Marco asked.

“Um, I can probably swing a trip sometime after the holidays. Can you email me updates or photos in the meantime” Killian asked, suddenly nervous.

“Of course. I will send you all the details and receipts and call my guy now” Marco said. “You will make her very happy Killian, I am glad for you both. Thank you for including me” he said.

Killian blushed, “thank you, Marco,” he said and the man hung up.

He felt a rush of relief, that was all done. They had plenty of time to figure it out until it was ready, and a year was more than enough time to be together before an engagement.

The house crossed his mind, and just what else might be on Emma’s mental list, but he wouldn’t push. They needed to talk more about all these thoughts he was having, but he needed to get his head out of the clouds and work so he could pay for this ring.

Billy and he cranked out 6 oil changes, two tune-ups, and rolled Ingrid’s truck into the shop when everything was in the lot for pickup.

They stood side by side and looked at it. Billy whistled, “this is going to be a lot of work,” he said, and Killian nodded.

He sat back on the stool and lit a smoke, and grabbed his clipboard. He had Billy crawl under and start calling out things, Killian made a list of parts, and figured out how to get this thing running.

He was grateful when his cell rang, and August’s name flashed.

"Hello August,” he said.

“Jones. You got a second?”

“Sure, one minute”, Killian went into the office closing the door. “What’s up?”

“You two are moving things along arent you?” He said cryptically.

Killian sighed. “Did you call to bust my balls because I am actually working.”

“No, just between Emma’s thoughts, and you, you two are like speed racers. What is the rush with you two?” He asked.

“What do you mean? Did she says something?” Killian got anxious.

“Listen, I think it’s time we do some investing on your part. Emma is covered, but let me play around a bit with yours, put you in our options, grow that little nest egg you are sitting on” August said and Killian heard typing.

“Are you looking at my bank account?” He demanded.

“No, no. But Emma mentioned the house, and I am sure you are already considering a ring, it would be a wise choice to start making some moves to build that egg, and lucky for you, I am good at it” August said.

He scratched behind his ear, nervous. “Aug I don’t know, I need cash right now, and this house, if she wants it…”

“Emma has the house covered Jones” August said like it was nothing.

“That isn’t right mate if we buy a house we buy it together” he protested.

“Well, I know you don’t love her for money, you didn’t even know she had any since she lived like a child. So just do me a favor and let her buy the house. You can pay her back by being wise, and investing smartly to protect the offspring you two will inevitably have with the rate you two go at each other” he said sounding like he was laughing

Killian almost dropped the phone, “Wait. Does Emma tell you about our sex life!”

“No, she doesn’t need to thank god. I can tell by looking at you two, easy Jones. Anyways let me make some moves, give me ten to play with. If I lose it, I will put it back. If I triple it, you can thank me and name your child after me” he said laughing.

Killian laughed too, “you want ten grand to play with, like monopoly? And if you lose it, you put it back out of your own money? Fine.”

“Excellent. I mean I could do twenty. You have over seventy in the savings…” August said like he was talking about pennies.

“August, get out of my account. Ten. Start there, if you do it, I will let you take over, but please get out of my account. Seriously” Killian said, growing agitated.

“Fine, fine. Scott! He said yes”, August called out. Killian groaned.

“Love you both, bye”, Killian said ending the call. God her brother was a pain the ass, he looked at the ceiling pinching the bridge of his nose, a pang of longing for his own brother crossing his heart.

He came out and Billy handed him a completed list. They rolled the whiteboard out, and Billy did a crude mock-up of the truck and began writing. He looked at the clock, it was nearing six.

“Hey man, head out, I will see you in the morning,” Killian said and Billy nodded, just as exhausted as he was.

Killian closed up and headed upstairs to shower. He charged his phone and she still had not called after the text of arriving.

He dialed her as he dressed. “Hey babe, call you back,” she said and hung up.

She sounded like she was running. He sat on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face, and pulled up the tracking app. He followed her, she was most definitely running or driving very fast, but he zoomed in, the dot stopped. He waited a few minutes watching it, still not moving.

What the fuck, he thought. His heart relaxed when he saw it move again, slowly, but it moved. She must have got him.

He waited another hour, and the phone rang. “Swan, are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, um I am going to be a little late,” she said.

“Oh, ok. But you are heading back?”

“Ouch” she bit out and he heard a male’s voice in the background.

“Swan? What is going on?” he asked standing.

“Um, he had a knife, ouch! And he cut my arm, I’m being stitched. Easy man, it isn’t falling off,“ she barked at the medic.

"I’m coming to get you,” he said pulling a shirt on, trying to find his jeans.

“No, no. Seriously ill send you a photo, it isn’t bad, it was just a weird angle that caught me. I am ok, really. I turned him in, and tomorrow I am sending in my notice, I just wanted to get paid.”

“ You really decided to go out with a bang huh?” He said completely unamused.

Emma sighed, “I have had worse, I am ok. Hey, are you done? Can I go? Alright, babe, I am done. I will be out of here in a few and heading home. See you in like two hours or so.”

“Ok, just please be safe,” he said feeling defeated and anxiety building.

“I will. Killian, I love you” she said quickly.

He smiled, “I love you more than anything, one piece Swan. Not tiny pieces, not cut pieces. One whole piece,” he said.

“Aye Aye Captain,” she said and cut the call off.

He smiled and climbed into bed. He turned the laptop on and put on a movie, they needed a tv for in here, seriously.

He went on amazon and ordered a small one and a wall mounting kit.

He woke up when he heard the door shut. Emma came in quietly and went into the bathroom, and the shower turned on. He heard her wince, and was at the door knocking a second later.

“Em, open up,” he said through the door.

She opened the door, looking a bit worse for wear. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I need to shower.”

Killian walked in and took a look at her outstretched arm. It was a nasty gash.

“Do you need help?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“I’ll be out in a few, sorry I woke you up.”

Emma held her arm out of the spray and washed the night off of her. She came out and Killian had Tylenol and a glass of water on her nightstand as he sat and waited for her.

She pulled on a flannel of his and crawled into bed, and he propped her arm up on some extra pillows.

“Thanks,” she said. “I am sorry.”

“Well, we got roughly 5 months in with you unscathed, and if this is your last one, then I say you did alright,” and kissed her forehead.

She nodded and was grateful it was her left arm and not her right. She yawned, and Killian tucked her damp curls behind her ear, and snuggled in closer to her, wrapping his hand around her good one as they fell asleep.

Killian got up with the sun, watching Emma sound asleep. He took in her golden curls in the morning light, her dark lashes on the apples of her cheeks. The dusting of freckles coating her nose. He just soaked her in, completely at peace.

“You’re watching me sleep again, Jones. It’s weird,” she mumbled with a small smile and snuggled into his chest.

He smiled and held her as best as he could without moving her arm. She would need Tylenol, he waited a few minutes before he headed to the kitchen and got everything, laying it on her nightstand. He kissed her cheek and headed down to the shop buttoning his coveralls.

He rolled the garage door up, and lit a smoke, grabbing the list they had started and placed an order for the parts they knew so far, getting a head start.

He grabbed the creeper and had just slid under the car when he heard Emma scream.

He bolted up the stairs and ran to the bathroom, “Emma!” He called and opened the door.

“I popped a stitch. Do you have a thread or a kit? She asked, and he nodded, taking in the blood soaking through the cloth she had against it.

"Babe it’s just a stitch, hurry” she pleaded and he ran down the stairs grabbing the red box.

He ran in and opened it on the counter, searching for the sutures. He found the steri strips and pulled them out, tearing one off.

He took her arm and he pulled the cloth away, Emma winced. He held her arm up above her head for a few seconds, and quickly pulled it down, securing her skin and adding a second for good measure.

Emma watched how quickly he worked, with soft touches. She smiled as he finished. “ Thank you,” she said and kissed him.

He nodded, do you need anything else? He asked, gazing at her softly. Emma shook her head.

Killian nodded and washed the blood off his hands. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need help.”

Emma kissed him and he headed down the hall. She finished brushing her teeth and pulled leggings on. She went to her laptop, popped it open, and dialed her boss.

After a long discussion, she gave her resignation. Her boss was a little pissed but she said after last night, her decision was made. She recommended two people she knew in Boston who did side work, and he appreciated it. She thanked him and ended the call.

She saw a missed text from August but it could wait. She shot a photo and sent it saying she would call later.

She called the number on the flyer, and spoke to a woman named Astrid, setting a viewing of the house up for tomorrow at lunchtime, and that was set.

She looked around the loft, if they bought a house what would they do with the space? Maybe Killian would want to rent it, extra income would be nice.

She slid on shoes and made her way downstairs, there was no way she could box, so she took a look at the whiteboard.

Billy slid out on the creeper and waved, Killian on the phone in the office. He came out a minute later with a sheet and taped it on the board.

“Hi, you ok,?” He asked.

Emma nodded and looked at the behemoth sitting on the lift. “Ingrids?” She asked and Killian nodded.

“Do you need help? I can order parts if you give me a list” she offered and he smiled.

“I just finished, go lay down,” he said. Emma sighed and nodded.

“Oh, tomorrow at 11, the house tour,” she said and he smiled at her.

She grabbed a book and went to sit on her chair, and grabbed her phone. She looked at couches, she bookmarked a few to show Killian, and when he came up for lunch, she began showing him the couches while he ate.

They agreed on one, and she ordered it. She looked around and decided with Halloween approaching, some decorations were needed. She ordered some and realized her birthday was now weeks away.

She booked that little place in Vermont for the week she had planned on and smiled. She was restless, so she went downstairs again, deciding on a walk. Killian nodded, and she headed out.

She walked the whole town and came across a little hair salon. She walked in, and made an appointment for herself, and headed home. She decided to establish an OB and a new doctor here, and she needed a dentist too. She completed her paperwork to include Killian as her contact first and August second for the first time ever.

When Killian finally headed up, Emma was asleep on the couch, a book laying on the floor. He smiled and snapped a photo, tucked it away, and called in Chinese before he hopped in the shower.

Emma woke up and the buzzer was going off. She looked around disoriented and headed down signing for the food. She popped some of the painkillers the doctor gave her and cleaned the cut.

Killian came out in his sweats and plated dinner up. She told him what she did, and he smiled.

“I’ve never put anyone else as an emergency contact besides August. It’s a big deal, and don’t tell him” she warned and he laughed.

Killian told her about August’s financial game, and she smiled.

“Babe, you don’t have to do that. I have enough if we want the house” she said.

He nodded, “well how about the car. Still a go?” He asked and she nodded. “Have you thought about what you want to do yet?” He asked.

Emma shook her head, “a break. Oh! I got the Vermont house booked for next month too” she said and he smiled nodding as she told him all the little details.

They curled up on the couches, and he decided to bring up those pesky thoughts. “Swan?”

“Hmm”

“Do you want kids someday?” He asked.

Emma’s mouth went dry. Not sure what he was meaning. “Like kids, plural?” She asked.

“Aye,” he said back amused.

“I’ve considered it, if it were the right time, right person…” she said.

She looked up at him, eyes searching his. “Do you?”

Killian nodded at her “Someday I do, very much,” he said.

“Ok,” she said smiling, and he kissed her hair and pictured a tiny blonde girl with blue-green eyes, a pregnant Emma, a family. He was really happy he called Marco.

Killian heard the door buzz and went down to the door. An amazon truck was there and the guy handed him his TV. He thanked him and headed upstairs, and Emma was already in bed.

“What is that?” She asked, her eyes widening at the sight of the box.

“A TV for in here,” he said tilting the box.

Emma laughed, “as if we need another reason to not leave our bed” she giggled. He winked at her and proceeded to unpack the TV, setting it up on the dresser for now, and sat on the edge of the bed setting the remote up. He finally crawled under the covers and Emma was sound asleep.

He smiled, turned on a movie on low, and set the timer. He fell asleep thinking about blonde-haired babies and Emma in a white dress.

@sailtoafarawayland @omgmarvelous

@holdingoutforapiratehero @hookedmom @xsajx @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ohmightydevviepuu @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @girl-in-a-tiny-box @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @cassy1511 @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @scientificapricot @cocohook38 @wisfan3000 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @anothersworld @purplehawkcaptain @jennjenn615 @sailtoafarawayland @superchocovian @hookedonkillianforlife87

#emma swan #killian jones #storybrooke #ouat #ouat au #once upon a time

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willadisastercry · 4 years

Text

The part where they pick up the pieces...

tw: discussion of blood, severe breathing difficulties, impalement, loss of conciousness, setting of a bone, needles, near death of a character

Part 2 of everyone gets whumped...

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The ride back to the castle was less than ten dobashes, but it felt painfully longer.

Before Green’s paws even touched the hanger her ramp was already setting down to reveal Coran and Allura anxious to board.

Lance struggled to stifle the groan that the rumbling of Green’s jaws opening produced deep in his throat, setting alight a new fire in his shoulder when the jolt of it sent him forward, the metal still deep in his thigh shifting and letting a new spurt of blood well up and add to the small puddle forming underneath him.

Hunk clamped his hands over his ears and took several shakey breaths before he was certain he had pushed most of the bile that had risen up back down, shifting uncomfrotably to cover his eyes in the crook of his arm in anticipation of the inetsense lighting of Green’s hangar.

Keith didn’t fare well upon arrival either. He had been fighting the darkness that slowly clouded his vision as the pressure in his chest mounted, but the sudden landing sent him sprawling and all the spots he was sore and aching seemed to beat with a new fury as his vision wavered against his ragged breaths.

“I’ve got Pidge! Someone needs to grab Keith and Lance—no you’ve done enough buddy, let her help you...” Shiro ordered as he rose to his feet with Pidge still cradled against his chest, some soft cries escaping her mouth when he leaned back and hefted Hunk up as well.

He ushered his apologies while he waited for Hunk to orient himself before letting his grip on his arm go.

“Um... so you’re saying missing a shoulder bone is a common human injury?”

“More like misplaced, but yeah, wait—PLEASE do not touch, oh my god! Just because it’s missing, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, it’s still there Allura...”

Coran knelt beside Keith who had waved off the helping hand at first but the effort of even bringing himself up to his knees sent him into another coughing fit. The world before him spun and the pulse behind his eyes raged harder than ever, muffling everything the altean said to him before he found himself slumping into his embrace, the sound of his chest rattling was harsh and unnerving.

“Oh, my boy... alright, brace yourself,” was all Coran uttered before hefting Keith up and over his shoulder, the movement producing a stiff sigh while his arms shook from where they clutched then hung down limply as his chest contracted.

“Just relax, number four. Relief will come soon.”

They were just leaving Black’s hangar behind when Pidge uttered her first coherent words, she was mumbling for Shiro and then for Matt, her voice hitching and breaking when she called out for her parents. Shiro just shushed her and cradled her tighter into his chest as he tried his best not to break himself while he ran as fast as he could.

Hunk made his way slowly, using the wall heavily while he fought to keep his balance, Allura checking in on him every now and again when he would stumble while she fought Lance.

His good arm slung around Allura and his injured shoulder hanging unnaturally low as he limped along, his injured leg barely able to hold any weight now.

“This is silly Lance!”

He refused to be carried even though his legs shook so badly his balance was nearly as skewed as Hunk’s.

“What could possibly be so silly ab—agh!”

Allura had stepped away from Lance who lilted and was forced to catch himself by putting weight onto bad leg, biting down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.

“I’m done entertaining this,” the Princess stated before sweeping a grumbling Lance onto her shoulders in a fireman carry.

“Just be glad your travel size,” Hunk sighed wearily.

Coran and Shiro were the first to arrive and activated the sliding doors of the medical facility.

“This bed here, Shiro!”

“Wait, bed? Why not a pod?” Lance asked worriedly.

“I am most disheartened to say that only one pod is adaquately charged at the moment, I’ve redirected the castle’s power to charge a second but the system sustained substantial damaged during the fight... it might be a while before a second is operational,” Coran noted grimly, setting Keith down to sit on the edge of the bed across from the one Shiro was settling Pidge in.

“For now we must assess who truly cannot afford to wait and should it come to it we will conduct the healing process in stages.”

The (semi) walking wounded were just making it into the room when Keith let out a particulary wet hack and wiped the blood that came away off on his sleeve.

“Oh alaran, okay... Allura where are your mice?! We need these suits off now so I can begin my assessment and we don’t have enough hands!”

Coran tossed Shiro a pair of scissors who took over peeling the shredded suit away from Keith’s front, slowly revealing the giant welt that seemed to be his chest and side, all varying degrees of purple and red. His labored breathing made it difficult to work around and slowed the process, so he ended up leaving the more precise work of his shredded back for Coran.

“We must determine who can do without a healing pod for now...”

The mice were doing a swift job of Pidge’s suit while Coran attached wires to her chest and inserted an IV in her arm after getting both arms through a gown. There were dozens of wires now on her small body, a thingy on her finger, a canula around her ears delivering more oxygen though her nose. There also soon dozens on bandages.

The mice picked the large pieces of metal out of her wounds while coran wrapped gauze down her arm and thigh before moving to fully asses her stomach under a dense pile of white already soaked through.

“Pidge first,” Keith rasped as he look across to his teammate, so lifeless and small on the bed. He knew she was physically smaller than the rest of the team, she always had been, but never before had her tiny form scared him like this.

She remained unresponsive and bleeding from way too many places, another puddle quickly forming under her on the bed. Coran was murmuring nonsense about her vitals while preparing a pressure bandage for the largest of the leaking wounds on her stomach. Once it was covered it seemed to stabilize her and made the blaring machines quiet of which Hunk was very thankful for.

“Shiro, wave this scanner over number four’s chest and tell me the extent of the damage. Allura, cut three out of his suit as well, wrap the metal in place with this, use the scanner after. Then scan Hunk’s head, he’s look a tad green, maybe grab a bucket for the lad.”

Allura settled Lance down in a chair next to Hunk who helped himself to an ice pack and tried to keep from passing out or throwing up as he waited, the mice settling themselves on his shoulder and licking his face when his eyes fluttered shut.

Barely any of Lance’s suit survived Allura’s scissors. She cut the entirety of his right sleeve into bits so as to not disturb his shoulder, then rummaged around in the cabinet for a sling. It went on with some protest, but ultimately the stability of it hurt less.

“So strange how a cold block revlieves pain for humans... seems a bit barbaric to me.”

“It’s not barbaric, it’s heaven,” Lance hissed as she secured the last pack with the altean equivalent of an ace bandage and he shook under the delightfully painful sting of the cold against his throbbing shoulder.

Hunk leaned back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, somewhat reliving the exhausting spinning he experienced when they were open as another wave of nausea washed over him, he wouldn’t be able to keep his dinner down much longer.

“You’d better stay awake number two, haven’t had a look at that third eye yet,” Coran almost laughed at himself, but somehow he couldn’t as he worked Pidge.

She was too pale. Too quiet. And while he had managed to somewhat staunch the bleeding for now, he couldn’t remedy what had already been lost. Not with gauze. And not with the pod.

But Keith’s breathing was taking a turn for the worst.

Shiro peeled the last of the top half of Keith’s suit from his arms and asked Allura to help hold him steady while he scanned the already dark expanse of his chest.

His eyes were glazed and his breathing was very labored now, not much getting in and not much coming out.

There was blood leaking from the corner of his mouth now, the stream almost steady.

The scanner blared red as it passed across the front of his body. Four broken ribs, several others bruised, and a pulmonary contusion. The cuts on his back were superficial mostly, some deep and wide enough to need stitches. But that was all expected.

What wasn’t expected was the bleeding in his abdomen.

His liver. The damage was extensive.

Coran looked over when Shiro relayed that bit, Keith was pale and shaking now, the effects of blood loss ringing true.

He was at Keith’s bed in a second, holding his head up limply so he could secure an oxygen mask on his face, his skin was warm to the touch and his face glistened with sweat.

He had no idea how the boy was still coherent, let alone sitting up mostly on his own.

Coran began attaching wires all over to track his vitals, ignoring how he winced under the touch, his head remaining in the crook of Shiro’s arm where it had resided after Allura left with the scanner.

The mix 100% oxygen and an altean herb that relaxed distress seemed to bring his levels up and calm him down. It somewhat and soothed the burning in his throat, but he continued to wheeze, the rattle in his chest as present as ever.

“Can you hear me, lad?”

Keith’s eyes lidded and he looked around, searching for Coran who lifted his chin up and shined a light across his eyes. They were sluggish but followed it accordingly.

“Shiro get him on his side. Begin cleaning the wounds on his back and removing all of the debris. Call out his oxygen saturation every few minutes. All we can do is monitor his internal bleeding for now, but if his breathing takes a turn he’s going into a pod immediately and the shrapenl cannot be there if he does.”

He returned to Pidge and flicked through her chart with all of his diognositics on it shaking his head.

“I need Lance scanned, and pricked,” he said after a moment of deliberation, holding up a finger pincher for blood typing.

“Shiro and Hunk I also need you pricked... actually maybe not Hunk just yet.”

“M’ fine,” he protested, barely able to string coherent words together, the mice squeaking in protest.

“Pidge needs a blood transfusion before she goes into a pod, if I put her in now without having stopped the bleeding... she may bleed out in a matter of minutes, and with the rate that Keith is losing blood into his abdominal cavity, he will too.”

“No need to type everyone, I’m compatible with both. Universal donor, baby! Take my beautiful blood,” Lance beamed holding his good arm out.

“We’ll have Shiro typed as well, you can only give so much since you’re also injured.”

“Pshh, take as much as you need.”

Allura rolled down the remnants of his sleeve until it slipped off.

“Hook up his vitals, Princess. Can you start IV fluids and the donation line like I showed you?”

“Yes, I think so...”

“Think so? You are not—OUCH, hey! Well... that wasn’t so bad.”

The princess stifled her laughs as she attached a bag of fluids to the IV she placed in Lance’s hand, then tied a rubber band around his bicep.

“Shiro, can you finish dressing Pidge’s more minor wounds? Pack the gauze on before you tape, and don’t fret about being gentle. I’d like to take a look at Keith’s chest for myself... Princess after you’ve started the first donation can you type number one?”

Everyone uttered in agreement and Coran sighed as he left Pidge to switch with Shiro.

He sat on the side of Keith’s bed and picked up where Shiro had left off on his back, holding together the wider gashes with surgical tape and packing them all with gauze as well. Only a few needed stitching, but he packed them with gauze for now before bandaging.

“I’ve got to take a look at your front, my boy,” Coran noted as he shifted Keith from laying more on his stomach to completely on his side.

His face scrunched up in discomfort when he did.

There was hardly a spot on his front untouched by darkening bruises, each in different stages of purple and red.

He waved his scanner over the darkest spot on his side just as Lance cried out, the results would take a dobash to calibrate.

“Fuck, AGHhh, owh Allura! I—mmph” Lance kicked his feet out to keep literal tears from escaping his eyes, then clutched at his leg when kicking shifted the rather large metal spire still inside of it, and grimaced again when all of his movement agitated his shoulder once more.

“What is going on over there?!”

“I may or may not have bumped into Lance’s mangled shoulder...” Allura said guiltily as she held Lance firmly in his seat while he squirmed, scared that he was going to continue hurting himself or pull out both of the vital needles in his good arm.

“Erm, Coran you might want to take a look at this,” Allura postured once Lance had calmed down enough to let her move the ice pack, he was exhausted both from the pain and the energy it took to thrash given almost an entire pint of of his blood was now in a bag next to him, not to mention what he’d already lost.

Coran left the scanner as it loaded it’s prognosis.

“Shiro, what did you call this strange phenomenon?” Coran asked as he mused over the lack of shoulder bone at the top of his neck.

“His shoulder is dislocated...?”

“That’s to say, the head of the joint is in another location?”

“Yes...?”

“Where then—oh. Oh, dear. How does one go about correcting this? Altean joints are connected by seemingly much stronger tissues and tendons... this is most unusual,” Coran asked nervously as he looked over Lance’s shoulder to his back where the missing bone was protruding from.

“You put it back into place. I’ve seen it done, it’ll hurt but you kind of just pull depending on which way it went out...”

Coran waved the scanner over it and it blared red, corroborating Shiro’s diagnosis.

“Very well, number one, Lance’s shoulder is indeed dis-lo-cated. You said to just... pull?”

Coran asked quizzically as he removed the sling and took up Lance’s arm straight out in front of him.

“HOLD UP—GAH!”

Lance was thrashing once more and cradling his arm now, sweat dripping from his forehead as he panted.

“How was that, number—“

“HOW WAS THAT?! That was awful! It’s also still not back in place and... jeez, is it warm in here or is that just me?”

Coran waved the scanner over Lance’s shoulder once more.

“Hmm, the injured muscles appear to be spasming. It seems the joint cannot be reduced unless the muscles and the patient are relaxed, the scanner advises a muscle relaxer be injected in the area...”

“Will this do, Coran?” Allura was holding a vial and syringe she had just pulled from the cabinet freshly restocked of human medicines and vaccines.

“Yes, princess! This may sting...” Lance had no energy left to protest. He barely even felt the needle going into his shoulder, though he doubted he’d ‘barely’ feel what came next.

His head hung low as he braced himself, a steady, thumping heart beat the only thing he could really hear at that point. He vaguely wondered if he should tell Coran he was seeing stars or not, thinking it wouldn’t matter in a minute anyway.

“Shiro, can you hold the boy steady... yes, like that. Okay, deep breath number three.”

Lance had just began sucking in a huge breath when Coran pulled on his arm and Shiro pushed on his chest, keeping his body still while the tension on his arm slipped the joint of his shoulder back into place with a satisfactory pop!

He couldn’t even feel the pain or relief that came with the reduction of the injury because his head lolled forward to rest on Shiro’s forearm, his hands on his chest the only thing left keeping the exhausted boy upright as consciousness dripped away and he slumped further.

“Lance!”

“Crap,” Shiro exclaimed, pushing his weight back against the chair and holding him there.

“That’s enough blood from you,” Allura said as she stopped the donation.

“All vitals normal except... blood volume, but that’s expected... heart rate elevated, that should return to normal soon... and blood pressure extremely high, yep. Right, so the boy has passed out,” Coran stated as if that fact wasn’t already blatant enough.

“Think we knew that already,” Shiro laughed blandly, Lance’s head still in the crook of his arm.

“Allura, can you start the line for the transfusion on Pidge?”

She nodded as she unhooked the line from Lance and brought the bag of blood still very warm over to Pidge’s bed.

“Can you set Lance up in a bed for me while I check in on Keith?”

“Yes,” Shiro gruffed as he carefully lifted Lance, trying not to jostle either of his injuries.

Keith hadn’t improved when Coran returned, the IV fluids and oxygen only preventing a further decline in his condition.

“This isn’t good my boy,” he mused, flicking through the report and brushing his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into the touch, his face filled with desperation and slick with sweat from his constant efforting to breathe.

Coran let out a rather aggressive sigh.

“I need a 14 gauge needle.”

“14 gauge? But that’s for... “

“Yes, I am afraid the pressure in his lungs is building and if i don’t decompress now his contusion will progress into a tension pneumothorax and cut off oxygen to his brain and—thank you. Keith...”

He reached for the mask on his face and tried to garble out a few words but none of it was coherent through the wheezes that came with them.

“I know, my boy. Relax, you will feel much better in a moment, I’ve got to roll you onto your back now—I apologize for the discomfort.”

Keith groaned at the new orientation and soon his breathing nearly stopped altogether, his body spasming and his face twisting up as it was deprived almost entirely of air.

It wasn’t just the injuries on fire underneath him, the fluid that had built up in his lungs and chest cavity had moved to block what little air he had been managing to make it in.

“I’m sorry,” Coran offered as he pressed on his chest right next to his sternum and just below his collarbone than found the third rib down and stabbed the large needle into the intercostal space between it and the next.

He had taken the inside of the needle out so it was just the tube that was now letting out a high pitched hiss as the pressure in Keith’s lungs dissipated. He heaved gratefully, choking and sputtering on the renwed ability to in bring air, his throat aching dryly and his head buzzing while blood rushed back up to it.

“Vitals stabilizing... oxygen saturation increasing... blood pressure steady... heart rate lowering... blood volume still dangerously low... How’s number three? Keith also needs a transfusion.”

“Lance can’t give anymore, he’s still out,” Shiro said as he rearranged the wires attached to him and took the needle left from the donation out.

“Allura says I’m B negative. What is Keith?”

“He’s AB positive, you’re compatible but I have reservations about the Galra component of his blood... if he were donating I’d be more hesitant, I just don’t have enough expertise in this area to be confident that he won’t react as if you weren’t even compatible...”

“Just-just do it,” Keith croaked almost inaubidly. “Do it so Pidge can go in the pod. I’ll be fine, j-j-just do it.”

“Alright, number four, but you tell us if anything feels wrong, okay? Allura can you prep Pidge for the pod?”

Shiro dragged a chair over to Keith’s bedside and rolled up his sleeve. Coran tied a rubber band around his bicep and started the donation then went to Keith and got him set up for the transfusion. The line coming from Shiro’s arm connected directly to Keith’s, a small monitor tracking how much was being distributed.

Neither boy said much of anything for a while, both staring helplessly as Coran and Allura situated Pidge in a healing pod. It was dimmer than usual and seemed slower to activate, but Pidge hadn’t moved so much as an inch and didn’t seem to mind the wait.

It was only when Lance woke up again that either were aware their eyes had drifted shut. They didn’t remain that way for long though...

LOL didn’t think there’d be a part 3 but here we are, I apologize.

#vld #voltron whump #voltron fic #keith whump #pidge whump #lance whump #hunk vld #whump scenario #vld headcanons #vld fandom

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malaks-perch · 4 years

Text

finding what is familiar

julian devorak x reader

the guy who believes magic is logical has convinced himself that he can help you find your familiar....

warnings: none... hurt/comfort. definitely fluff.

“if you're looking for your familiar, then this—" he waved his arms out at the heights of the gargantious architecture that was the colesium. "would be the place to look."

on one of the days julian would sit while you and asra would practice magic during one of your little 'pow wows' as julian referred to it, he asked why you didn't have a pet like asra did.

when asra told him that faust was not a pet, but a familiar. julian outright laughed and shook his head. explaining that there wasn't no way that a person and an animal could have a connection through magic. maybe a very close relationship, but never sharing emotions. especially through magic.

asra brought malak's interesting connection to julian up and the doctor shook his head, claiming that he and malak were different. their relationship was special. he couldn't explain how, but it was.

you told him that finding your familiar takes time. that it in fact was a delicate process that should not be rushed and you might be well into your years before you would find your familiar. but julian was having none of that.

the man who insisted there was logic behind all magic wanted to help you find your famiiiar. you couldn't exactly say no to him. especially after you tried to tell him the ingredients for mazelinka's soup contained some magical properties. so you'd let him lead you here.

"hate to break it to you, julian, but..." you shrugged, as you let your gaze trail around the aging pillars before checking beneath a rock. "it's only a colesium."

"my dearest magician. the most amazing things are found in the most unexpected places!" julian grinned, letting his hands graze the walls of the battle arena.

you grinned, walking towards him, never meeting his eyes before giving him a doe eyed look, "Like.. you, for example?"

he flushed, sputtering out before you playfully rolled your eyes and followed your magic to the middle of the stadium. tugging a stray piece of rope and pulling up the trap door that revealed a dark hole with a ladder leading down into the abyss.

julian's devilish smile made you feel a tad more confident, but a little shaken that out of all places he wanted to search, down here was where he wanted to look with you. "You think my familiar is hiding out down there?"

"only one way to find out." he shrugged, slipping down the ladder for you to follow moments after.

beneath the old colesium, julian was right. a whole market beneath your feet with dim lights fluttering and vendors chattering, calling out to people as they passed by in the shady interior.

"breath-taking, isn't it?" julian asked as you eagerly nodded.

your eyes lit up as julian nudged you forward, looping your arm and guiding you through the black market.

you held julian's arm, eyeing the different things as vendors offered mysterious jars as you passed by. both you and julian would pick up a few ingredients as here and there, things new and things old, paying vendors for little things you wouldn't have to go looking for in far off places until julian had strayed.

he was prodding at a beautiful peacock. smiling as a child would at seeing such a wonderous creature right here in vesuvia. his gaze met yours and as soon as his attention was back on the caged bird it had latched his beak on his finger.

he shrieked and you were at his side in a second, trying to refrain from laughing for his sake, feeding the peacock so it would let go of julian's precious fingers.

he let out a shaky breath, nodding at the creature that swooned for the affectionate grooming you gave it's crest as it ate from your hand. "w-would this be your familiar?"

you shook your head, fingers tracing over julian's as you guided the shaken doctor from the vendor's stand.

julian's eyes leaving the bird's as he brought his finger up to his face to examine the appendage.

"it's supposed to be special." you smiled, staring up at julian as you glanced at some of the caged animals before turning your gaze to the far left to keep your gaze off of them. their distressed calls and scarred bodies was enough to make you feel nauseated.

julian noticed you lean into him and clutching his arm tighter upon the louder the animals got, pulling you into one of the sectioned walls so that you could have a moment to yourself.

it was when your hands came up to block your face from him when he shushed you and moved your fingers so he could see your teary eyes. he cupped your face and brought you close to him.

“i didn’t think bringing you down here would upset you.” he wiped at the tears at the corners of your eyes, loathing what started as a wonderous adventure had turned into you being overwhelmed by the true darkness of the black market’s underbelly. “we can look somewhere else-”

you quickly shook your head and wrapped your arms around his waist to bury your face in his chest. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, “i don’t.. i can’t imagine my familiar being down here.”

a crack of a whip and a cry had you flinching deeper into julian’s chest. anyone who had the audacity to maime an animal, let alone lay their hand on one, should be arrested. especially given how they were trafficked here and most definitely homesick.

“i don’t think they’re down here.” you muttered into his chest as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. “if they were down here, there would’ve been some kind of sign by now.”

“how?” julian asked, raising a brow. “don’t tell me it’s that person to familiar connection thing asra was—"

he shook his head upon seeing you smile, he couldn’t fight his own from coming upon seeing yours. “i’m supposed to know.”

“it doesn’t make sense.” julian shook his head, leaning back into the wall as you leaned into him. “some magic jumbo is going to help us find your pet.”

“it’s not a pet, julian.” you laughed as julian began guiding you through the vendors to again, well past the animals that you had once seen. “i was hoping to show you. i know it’s.. it’s...”

“farfetched?” julian raised a brow, but you playfully scowled at him and stuck your tongue to making him laughing turn.

“down beast!” a whip cracking again and a roar sounding throughout the market.

a ping of magic made you stop abruptly.

your eyes clouded over, pupils dialating as you stood stiff as a board. a light glow began to show on your skin.

julian gawked. he quickly grabbed your face, turning you so that you stared up into his. the white of your sclera shifting into blues and purples, stars seemingly dotted over your eyes.

“y/n!” julian gently tapped your cheek. “please, darling- say something!”

your eyes turned back to their normal color. before julian could even mention getting some serious medical help, you were grabbing his hand and tugging him into a run, pushing through a crowd that surrounded a particular corner of the markets.

eyes met yours from inside a cage. you wandered forward before julian could tug you back. the animal growled, snout curling to reveal jagged teeth.

with no hesitation whatsoever, you reached into the cage, cupping the animal’s large head before it relaxed. a glow outlined you oncemore as you stared so adoringly into golden eyes. your lips curled into a smile when the animal stepped toward you, the glow washing down the animal’s black stripes and down it’s tail.

it leaned it’s head on the bars and you mirrored the huge animal, feeling it’s fur brush against your skin.

“A tiger?!” julian gaped.

you grinned, scratching beneath it’s chin as a low rumbling came from it. the merchant standing slack-jawed a few feet away.

“how much?” you asked, only sparing the man a glance.

the magic radiating off of the two of you was too much, a crowd gathering behind julian who watched in awe.

the merchant was having none of it, magic and all, he was pissed off. “i’m not selling that tiger, he’s my golden goose!”

you leaned into the bars, lip jutted out and the tiger’s sad eyes seemed to catch on. a giant paw reaching between the paw reaching between he bars and landing on your arm. it let out an anguished moan trying to get you closer.

julian crossed his arms at the sight. “i’ll be..” he watched you lean into the cage, stroking your hands over the animal’s head while the tiger hummed sadly, it’s eyes set on you. “that’s their familiar!” julian piped up, pointing at the tiger that suddenly growled at him.

your hand on it’s snout made the tiger calm and watch the man with curious eyes. it’s head cocked as it questioned the lanky’s man purpose here.

“they’ve been searching for this animal their entire life!” julian set a hand on his chest, he cupped your cheek, “my dear, he won’t let you buy him.”

“i heard.” you sighed, leaning into the cage once more.

“then get out of here.” the merchant rudely pointed in the direction from whence you came.

the tiger growled at the man, feverishly glancing btween you and the fat merchant. tears filled your eyes and you shook your head, “i.. i can’t.” your hands were back in the cage, cupping the tiger’s head. “i can’t leave him. i’ll pay for him, i’m willing to pay for him.”

julian’s heart broke for you. he prayed to whoever was watching that his plan would work.

his hand wrapped around yours, “come on-”

“b-but.. love-” you gripped the bars, the tiger growling, letting out distressed cries as julian pulled you into him, “n-no...” you pressed your hands over your mouth as tears streamed down your face at the frantic tiger in front of you.

the man let his whip out and you rushed forward, “stop!”

before julian could grab you, you were grabbing the merchant’s arm. in one fluid motion, you were beneath the man on the ground. the sound of his skin hitting yours crueler than the whip that should’ve cracked instead.

you slid back towards julian who was fuming. before he could open his mouth to make a scene, a full-bodied roar sounded through the underground market. dirt from the roof over your heads. the tiger stalking left and right in it’s cage, murderous eyes set on the merchant when you called out to it.

“i’m okay.” you told it, hugging julian’s side. julian wiping a hand underneath the quickly forming bruise on your cheek. you placed your hand over his, meeting his worried gaze, “i’m okay.”

“they stop you from striking that poor, caged animal! So you hit them instead?!” julian scoffed, doing nothing to hide the venom in his tone. another glance at your face and there was blood leaking from an angry stroke of pink on your face. julian pulled away from you so all could see the wound.

“they were willing to pay for it!”

“yeah, let them pay for it!”

“that tiger clearly does better with them! let them have it!”

people surrounded you all when the man rolled his eyes and let his arms sit atop his bulbous stomach. “i’ll settle for five hundred.”

you opened your mouth to say something and julian angrily gestured to you, “you insult them! you berate them! you abuse them! and you expect them to pay your outragious price?!”

“you’re lucky i even opened a price range!” the man scowled.

the tiger growled from behind him, menacing gold eyes cut at him. it huffed, glaring down at the man, paw stretched with claws extended and grazing the few hairs on the man’s head.

“three hundred.”

julian raised a brow and crossed his arms, “a beggar wouldn’t even bat his eye toward this stand.”

“two hundred! i will go no lower than that.”

julian raised his arms to release the most ravenous wrath that any one eyed, pirate doctor could when you hurriedly yanked him toward you and set a hand over his mouth. “that’s good enough for me!”

the man begrudgingly took your money and as the crowd was caught up in the victory, no one took notice of you fiddling with the lock holding the tiger until a series of chuffs sounded through the cheers.

“a-ahh, my love? maybe that’s not a good idea-” people were yelling and screaming at the sight of the latch being unlocking. you grinned, standing back when the door came flying off. nearly missing you as it crashed into a bunch of caged animals. birds began chaotically slamming into each other, wings clipping heads while animals ranging from weasels to boars

julian grabbed you in all the chaos and pointed to your familiar that was charging straight towards the fat merchant who stared it head on, screaming as he stood perfectly still.

“stop!” you magic surged through the underground market making people stop to grab their bearings, all the animals finally clearing out when eyes fell on the tiger that was breaths away from the man standing perfectly still.

your familiar turned meeting your eyes, it’s face softened upon seeing you, silently asking if this one man was fair game. you shook your head and patted your thighs.

“come on.”

it growled at the man who fell onto his back, scrambling as if someone were after him.

your familiar was at your feet, letting out chuffs as it rubbed his head over your legs. your fingers buried in it’s soft fur as you leaned down to pull it into you.

julian gently pulled at your arm at the many eyes staring at you both. “we should really go now.”

all three of you set a brisk pace until you found yourselves in a forest. your familiar knocking you down and laying it’s body over yours with a hum, chuffing and rubbing it’s striped head over your chest.

julian shook his head, running a hand through his hair. he should’ve expected a magician of your status to have such a magnificent companion at your side.

you peeked up over the head of the tiger that laid on you, completely content to have you at it’s side. a smile directed at julian who found himself melting all over again. “thank you, julian.”

he smiled, sitting beside you with a smile of his own. “anything for you.”

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mushroommushy · 4 years

Text

Tw: Gore

This will be a twist on the episode from season 4 of Octonauts, "Tiger Shark". What might've happened had things gone differently.

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Tweak made a small sigh as she finally managed to fasten the 'Sandy Cam' as she had nicknamed it to the hard shell of her sea-dwelling friend. "There we go! The cam is on Sandy!" She said, wiping her forehead to push the strands of long hair that had fallen into her face. Grabbing a fresh carrot from the fin of the vegimal beside her, she took a quick bite, the familiar crunch of the vegetable erupting in her mouth. From the corner of her vision, she caught Barrot hiding behind a cart. A slight chuckle escaped her mouth. 'Poor thing still thinks I'm gonna eat him..'

Turning her attention back to the turtle in front of her, she gave a tug to the harness holding the camera in place. "All secure, Sandy!" She confirmed with another bite of her snack. "Dashi, open the octohatch for her!" She requested, casting a sideways glance at the fellow crewmate. The dog gave her a smile. "Already on it, Tweak!" A pull on the red labeled lever and a bit of bubbles rose from the bottom of the launch bay and her friend sunk under the water. "Bye Sandy!" She called, waving with her green-furred paw.

The large turtle gave a little wave of a flipper before gliding through the hatch to exit the mechanical ship. As she entered the water it gave her a little shiver of happiness to be back out in the open water before heading off in the direction of the reef, her flippers propelling her forward hastily.

Back inside the octonaut, Dashi pushed on a button and the screen flickered to life, showing a live feed of Sandy's surroundings. "We should get Shellington down here to look at this." Dashi spoke softly. The rabbit beside her shifted the pink ribbon tied around her head. "I have a better idea."

Soon, the three of them were settled down in the game pod, snuggled into the comfy bean bags and sipping cool smoothies as the cam showed the colorful reef surrounding Sandy. Fish of millions of colors were blurs as the turtle sped ahead, heading through tunnels and under ledges of coral. A smile spread across Tweak's face. "Whoever says Turtles are slow has never seen Sandy swim." Shellington was listing off the species of fish swimming past the cam as if it was counting the alphabet. No matter how long she could practice, she doubted she could ever do that. Even when she was raised in the Everglades with her father she had struggled to remember names of the species of creatures in her home area.

A pod of bottlenose dolphins darted past, fearful looks in their eyes and ushering the young ones in front of them with their snouts. In a panic one of them swam over Sandy, his tail smacking the cam in a circle before it stopped facing behind Sandy. A sharp gasp escaped Shellington's mouth, leaning forward. The shape of the large shark was recognizable even to tweak. "A tiger shark!" He cried out. "Sandy move!" Even before he said it, the turtle was moving. The reef became even more hazy as she moved forward at high speeds. "Did she escape?" Tweak asked nervously, not realizing she had stood up, her ears twitching anxiously.

Dashi rotated the joystick on the remote controlling the Sandy Cam. "No." The shark opened its mouth, the teeth glinting as the water refracted light. The teeth closed down and the camera flickered out to black. Tweak's feet moved on her own, throwing her carrot down and sprinting to the hatch and jumping through, soaring through the tubes and landing neatly on her feet on the familiar steel floor of her workshop. Her eyes scanned the gups before they landed on Gup-B. 'It's the fastest.' The thought flashed through her mind like an arrow before she hopped into it. Her dog friend jumped out of the hatch as the glass covering closed over her. "Dashi, open the octohatch." Her voice was cold and worry filled as she sunk down under the water.

The hatch opened as she sped through it, racing to the reef. She barely acknowledged the Gup-A in the distance, holding a returning Captain, Medic and Lieutenant of the Octonauts.

The Polar Bear gave a happy sigh. "We've officially explored the entire reef. I can't wait to go home and rest up for awhile." The two beside him made noises of agreement before snapping to attention as an orange blur raced past. Peso blinked a couple times before pressing his feathered face against the glass. "Was that..Tweak?" Kwazii had a look of pure confusion written across his face. "What's she doing in the Gup-B." Just as he said that, the radio made a static sound before Dashi's voice came through.

"Captain, the camera we put on Sandy showed a Tiger Shark chasing her. Tweak is-." The Captain cut her off. "We know, and we're right behind her." He maneuvered the Gup around and followed the stream of bubbles left behind by Tweak's driving.

Tweak slowed down where the camera last showed Sandy to be. By now, after not seeing her friend nearby and safe she was pushing down the tears threatening to well up in her eyes. "Sandy!" She called out. "Where are you?!" You could hear the desperation and fear in her voice. The Gup-A pulled up beside her. "Any sign of her Tweak?" The Bear asked, concern written across his face. The green rabbit shook her head, her ears moving constantly to pick up even the slightest sound of her friend. "N-No." She mentally scolded herself for stuttering before a rubbery band of gray slapped into her helmet. She pulled it down into her hands and examined it.

"This was the harness that held the camera on Sandy's shell.." She mumbled bleakly, her voice cracking. Kwazii's voice cut in. "It's a'ight matey, we'll find her. Promise." But even with his reassurance, it didn't help to ease her nerves. She got back into the shark-like gup. Even seeing a shape such as a shark sent a wave of determination and rage through her and she disappeared into the depths. The three left behind looked at eachother before looking at the tracker. An icon of the shark gup showed. Kwazii tuned into the radio. "See anything matey?"

Tweak's voice crackled through. "Not ye- Ah!" She swerved down as a striped shark came at her head on. "Now I do!" She yelped, speeding through the reef, the shark behind her snapping it's teeth at the gup.

Barnacles let out a growl and contacted the octopod. "Shellington! What can you tell us about Tiger Sharks?" The otter moved his hand to his chin, his eyes casted downward. "They are known as the waste baskets as the sea. They will eat anything they can fit in their mouths. They are fast and strong, making them amazing hunters, Captain." Tweak let out a noise of frustration, pressing on the wheel hard and wishing she had a carrot to chew on. She was biting her lip so hard she could taste blood. But she wasn't focused on that. She was focused on evading this shark and finding Sandy. She pressed a button and ducked behind a clearing in the coral. Dark stripes appeared on the orange metal shark, "Glad I added this Tiger Shark camouflage.." She whispered.

She lowered her head so her green head was less visible to the shark, praying she was safe. The shark swam around into the clearing and looked at her, as if debating wether to eat her first or tear her to shreds. Tweak took a deep breath, before yelling in surprise as the shark butted the gup, accidentally making her slam herself into the control panel and hit the turbo button. She yelped, the metal machine accelerating at insane speeds.

Tweak just barely lifted it up high enough to avoid the coral and crashing. Her eyes were wide, staring at the controls. She was too focused on that to notice the giant rocky reef she was heading towards.

Peso, from the Gup-A gasped and radio contacted his mechanic friend. "Tweak! Watch out! Reef ahead!"

Tweak looked up just in time and swerved around, ducking into a cave in one of the towering pillars of rock. She wasn't able to pull the gup back in time to stop it from smashing into the dead end and denting the front of the gup and shattering the glass covering. Tweak blew bubbles from her mouth, putting on her helmet and hiding behind the gup. She pressed the radio on her collar. "T-Tweak to octopod. I-..I need backup." She said desperately. She received no response. "Crap..it's broken.." She whispered.

But she went deadly still as she heard fins swimming down the tunnel, her ears lowering as she curled herself into a ball. The shark nudged the gup aside, staring hungrily at the rabbit.

Meanwhile, in the Gup-A Captain Barnacles was searching all over the reef, panicking at this point for her safety. "Tweak? Where are you?" Peso gulped nervously. "Flappity Flippers..she could be anywhere in this huge place.." Kwazii's tail lashed in anger. "Aye matey, we need to find her fast before that shark turns her into a snack!"

The Captain nodded. He wasn't showing it much on the outside, but he was worried sick. He cared for each of the crew like they were his Cubs. He didn't treat them as if they were young, but he would damn well throw himself in danger to keep any one of them safe. "Her radio isn't working. The gup tracker isn't either. We'll have to find her ourselves. Let's just hope we find her first." He huffed, eyes narrowed.

Back inside the cave, Tweak was backing herself up slowly. "Nice..shark.." She murmured. She was forcing herself not to shake, worried it might trigger the shark to attack her with brute force and sharp teeth. The shark swam forward, going around her several times before sniffing her cut arm. Tweak stiffened up completely, praying. 'Oh me, oh my..' The shark maneuvered around her again before sinking its teeth into her right arm. The rabbit cried out in pain, sucking air through her teeth. Blood rose out, swirling in the water. She raised her free hand, punching the shark in the nose to get it off before falling to the floor once it released. Soft cries of pain escaped her, holding her arm to her chest.

The shark went in for more, now attacking her leg and ripping fur off her skin and shredding the flesh. Tweak let out a screech of pain, trying to kick the animal away.

Sandy, who was surfing around the reef now, managed to hear her friend's screams and froze, going still in the water before propelling forward as fast as she could. "TWEAK?" She called out in anguish. She tried to follow the sounds of her rabbit friend, swimming around in a hurry.

By now, Tweak was screaming, the shark now biting into her stomach and thrashing her around like a rag doll. She could taste the blood in her mouth as it dribbled out, standing her fur red and clouds of blood rising into the water. Her blood. She was starting to go faint from bloodloss, the edges of her vision fading to black. 'Sorry everyone..don't think I'm gonna make it out of this one..' She thought solemnly.

Just then, a hard shell crashed into the shark, causing the now torn up octonaut to slam into the wall out of the momentum. At least she was free from the jaws of the shark. Bad news. Water was now leaking into her helmet from a crack in the glass. She wouldn't be able to breath for long.

Thankfully, a familiar voice snapped her to attention. "Tweak!? Tweak get up! Are you alive?" The hazy shape of a turtle appeared in her vision. "O-Oh no..your helmet..you're wounded badly..I-I need to get you to the surface. She nudged the limp rabbit onto her shell, before speeding out of the cave and making a race for the surface.

Tweak put her helmet down as they got there, all the water flooding out. Blood was still dripping from her mouth and forehead. "I-It h..urts.." She had to stop in the middle of her sentence to cough, blood leaving her mouth even more when she did.

Sandy let out a noise of distress. "Let me try to see if any of your crew is nearby from up here." She ducked her head into the water, looking down for any sign of them. She sighed in relief as she spotted the familiar Gup-A. "CAPTAIN BARNACLES." She yelled as loud as she could. "Up here!"

Captain Barnacles was slightly startled, but did go up. "Sandy? Are you-..." He had reached the surface now, seeing the mangled body of Tweak. Her usual fluffy green fur now matted down and stained with her own blood. Kwazii stared at her for a moment. "I- I'm gonna.." he turned around and threw up, tears running down his face. "Oh my lord.." Peso whispered. "I-I-..Is she alive..?"

Sandy looked at him anxiously. "Barely. We need to get her to the octopod. Her helmets broken. The Captain nodded. "Get her in here, Sandy." He put on his own helmet and jumped out of the gup, swimming over to the turtle and carefully lifting the mechanic from her shell. "Alright, Tweak..your safe now.." He went back under for a few moments and came back inside the octopod. "We have a lot of work to do to keep her alive.." He mumbled.

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Alright, that's it everyone! I hope you enjoyed!

#writing #octonauts

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pink-peony-princess · 4 years

Text

I'll Always Protect the People I Love

I really couldn't tell you how it happened, one minute I was hanging up washing on the line and the next I was on the ground in a load of pain. It had been one of those days, you know the ones where everything goes wrong? First I woke up late and missed an important virtual meeting,then I somehow managed to knock over a massive glass of water,the contents going absolutely everywhere. All over my bedside table, my phone (luckily it was waterproof) and several important pieces of paper which I'd been reading for the very meeting I had missed.

Maybe this was the universe's way of telling me I shouldn't have even bothered with today? Maybe I'd have been better if I had stayed in bed. One thing was for sure, I'd be in less pain right now.The only good thing was that my husband who usually worked as a doctor in the local hospital's E.D had taken an annual leave day to get the filing done which he'd gotten behind on.

"Crap," I hissed as I lifted my arm to inspect the massive scrape that had resulted from the fall.

Everything hurt, my arm, my legs which I could see from the droplets of blood falling onto the concrete had also copped a nasty whack, even my side hurt. I could feel myself getting nauseous at the sight of the blood, I'd never been any good at anything to do with medical stuff, it just made me want to vomit. What Shawn got from it, I wasn't sure, but he was passinate about medicine and was always so good. Not only at solving the actual issue at hand, but at making connections with his patients,at gaining their trust.

I tried to stay calm, to take a few deep breaths, but I could feel my composure crumbling as all the day's events caught up to me.

"Shawn!" I called out,voice shaking with the effort of trying to hold back tears. "Shawn," I shouted a little louder when there was no response. Finally I was met with the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.

"April, what's the matter, I was in the middle of a -" he stopped dead in the middle of the yard when he saw me.

"What happened?" he asked, recovering his composure quickly and rushing over to me.

"I tripped," I sniffled, as he bent down,noticing the blood on my hands and knees, and the way I was holding my aching side.

"I can see that baby," he spoke softly, lifting the hem of my dress up just enough to see how far up the wound was.

"This looks nasty and sore," he commented, pouting,causing me to whimper. That was the last thing I wanted to hear, especially from him,someone who spent his days seeing gross wounds and abbrassions.

"It hurts," I cried reaching for him out of habit,only to have my hands sting in protest. I couldn't help the tears that came steadily now, rolling down my face and clouding my vision.

"Oh, honey, please don't cry," he shushed me, reaching up to wipe them away. "It's okay, I'll fix you up, I promise,"

"I'm sorry for being a cry-baby," I muttered scrubbing at my tears with the back of my hand.

"You're not a cry-baby Honey,you've just had a tough day is all," he replied,pressing a kiss to my forehead. I sat there for a minute forgetting the pain,just resting my head against his chest, letting him hold me. He was the one person in the world, who could always make things better.

"Alright Princess, do you think you can stand up?" he asked,taking hold of my upper arms, supporting most of my weight. I stood slowly,my entire body felt as if it was simultaneously being set on fire and hit by a truck.

We made our way inside. Slowly. Incredibly slowly, but Shawn was patient as I hobbled along beside him.

"Here, sit down here," he told me, helping me onto one of the dining room chairs.

"But what about the blood?" I pointed to the blood which was still flowing slowly from several of the wounds.

"It's okay, the chairs can be cleaned," he replied clearly unphased."I'm going to get the first aid kit, stay there," he told me.

"Not like I can go anywhere," I retorted making him laughed as he ran off in the direction of the bathroom.

He came running back less than a minute later, "I'm okay Shawn," I laughed,going to lean back in the chair, but the contact caused the grazes on my back to sting furiously. "Ah," I hissed, leaning forward again.

"Yeah, you look fine," Shawn sassed back, placing the large box of medical supplies on the ground and opening it. It was overwhelming just looking at all the different things. I had no idea how Shawn knew what he was doing, but he obviously did, because he pulled about 5 different things out, before looking up at me.

"Alright sweets,I'm going to wipe off your hands and knees first,it might sting a bit, just tell me if it gets too much and I'll stop okay?" he told, looking up at me as he pulled the wrapper off an antiseptic wipe and gently wiped it across my left knee.

"Ahh," I hissed, fresh tears coming to my eyes,my hand flying to his, stopping him from what he was doing.

"I know it hurts baby," he moved his other hand up to rest on my thigh comfortingly. "But if we don't get this all cleaned up then you risk getting an infection,who knows what sort of stuff has been on that ground, especially with Tarzan out there now,"

At the sound of his name Tarzan came running, tentatively putting one paw up on my lap.

"Aw, Tarzan,good boy, you come to look after Mummy hey, you know she's sad," he cooed,wiping my knee again. It hurt as much as the last time, but I tried to stay still and let Shawn do what he needed to.

"And I'm done," Shawn smiled five minutes later, stepping back from your hands as he gave them one last wipe.

I sighed, feeling relieved, but then I remembered he still had to deal with my side and back, and I knew that would be worse that both my hands and my knees. I'd really done a number on myself there,having landed with most of my weight in that one area.

"I think we're probably better off going to the bathroom for your side, from what I saw outside I'll need to give it a proper rinse out before I do anything with it," he spoke,causing me to groan.

"I know honey, but I promise once I've dealt with it you're all done then how about we have snuggles on the couch and other a take out?" We didn't often get to spend a truly lazy night together with both of our jobs being as crazy as they were.

Really?" I asked, smiling properly for the first time all day.

"Really," he smiled back "Work can wait till tomorrow, my poor invalid baby is more important," he pouted, causing me to laugh, as he helped me to the bathroom.

"That's my favourite sound you know," he told me as he helped me undress and get situated in the tub so he could use the detachable head to wash out the wound.

I smiled, feeling suddenly shy, even after being married for a year, and together for 4 he still had that effect on me.

He spent a few more minutes getting everything set up, towels,bandages, antiseptic wash, tweezers, before he finally turned the water on low, being careful not to get any water on the wounds he'd just dressed.

"Can you turn around for me April?" he asked, helping me to maneuver my body the way he needed it."I'm going to start washing it out now baby, there's a fair bit of dirt and crap caked in there so I'll need to give it a good rinse out. Do you wanna hold my hand?" he offered, extending the hand he wasn't using which I took immediately. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded squeezing my eyes shut in anticipation.

As soon as the water hit it, my whole side felt like it was on fire, the tears that I had managed to hold at bay until now, flowing freely. "I know Princess," he soothed, "One more minute okay," I nodded, opening my eyes, watching as he skillfully flushed the wound. "Can you arch your back for me a bit?" he asked stopping the water momentarily. I did what he asked, leaning over, seeing for the first time just how much blood was coming from me. The bathtub had streams of red water that just seemed to keep coming.

"Shawn," I squeeked, the blood.

"It's okay, Honey,I promise you it looks way worse than it actually is," he tried to console me continuing to work on my wound. I sat there, like I had outside trying not to focus on it, but I could feel the familiar twist of my stomach as he nausea set in,waves of dizziness washing over me like the water.

"Shawn, I-Im going to be sick," I gasped, holding my bandaged hand over my mouth. He was quick to act, switching off the water immediately, and reaching for the trash can that sat next to the toilet, holding it under my chin.

"Deep breaths, April," he spoke softly,pushing some of the hair that had fallen into my eyes out the way.

"You must think I'm such a whimp," I groaned, head still over the bin as I tried and failed to take steady breaths.

"Not at all," he promised, "You're just not good with blood, lots of people are like that, hey, at least you haven't fainted," he laughed trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"I feel like I'm going to," I whispered.

"It's okay, just breathe, that's it, nice long breathes," he coached still holding the bin patiently.

Finally after five minutes of sitting like that, the feeling started to lessen and I was able to sit up again. I must have looked like a complete mess, because the look of pity on Shawn's face was ridiculous.

"Feeling better?" he asked as he placed the bin down beside him and took my hand.

I nodded still not entirely trusting myself.

"Ready to get out and I'll fix the rest up out on the couch?" he asked offering me his hand again.

I nodded again,allowing him help me out of the bath and wrap a towel around my body.

We made our way back to the loving room slowly where he deposited me onto the couch, before running back to get the things he needed from the bathroom.

"How bad is it?" I asked, as he sat down beside me.

"I've seen better I've seen worse, it's not as bad as it probably feels though," he added in sympathy.

"What do you need to do?" I asked, turning to look at him. He frowned, obviously weighing up whether to tell me or of it was better to keep me in the dark.

"I need to get this gravel outta the wound before I dress it," he answered carefully. "Why don't you turn the T.V. on while I work?" he suggested quickly when he saw my face fall. He grabbed the remote off the table and handed it to me.

"What do you want to watch?" I asked when the screen came on.

"Whatever you wanna watch babe, I'll be focussed on this."

I nodded,turning on Once Upon A Time, immediately being pulled into the fantasy. The story helping to distract me. He kept a hand on my good shoulder the whole time he worked, occasionally squeezing it when I let out a whimper at a particularly sore spot.

"All done," he announced as he stuck the adhesive strip down half an hour later.

"Really?" I asked, turning to see he was indeed done, already in the process of picking up all the trash, going to dispose of it safely in the bin.

When he came back he had a glass of water, a bottle of Tylenol and an ice-pack in his hands.

"Here babe, take these,it should help with some of the pain," he spoke, coming around the couch to hand them to me, before sitting down next to me.

"What's the ice-pack for?"

"For your back, it'll help to stop the bruising," he lifted me onto his lap confusing me slightly.

"Won't you be cold?" I questioned as he placed the ice-pack between my back and his chest, pulling me back

"I could never be cold with you around baby," he murmured kissing my head, leaning back into the sofa.

"Thank you for looking after me," I spoke after a few minutes of comfortable quiet in which we were both focussed on the television.

"Of course baby," he replied, running a hand gently through my scalp. "I'll always protect the people I love."

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #doctor!shawn #mendes triplets #werewolf!shawn #peter mendes #raul mendes #shawnblr

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

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Bewitching Hour

Summary: October has been a blissfully busy month. With Halloween around the corner, Arthur and Y/N have some planning to do.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,665

A/N: Special thanks to @hhandley80 for this request! You've been so supportive and sweet. I truly appreciate you and hope you enjoy it!

On a side note, my oneshots will be more sporadic. I'm still writing but life has been life. Also, I've finished the first draft of another multi-chapter featuring Arthur and Y/N. It's going to take time to rewrite the subsequent drafts and edit, edit, edit. The chapters will go up once the story is ready. Thanks for your patience and support! 🙂 I heart you all!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask!

Arthur's suggestion that they make plans to celebrate Halloween should not have been a surprise. He loved starting traditions with Y/N, and she prized adopting them with him. "It's been awhile," he'd said as they'd walked arm-in-arm to the laundromat. "I think it'd be nice."

Holidays had been a source of merriment most of her life. The beauty of red and green decorations at Christmas. Turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. An egg hunt and chocolate rabbit at Easter. The togetherness of family during them all.

Halloween, though, wasn't a favorite.

As a child, she'd had fun trick-or-treating, riding her bike from house to far-flung house. And she hadn't minded escorting her little sister as a teenager. Y/N's homemade witch costume had been passed down. She could still recall the sleekness of the ribbon between her fingers as she'd secured the pointed hat under Mabel's chin.

But the magic had fallen away. When married to Jeff, she'd had to attend his boss's annual party. After receiving an apologetic shrug and kiss, she'd be relegated to hanging out with the other wives. They'd included her in their recipe swaps, in their exchanges of mild gossip. Her natural friendliness made chit-chat easy, far easier than having a good time. Those evenings had been spent nursing a glass of wine and willing the clock to go faster.

During the period she'd cared for her father, she'd tried to hand out candy. She liked being a good neighbor and imparting kindness in the form of bite-sized sweets. As his health had declined, the porch light had gone dark. Random rings of the doorbell would result in shouting and swearing. Repeated attempts to explain the door's lock wasn't broken. Festivity would transform into drudgery. It hadn't been worth the trouble. Instead, she'd watched terrible TV specials while her thoughts wandered to a future far from Boonville. A future she'd doubted would ever be.

"I don't know if it's your thing," Arthur had continued, bringing her back to the present. "But you might enjoy it with me." The response he longed for was evident in the worrying of his pocket, outlines of his knuckles visible through the tan cloth.

Everything they'd experienced together had soothed the sting of those wasted years. The hesitancy lurking in her was silly. Unwelcome. Less than either of them deserved. She'd met his keen eyes and half-smile. The sudden mental image of him dressed as a cowboy or pirate, eyepatch and all, prompted a laugh. Convinced her as she dug out her dry-cleaning stub. "It isn't my thing," she'd said. "But you are."

Relief had relaxed his wrinkles, save for his crows feet, which had deepened as he'd returned her happy expression. A slender arm wrapped around her waist, drew her against his solid frame. Once the clerk disappeared through the swinging doors to retrieve their clothes, Arthur grasped her chin and kissed her. The tender explorations were soon sloppy, and she'd giggled, his enthusiasm becoming her own. Their noses had met, his lashes resting on his wide cheekbones. "I think you're the sweetest treat, Mrs. Fleck."

Currently, Donahue's Department Store, Gotham's number one retail emporium (if the ads were to be believed), was bustling with last-minute shoppers. Weary mothers escorted their babbling children through the aisles. Clerks swapped out displays for the changing blue light specials. Lines went for yards. Patricia and Y/N sought refuge at a corner table in the café on the top floor. The warm glow from the pendant lamps provided a relaxed ambience, one that matched the hot cider and pumpkin spice cake they were savoring.

"I've got my grandson on Sunday," Patricia said between bites. "My daughter's going to a party with a medical records tech from Gotham General. Met him when she missed the bus. They split a cab and hit it off." Chuckling, she lifted her mug. "Speaking of, how's married life been so far?"

Memories of the past week quickened Y/N's heart, until she thought it might stop. How Arthur had gripped her replacement Social Security card, just to read her new name. The way he'd grab her for a twirl whenever they were in the kitchen. The reverence in his gaze when they'd lay together after sex, a look that both thrilled and made her blush. "The bills for his medication and appointments will no longer make us cringe," she deadpanned. She lowered her fork. "When we met, I was kind of blindsided - I'm not the type to fall in love quickly." The corners of her lips tugged up. "Being married to Arthur feels like a habit. A habit I should have learned twenty years ago."

"I'm glad you found each other." Patricia reached across the light brown table and covered Y/N's hand, gave it a squeeze. Then she wiped frosting from her mouth and nodded in the direction of the escalator. "Now let's find a costume that'll drive him nuts."

Beyond the colorful cosmetics and pungent perfume counters, they sorted through racks of vinyl smocks and plastic masks. Pop culture icons and princesses. Vampires and spooks. Knockoffs of classic movie monsters. Most were poorly made and decidedly uninteresting. Y/N pawed through accessories in a nearby basket, a cigar here, a patched hat there. "How about a hobo? I could steal Arthur's tie."

"This was his idea. Give him something a little exciting." After a roll of Y/N's eyes, Patricia held out a plastic display bag. "Found it."

The white font on its blue label declared she should "Create a unique look!" A woman in a leopard-print leotard and bow-tie wore black cat ears and a tail, the only two items included in the set. Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I don't think so, Patricia." She rummaged through another bin and examined a hockey mask. "I don't show a lot of skin."

"You show Arthur." Patricia ignored Y/N's glare, continuing to shove it at her. "Every man loves a woman dressed as a cat. Our next lunch is on me if I'm wrong."

Patricia could be relentless, but Y/N had to admit she was usually right. She arched a brow as she eyed the costume. Maybe she could find a solid body suit instead of animal print. The kit was only $2.98. And her friend had made it a challenge. "You're on. But I'm not wearing a bow-tie." She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her mouth. "Your turn. Would Robert like you as a French maid or a go-go dancer?"

~~~~~

It was a busy season for performers. Arthur remembered HaHa's talent agency being booked solid for October by the end of August. Myriad functions at nursing homes, parties, and children's organizations took place throughout the city. Amusement Mile had a series of special events, allowing Arthur to work extra hours before the slowness of winter dragged in. Once the holiday was over, he'd buy make-up and props on clearance.

He'd always assumed he would like Halloween - if he'd had the chance to celebrate it properly. It was about connection, something he'd never managed. The customs gave him a pretense, a template to meet people, rather than leaving him wondering how to go about it. Provided a hiding place for his seeming inability to act normal.

Recollections of the day were few but vivid. When he'd been around eight, there'd been a party at school. The teacher had made brownies and given the students a half-hour respite from lessons. (A welcome relief, since he wasn't very good at most of them.) But he hadn't had a costume. Hadn't known how to reply when the other kids asked where it was. Not wanting to be left out, he'd pocketed a watercolor pallet and sneaked to the bathroom.

The teacher (he wished he could remember her name) had walked in as he'd smeared green and blue on his face, a pathetic attempt at a turtle. Fear of punishment had caused his laughter. But her kindness as she knelt, wiped away tears and pigment with a scratchy, brown paper towel, had calmed him. "Wait here," she'd instructed. It had taken all his courage not to run home.

After some minutes, she'd returned, an old white sheet in one hand, black marker and pair of scissors in the other. "The nurse won't miss this." She'd traced eyeholes, helped him cut them out. She'd asked questions. About his mother and what it was like at home. Questions he was at a loss for how to answer. Finally, she'd draped the cloth over his head. "There," she'd declared. "Gotham Elementary has its own ghost."

Even as he'd gotten taller and the sheet no longer went beyond his knees, that costume had remained his go-to. He'd venture out to the rest of his building, knocking on paint-chipped doors and pushing broken buzzers. Having learned to stay away from doors that yelling or funny smells emanated from, he hadn't gotten a lot of candy. What he had collected he'd shared with Penny. The wax lips became a free toy. He wasn't sure his memory of startling his mother and being tickled until he couldn't breathe was real or imagined.

At twelve, he was told he was too old to go trick-or-treating. He'd starting scrounging for change to buy hard candies at Helm's Pharmacy. They weren't particularly appetizing, but they'd been what he could afford. Only a few kids rang, a number that dwindled further every year. Most neighbors kept their distance, likely aware he was troubled. Cinnamon discs and butterscotch drops had loitered around the apartment for months. He'd sucked on them in an attempt to cut down on his smoking, just to save money. It hadn't worked.

Y/N hadn't spoken about the holiday, not the way she had other special occasions. At first, he'd thought it had slipped her mind. Work, planning their honeymoon, completing the red tape required to meld all aspects of their lives had taken up much of their time. But, given her reluctance to talk in detail about her past heartache, he'd come to assume her Halloweens had been unpleasant. He was certain he could change that.

Sitting on the dingy, dark green plastic seat of the train car, he giggled to himself, chest puffing up as he straightened. They'd been man and wife for eight whole days. Movies and songs said love was supposed to be somewhere between serendipitous and fated. A happy accident that was meant to be. Lying awake at night, he would find himself wondering where they were on that scale. If the emotions swirling through him - the excitement of belonging, the fear of fucking up - were what every newlywed felt. Then Y/N would snuggle closer in her sleep, murmur nonsense into his skin, and for a few minutes he'd be at peace.

Years had been spent trying to figure out who he was. Trying to find an identity, his role within the world. While he was still searching, it had been far easier to become accustomed to the role of "husband" than he'd dreamed.

Teaching his wife about events across the city had been a delight. Gotham Village's Annual Costume Extravaganza was a parade that went all the way to Gotham Square. He'd participated a couple of times, never formally registering but slipping into the clown section. It had been exhilarating. Had allowed him to pretend, for a little while, that he was being seen. That the crowds lining the sidewalks were cheering for him. Signs for extravagant balls were plastered on billboards and lampposts throughout the streets; he'd have gladly attended and shown her off. A haunted house was being held in a building in his old neighborhood, a fundraiser for the orphanage. He hadn't brought that up.

In the end, once he'd explained trick-or-treaters went from apartment to apartment, they'd decided on a cozy evening at home. The details had been left to her. Whatever she'd plan, he'd love it. He wondered what she'd disguise herself as. Would she be a sexy devil or nurse, like he'd seen on a sit-com? The notion sparked a fire in his cheeks.

Given how busy he'd be, he'd stay dressed as plain, old Carnival. Part of him regretted accepting two gigs, especially on a Sunday. He would have preferred her company. But he wanted to put the money towards the wedding band he'd put on layaway. (Even though they had one account, he wasn't going to let her chip in for it.) He should already be wearing it for all of Gotham to see.

The lurch of the subway prompted him to rise and grasp the pole grip. His stance widened as it came to a halt, knees bending with the instinct of a man who'd ridden public transportation since he was a boy. As soon as the graffiti-covered doors parted, he stepped out onto the platform and ascended the stairs, eager to share his new insurance information with Dr. Ludlow.

~~~~~

Scratchy violins and the hum of a theremin. Shrill shrieks and cracks of thunder. A cackle resounded, then a pipe organ, playing a melody in a minor key.

There was no doubt about it. Halloween spirit had saturated 4A.

NCB's Movie Marathon Mayhem had begun at 10:00 AM. Y/N had had it on since getting out of the shower, hoping to catch a horror classic while she decorated the apartment and prepared Bloody Mary mix. As she hung cotton batting between the television's rabbit ears, creating a long, narrow spider-web, she realized they were only playing cheesy B-movies. Giant insects threatening buildings. Science experiments gone wrong. Alien invasions. Oh well. At least she wouldn't have to pay much attention to get the gist of the plots.

The orange plastic platter, black bats along its edges, had been an impulse buy. She thought its array of sugary skeletons, candy bracelets, and Jolly Jack chocolate bars would be well received. But having seen only one or two kids in the lobby, she had no idea how many children lived in their building. She hoped she'd bought enough.

The cardstock window decorations she'd found were festive and matched Arthur's sweet nature. One portrayed a warted, green witch flying on a broom past a full moon. On the other, a ghost and mouse shared a pillowcase of candy and wished a "Happy Halloween." She held the tape dispenser between her teeth as she stuck them to their white front door.

Just then, the elevator dinged. Glancing to her left, she saw Arthur stroll down the cheerfully lit hallway. Buoyant expression on him, despite his white, blue, and red make-up being streaked from sweat. Striped prop bag on his shoulder and carved pumpkin cradled in his arms. "The store owner was going to throw it out," he explained with a half hug. "But he let me have it as a tip."

Classic, triangular eyes evoked the annual carving contest her parents had taken part of back home. Her father had been well-known in the community, being the town's only doctor. Entering the competition had been expected. They'd never won but enjoyed it all the same. Y/N had picked out the patterns and scooped out the squash's slimy innards. Her mother had baked the seeds. Peals of their laughter echoed in her ears, and a lump formed in her throat.

She swallowed hard against it. Dammit, Y/N. Get it together. This was supposed to be a special night for Arthur and her. She needed to distract herself. One of his curls peeked out from under his bald-cap and green wig. She twirled a strand around her finger. "With that toothy grin, it just might be your twin," she said. He pecked her temple, the kiss sticky from greasepaint. She lit the half-melted candles using his red lighter and put the jack-o-lantern just outside their door.

While he freshened his paint in the bedroom, she slinked into the bathroom to change. Arthur's and her routines were closely aligned; keeping her costume hidden had not been easy. The headband holding the furry cat ears was quite stiff, its teeth a tad sharp on her scalp. Once it was in place, she hid it under her hair. The lint on her form-fitting stretch top and leggings reminded her why she rarely wore all black. She retrieved her brown eyeliner from the nearby shelf and started in on her whiskers.

Arthur's footsteps neared, heavy due to his clown shoes, and Y/N turned to lean back on the sink. His thin lips parted as he scanned her body, forehead furrowed in pleasant surprise. His reaction planted a seed of bliss in her belly, one that bloomed every second they regarded each other. The lunch she'd have to spring for was well worth the pink shells of his ears. Eventually, she held out the fluffy, wired tail and a safety pin. "Would you pin this just below my waistband?"

Fingers grazing hers, he took it and sat on the toilet lid. He cupped her hips and pulled her closer, positioned her until the dampness of his breath hit a bare sliver of her back. "Hold still," he murmured, his voice sending a tingle through her. At his gentle ministrations, the spandex of her leggings felt snugger. "Did you- Did you read my journal?"

A faint click of metal as the pin closed. "No." She colored the tip of her nose, frowned at how lackluster the shade was. "I'd never do that. Even if I'm dying for a preview of your material. Why?"

"No reason." A soft huff, his shy smile clear in his answer. "I have an idea." He handed her a washcloth and hurried out of the room. She was patting her face dry when he returned, a fine tipped brush and pot of black greasepaint in his hand. "This'll look better."

Her brow arched. She'd only had her make-up done once; Patricia had invited her when they'd first met. Such an outing was not her preference, but Y/N had accepted, being new in town and wanting to learn about her colleague. There'd been champagne at the counter, which she'd sipped until she'd spent too much on eyeshadow and apricot scrub. The next morning, she'd put the products and a note on Patricia's desk: "I'll never forgive you. Thanks!"

The heat radiating from Arthur prompted her to close the gap between them. She craned her neck towards him, slid her palms to his yellow vest until she held him just below his ribs. His forefinger curled under her chin, lifted it slightly and angled it to the right. The cool, wet brush met her fevered skin. The dusty smell of the greasepaint blended with a whiff of stale cigarette smoke and traces of his sweat. She licked her lips.

The vibration of his chuckle was felt before heard. "I really like your costume," he said lowly. Two more ticklish caresses of the bristles on the apple of her cheek. "If you're not careful, I might werewolf and go wild."

She stretched closer to him, the fervor in his tone going straight to her center. Though he'd been growing bolder, his cocky side wasn't often revealed. She wanted it, thirsted to see more of the wild horse kicking inside him. Her touch ran over his chest, until she dipped under his black suspenders and pulled. "Are you going to gobble me up?"

Teasing strokes on her nose. "Maybe." Then his thumb whispered along her jaw and guided her face upwards. His kiss was supple, slow, a drag of his mouth as his tongue sought entry. She yielded, the simmer of anticipation bringing her to her toes. He groaned deeply and palmed her thigh, then fondled the curve of her rear-

The ding-dong of the doorbell halted them. He lifted his head and laughed, gaze sparkling. "I got paint on you."

She twisted in his arms and looked in the mirror. The whiskers caught her eye, embellished at the ends with dainty curlicues - his skill never ceased to impress her. Red brightened her lips and streaks of white were on her cheek. "It's all right. They'll just know I've been necking with a clown."

~~~~~

The sound of the bell continued. Over and over and over. More than it ever had in Otisburg. There were mummies, ghosts, a couple of skeletons. A superhero proudly displayed his red cape and blue tights, and a kid in her karate robe went on about her yellow belt. A tiny clown, too young to walk, was brought by her sister. As Arthur made funny faces, the baby cooed and tried to take his red, foam nose. Arthur parted with it gladly.

Only one member of the Wayne family appeared, slicked back hair and pompous pout making the disguise complete. The man accompanying the boy introduced himself as their upstairs neighbor and shook their hands. After one look at Y/N, he nudged Arthur's bicep. "So, she's the one keeping half the building up at night. Good on you, pal." Arthur blinked in confusion as she ushered the guy away, red-faced and muttering about his nerve.

Arthur was overly generous, giving out fistfuls of sweets while taking a few extra seconds to gather his nerves and compliment the costumes he liked best. It felt good to interact with strangers without constantly second guessing himself. Y/N would rub his arm or kiss his shoulder and tell him what a great job he was doing. "Kids are easy," he said, refilling the candy dish. But he reveled in her praises, anyway. And the knowledge that meeting the neighbors was going well.

Clean-up required little effort. The jack-o-lantern sat on their kitchen table, flames flickering as the wicks burned away. The door decor was packed safely for use next year. His plaid blazer was slung over the back of a dining chair and his wig was off. Y/N's decision to leave her whiskers on pleased him - she made a damn sexy cat. He pocketed the last few pieces of candy to snack on during the remainder of the evening.

The Sunday Night Special Presentation she'd picked out, a made-for-TV horror movie, began at 9:00 PM on GBC. Most of its airtime was punctuated by her tipsy snickers and legal wisecracks, which was typical when they watched something stupid. Yet, as the show went on, she grew quieter, barely speaking between sips of her third cocktail. As they sat on the sofa, her posture stiffened. Forearms crossed over her breasts. Her nails dug into her upper arm.

The change started two-thirds of the way into the show, when the plot about a doll running amok twisted into a story about a professional woman trying to assert herself against the demands of her mother. Against the expectations of availability. To fight for the simplicity of having dinner and peace and quiet. It resonated with him, which felt weird. Especially when the film cut to black, the implication being the mother would meet a violent end at the hands of her possessed daughter.

A cheerful jingle came on. Puerto Rico was a direct flight from Gotham Airport, it advertised, a flight that lasted "two hours and fifteen tropical minutes." They should get out while the weather was still good. The juxtaposition of mood broke him out of his ponderings. He flicked off the blaring television with the remote. Then he heard Y/N sniffling.

She set her glass on the coffee table, a slight tremble in her hand. "I need some air," she whispered as she rose, then went out onto the fire escape.

Arthur rubbed his thigh and pressed his lips together. He wasn't used to seeing her cry. Not from sadness. Should he follow her? Give her time? Both had worked previously, depending on the situation. But he wasn't sure what had upset her, what situation they were in now.

Exhaling sharply, he grabbed her glass and dumped the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink. Rinsed their dinner plates and put the slow cooker in the fridge. When he'd finished making decaf coffee ten minutes later, she still hadn't returned. He ambled towards the ajar glass door and stepped out.

Moonlight outlined her shapely figure and reflected off her hair, the silver a contrast to the orange glow of the streetlamps illuminating her face. Her stare seemed fixated on the street below. He followed it to see a group of ghouls and goblins spraying shaving cream on a shop window. A couple, one he'd see occasionally when out for a cigarette, walked down the sidewalk. A woman was half-carrying a drunk man towards a bus stop.

Upon clearing her throat, Y/N spoke. "I may not look like it, but I had a great time with you tonight. The movie just got to me." Relieved, Arthur sidled next to her, wrapped his arm about her back. Her head fell to his shoulder and she smoothed her hand over his stomach. "I don't mean to hide from you. Someday you'll know the details of my earlier life." She scoffed. "When I'm ready to think about them." He entwined their fingers and kissed her hairline, avoiding the wired tips of her cat ears.

Shivering, she took a shaky breath. "There are no skeletons in my closet. Only disappointments." Her voice cracked as she beamed at him, cupped his cheek, and pressed her face to his. "Knowing I'd get to have you would have made those years so much easier."

He held her tightly, massaging between her shoulders. She'd been speaking about herself, but he couldn't help thinking it was about him, too. His years with Penny. His stints in Arkham. The loneliness, the isolation, the endless anger and yearning to be more than a speck of dirt no one cared for. His journal was full of questions about where the hell his one and only was. If he'd known she'd be real, tangible instead of a figment, would existence have hurt less?

Wincing, he tried to push through those thoughts. To focus on her instead of himself. What mattered was that Y/N needed him. Perhaps a joke would cheer her. "I was thinking the other night of how easy it is to smile around you," he said. "You tickle my funny bone." Amusement bubbled in her throat, music to his ears. She released a contented sigh and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

Peaceful stillness ensued as the minutes passed. Though the breeze was chill, goosebumps forming on his pale skin, her affection kept his heart warm. His fingertips rubbed circles into her lower back, and she offered a pleasured hum. Across the way, footsteps pounded. He glanced to see a kid darting up the street, plastic pumpkin pail in tow. The boy's scream was filled with boundless energy: "Happy Halloween, Gotham!"

Snorting, Y/N took Arthur's hand and led him inside. The cheap tail she wore bounced with every exaggerated swivel of her hips. "I've behaved all evening, which your werewolf comment made extraordinarily difficult." She looped her arms around him and flashed a come-hither stare. "May I have a goodie?"

The scrape of her nails on his scalp coiled a knot in his abdomen. "Aren't you supposed to say 'trick-or-treat?'" he asked huskily.

"Your pussycat needs a petting or two." She closed the bedroom door behind them. "Maybe even a mauling."

His brows shot up on a hitched giggle. Then he palmed her hip while she started in on his buttons. Before she got too far, he traced a whisker with the pad of his thumb. Let their foreheads meet and pecked her eyelids. "Only if you give me something good to eat." He pressed into her, his enjoyment relentless, not waiting for her reply before devouring her mouth.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve, @howdylilflower, @sweet-nothings04, @stephieraptorr, @rommies, @fallenstarsabyss, @gruffle1, @octopus-plasma, @tsukiakarinobara, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile, @another-day-in-chuckletown, @hhandley80, @jokerownsmysoul, @mrscarnival

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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cryptidvoidwritings · 3 years

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10. July | hurt/comfort

*nudges part three (3) into the void because ho boi did this one get away from me I have been writing and rewriting it forever and now we're coming in three weeks late with Starbucks but it's finally done because I am not reworking it for another week no I am not*

(PS: Part one (1) is here should you wish to read it)

(PPS: Part two (2) is here should you wish to read it)

“Release, ‘Lonz!”

Alonzo vaulted from Macavity’s back. He tumbled to the other end of the alley, pain screaming up his arms as he pushed back to his feet. His paw pads flaked off the burnt skin. Only after the lightning shot past him did Alonzo’s brain acknowledge Tugger had issued the familiar command. Petrichor covered the sharp scent of Macavity’s fire. Macavity scrambled back just before another bolt struck the ground. It blinded Alonzo briefly.

When he could see again, Macavity was gone.

“‘Lonz!” Quaxo shouted, hurtling through the dissipating shadows at the mouth of the alley. He stumbled to a stop in front of Alonzo, his paws fluttering over the extent of the throbbing burns on Alonzo's arms but careful not to touch them. “Everlasting, I can’t- We need to get back to- you’re bleeding-”

“Macavity’s. Quaxo, I’m fi-”

“You’re not fine! Tugger! Some help?”

“Not sure... I can...”

“What are you talking abo- ?” Quaxo’s head whipped around. “Fuck.”

He skittered to the Maine Coon, sparks bursting anxiously in his coat, looking helpless in the face of Tugger’s fragile state. He was standing, but only just, and he trembled visibly with the effort. A sizable puddle of blood had collected at his feet. His right arm hung limp at his side. Patches of fur were missing all over his body; what remained was matted with dried blood and dirt. His collar was gone- presumably, Macavity had burned it away.

Alonzo took Quaxo by the shoulders, trying to ground him. “Let’s get him inside.”

Quaxo nodded slowly, ears pinned back. “But what if-”

“Not gonna b-break, kit,” Tugger gasped.

Alonzo reached for his left side, which was generally untouched by lesions or burns. Tugger leaned into him- the patch tom wondered if he realized what he was doing- and met Tugger’s pain-glazed eyes. The inner half of each iris shared Munkustrap’s warm blue; the outer half was bright gold, verging on Macavity’s yellow.

Oh. Alonzo thought distantly. Stunning.

Tugger grinned crookedly; Munkustrap’s grin. “Y’okay, p-pretty face?”

The patch tom blinked rapidly, pulling himself away from the recognition of what he’d apparently missed for nearly two years. It went towards explaining why Tugger kept himself at a distance from most cats and why most cats were okay with that. Alonzo forced himself to stop staring, allowing a tiny smile to curl up the corners of his lips.

“You’re worried about me? I’ll be fine. Munkustrap is going to kill you for proving him right, though.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tugger attempted to laugh but wound up coughing harshly. “Y’r prob’ly right. In my d-defense... wasn’t, y’know. Expecting...”

“I know. Stop talking.”

“Can... do,” the Maine Coon sighed. His eyes slid closed. “S’rry ‘bout this.”

His body pitched forward. Alonzo caught his dead weight, biting back a pained hiss. He lowered the larger cat to the ground and settled Tugger’s head in his lap. He held his breath (and was pretty sure Quaxo did as well) until he felt a soft exhale over the back of his paw.

“Breathing.”

Quaxo’s body drooped in relief. “Can we still move him?”

“Better to have help. Is anybody else coming?”

“No. I... I was talking to Cass but I knew something was wrong and I just-”

“See if his humans are in. He says this one is his.”

The tuxedo sprinted down the alley. Alonzo licked gently at a shallow gouge in Tugger’s side while he waited. He was, selfishly, a bit worried that Tugger’s humans were home: They’d take Tugger to the thing that other cats with families called a vet. Alonzo wasn’t sure he could let Tugger out of his sight.

When Quaxo came racing back out, he was carrying a wet cloth, which he dropped into Alonzo’s lap. “Not home,” he said. “I’ll get help.”

Alonzo nodded- he hoped ‘help’ meant Jenny- and Quaxo disappeared in a puff of sparkles. Alonzo laid the waterlogged linen on Tugger’s injuries and watched it stain red.

“Your fur is going to take ages to grow back,” he murmured, forcing a levity he didn’t feel for the sake of keeping his head straight. He wiped tenderly at the Tugger’s side until he was satisfied that the gashes were clean. “We’re all going to make fun of you.”

Tugger remained still and silent. Alonzo didn’t dare touch his burned skin, so he lapped at the superficial scrapes on the Maine Coon’s chin and face, clearing away bits of singed fur.

“You’d better be okay, you great lout,” he sighed into one delicate ear.

“Alonzo!”

The patch tom jerked up. Quaxo and Munkustrap- who looked a bit disoriented- stood at the mouth of the alley. Munkustrap ran forward and fell to his knees in front of Alonzo and Tugger, ears back and pupils dilated in fear.

“Is he-” Munkustrap choked out.

“He’s alive,” Alonzo said urgently. He touched the silver tabby’s paw, pulling his focus away from the blood-stained cloth. “Is Jenny coming?”

“No, we’re going back. I don’t want anyone else leaving the yard. Quaxo, help get him on my back.”

Alonzo bit back an instinctive hiss as they started to maneuver Tugger out of his lap. Everything in him wanted to stay curled over the Maine Coon, to keep him safe from prying eyes, but the burns on his arms were throbbing in time with his heartbeat. It had gotten cold, anyway, and he always functioned a little worse in the cold. He tracked Tugger’s body until his vision went blurry.

“Alonzo?”

Quaxo’s face was in his. The patch tom blinked. His ears flicked in surprise. He hadn’t heard his brother move. Quaxo was silent, even among cats, but he’d never snuck up on Alonzo before.

“Time to go,” the tuxedo said softly.

“Right.”

Quaxo frowned. Alonzo wondered why.

“You’ve gone loopy.”

Oh. Wait. Had he spoken?

“Yes. Are you cold? You’re shaking.”

He was? Alonzo looked down at his legs. He could hardly feel his paws.

“Munk, he needs Jenny. But I don’t think I can come back if I-”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Go?

Quaxo caught Alonzo by the shoulders. The alley unfocused around them and the pavement changed under Alonzo’s feet. For a moment he thought he saw Victoria’s worried face.

Everything went black.

“- st have been in shock.”

Alonzo’s ears twitched. Talking? His surroundings were dim and there was a soft blanket under him. Or maybe several- he couldn’t exactly feel the ground. The blankets meant he was in a den. Jenny’s, by the scent of it. It made sense; it was her voice outside.

“It’s pure luck his paws weren’t infected.”

Alonzo wondered who she was talking about. He stretched his arms up lazily. They moved, but with an awkward weight to them that he wasn’t used to. As he brought them down, they fell heavily to the blankets. They were wrapped in bandages. Alonzo frowned in confusion. Jenny was talking about him?

“But he’ll be okay, right?” asked Victoria’s voice.

“Of course he will, dear. With rest and some good meals, he’ll be up and about in no time. He and Tugger both. Now run along. We’re watching them.”

The bit of rag that acted as the door to Jenny’s den moved aside. Alonzo blinked into the light, trying to sit up. Quaxo’s green eyes alighted on him and he stopped in his tracks.

“Well hello there, sleeping beauty,” Quaxo said softly, blinking slowly. “How are you feeling?”

Alonzo blinked back. “Kinda floaty.”

The tuxedo chuckled as he took a seat, curling his tail over Alonzo’s legs. “Jenny gave you the good stuff.”

Right. That’s why Jenny was outside talking about infections- he’d gotten burned while fighting Macavity.

“How long have I been out?” Alonzo asked, licking his dry lips.

“Not that long, dear,” Jenny said quietly, just beyond Quaxo. “It was nearing sunset when you came back yesterday and it’s only just setting again now. You needed the rest. Quaxo, love, get your brother some water while I make tea.”

Alonzo frowned, trying to remember how he’d come to be back at the junkyard. He hadn’t walked- Quaxo had... teleported them? Munkustrap told them to go, hadn’t he? Even though he was with Tugger? Alonzo sat up in a rush that almost gave him vertigo. Quaxo caught him and pushed him back down. He tried to break his brother’s hold, but his limbs weren’t cooperating.

“Tugger- where-?”

Quaxo turned him to the left. “Right here.”

Alonzo slumped against Quaxo’s chest, drinking in the sight. The Rum Tum Tugger looked more like a pile of gauze than a cat. He’d been laid out between Alonzo and Munkustrap. Munkustrap had carefully tucked his brother’s face into his shoulder and his chin was nestled between Tugger’s ears. He was so still that if Alonzo hadn’t been able to see his sides lift with each breath-

The tea kettle whistled. Alonzo dragged himself out of his thought spiral and watched Jenny pour the boiling water into the teapot.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Here, drink,” Quaxo said, holding a half-full cup of water to Alonzo’s lips.

Alonzo obeyed. As soon as the water touched his lips he became aware of his thirst. It was a fight not to gulp it greedily, knowing it would only make him sick. It helped that Quaxo wouldn’t tip the cup enough to let him take more than a sip.

“You cleaned his wounds well,” Jennyanydots said. Her face pinched with worry as she studied the sleeping cats. “He hasn’t woken yet. We only just got Munkustrap to sleep, the poor love. He wanted to stay awake until you were up.”

Alonzo watched Munkustrap and Tugger breathe, ignoring the throbbing reasserting itself in his arms. At least Tugger didn’t seem to be in pain. Quaxo traded places with Jenny, who appeared with a cup of tea that smelled medicated. His face screwed up in distaste and she chuckled.

“I know, but this will help you sleep.”

“I just woke up.”

“You need real sleep, dear. It’ll help the pain.”

Alonzo sighed heavily but he allowed Jenny to help him drink the tea. Whatever she’d put in it hit fast; barely a few minutes later he was yawning. He started to roll over, but the stark white dressings against Tugger’s black fur stopped him. He stared at it for a long minute.

“‘S it okay if I... cuddle?”

Jenny tilted her head quizzically. Quaxo snickered somewhere behind them. Alonzo opened his mouth several times but whatever he’d meant to ask had fled as the medicine muddled his brain. He resorted to motioning vaguely at Tugger.

Jenny bit her bottom lip in amusement but nodded. “Just mind the bandages.”

“Let me help you,” Quaxo said quietly.

Alonzo allowed it, mostly because the medicine was keeping him from moving with his usual precision. Quaxo got him rolled over and he snuggled in beside Tugger’s body. The Maine Coon was warm in spite of everything. Alonzo wrapped his tail over Tugger and Munkustrap’s legs. Quaxo curled up at his head and started grooming soothingly.

“Tell Vic ‘m okay?” Alonzo asked. “And Cass?”

“Of course, dear.”

Alonzo buried his face in Tugger’s mane and let the soothing darkness claim him.

Alonzo cracked a sleepy eye open. The den was placid. He lifted his head slightly, trying to determine what had woken him. Munkustrap was still sleeping; Quaxo was gone and Jennyanydots was nowhere to be seen, though she often slept with Jellylorum and Gus Jr. if there were sick cats in her den.

Something jerked stiffly against Alonzo’s body and a pained, breathless mewl broke the silence. Alonzo pushed himself onto his elbow, finally registering that the Rum Tum Tugger was trying to move.

“Tugger?” he whispered.

The one eye Alonzo could see was a slit of gold in the dark, hazy with half-consciousness. With Munkustrap and Alonzo curled around him as they were, Tugger could barely twitch, but it was clear that he didn’t realize it. A gasping trill escaped the large cat as he strained his limbs.

“Tugger, you’re home,” Alonzo murmured.

He leaned down to lick the Maine Coon’s cheek fur; it was damp and salty. How long had Tugger been attempting to move before his efforts had woken Alonzo?

The patch tom purred comfortingly. “You’re okay. You’re in Jenny’s den. Munkustrap is here.”

Tugger’s attempts to get up slackened. He forced his eyes open further and a shaking paw tried to lift from the nest, making it a whole centimeter towards Alonzo. Tugger’s glassy eyes met his and his lips moved but the best he could do was force out a breathy sound that might have been Alonzo’s name. Alonzo took the paw.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, hoping he was guessing correctly, “We’re safe.”

The Maine Coon slowly settled as Alonzo continued to purr comforting nonsense into his ears. He heard a weak but answering rumble and licked Tugger’s cheek again.

“Sleep,” he ordered softly. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Alonzo watched Tugger’s eyes slide shut. Only when Tugger was breathing calmly again did Alonzo lie back down, leaving his arm wrapped over the other cat. As he drifted off once more, the patch tom thought Munkustrap’s blue eyes were watching him, but he was asleep before he could confirm it.

When Alonzo next came to awareness, the Rum Tum Tugger was still sleeping soundly under his arm. He couldn’t see if there had been any change to the light outside and wondered idly how long he’d been sleeping. His paws weren’t throbbing quite as much, but he felt the sting when he attempted a careful stretch. At least his limbs weren’t flopping everywhere.

“You of all cats can’t possibly need this much beauty sleep,” Alonzo muttered, nosing into Tugger’s mane.

“Getting familiar?”

Alonzo almost jumped out of his skin as he jolted upright. Quaxo had the audacity to giggle. The patch tom flattened his ears in annoyance and slumped back into the blankets.

“Give me a heart attack,” he grumbled, baring his teeth half-heartedly.

“Sorry,” Quaxo said through his laughter. “It’s cute, though.”

“Oh, shut up. How long have I been out this time?” he asked.

“It’s just gone mid-morning. You slept the night,” the tuxedo said.

“Munkustrap?”

“Went to get breakfast. Should be back any minute. Paws.”

Alonzo obediently allowed Quaxo to unwrap and examine his paws.

“Jenny will be happy to know these look better,” Quaxo murmured as he dabbed them gently. When they were sufficiently cleaned he rubbed a bit of salve into them. “She’s just outside. She’ll probably let you out tonight.”

Alonzo nodded noncommittally as Quaxo rewrapped his paws.

“G‘nna... leave my... 'lustrious company?”

Quaxo and Alonzo spun around. “Tugger?”

The Maine Coon’s voice was husky with discomfort. He wasn’t able to sit properly, but he’d managed to get his head up and his eyes were no longer foggy. “You expectin’ someone else?”

Quaxo stumbled over himself and nearly ran into a wall in his haste to get outside. Tugger coughed a laugh as they listened to him calling for Jenny. A second later the tuxedo came bursting back in with Jennyanydots hot on his heels.

“Thank Bast,” Jenny murmured, bustling to Tugger’s side. “Alonzo, dear, help him up. Gently now. Quaxo, some water?”

Alonzo raised Tugger gently into his lap; he felt Tugger melt into his support and brushed the fur between his shoulders gently. Jenny sliced his bandages open with a delicate claw and removed the bloody gauze. Tugger held still as she worked, pressing his face into Alonzo’s shoulder while Jenny cleaned the gouges. His throat worked but he never made a sound.

“There we are,” Jenny said softly, securing the new gauze.

She stroked her claws through what remained of Tugger’s mane, grooming as much as checking that stray fur wasn’t getting in the burn sores around his neck. It probably said volumes about how he was feeling that his only objection was a shiver. When Jenny finished her inspection, she nuzzled his cheek.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she said with soft intensity.

Tugger smiled weakly. The Gumbie cat looked like she might have wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. She gathered up the pile of bloody gauze and nodded to Quaxo as she took it outside to dispose of. The tuxedo brought over a cup of water.

“Here, you should drink.”

Despite resting on Alonzo, Tugger’s body was trembling with the effort of staying upright. Alonzo held him steady while Quaxo helped him drink. He had just emptied the cup when Munkustrap entered the den, bearing a freshly dead rat. Jenny must have intercepted the silver tabby at the entrance; he didn’t seem totally surprised to see either Alonzo or Tugger up but his eyes were bright- and perhaps a bit wet with unshed tears of relief.

He dropped the rat at Quaxo’s feet and leaned in for a nuzzle with Alonzo. “You’re looking better.”

“Less drugged,” Alonzo agreed.

Munkustrap gingerly took up his place at his brother’s side once again. He pressed their foreheads together. “It’s g-...” he swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you awake.”

“That’s what Jenny said,” Tugger rasped, closing his eyes and leaning in.

Munkustrap batted him lightly. “Don’t make this weird.”

Tugger laughed and Alonzo couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him. It was a relief to see the large cat animated again, even if he was still obviously tired and aching. He and Munkustrap stayed still for a long minute, breathing each other’s air.

“I didn’t think he would- he didn’t say what he wanted,” Tugger blurted as they parted. “But he got... I dunno, he was... smug when he recognized ‘Lonz and I- ”

“It’s alright,” Munkustrap hushed him. “You scared the Everlasting out of me, but you did well out there.”

“The state of my fur suggests otherwise,” Tugger said dubiously.

“You got back up.”

Tugger flushed, recognizing the echo of his own words as clearly as Alonzo did. He nonetheless looked doubtful about the truth of it. Alonzo absently smoothed an unblemished span of Tugger’s fur.

“Breakfast,” Quaxo interrupted quietly, nudging the skinned rat forward.

The meat was already portioned out and Alonzo found himself somewhat absurdly grateful. On a normal day, a rat would be enough for a single meal; at the moment just thinking about a whole rat made him feel sick. He imagined that Tugger probably felt similarly. When they were finished, Tugger gave a jaw-cracking yawn.

“You should rest,” Munkustrap said immediately. “I’ll get you fresh bedding.”

“Been sleepin’, Straps.”

“Unconsciousness isn’t sleeping,” Quaxo chided. He popped up with a mug of tea. “Here, medicine.”

Tugger groaned. “C’mon,” he whined, “that’s hardly necessary, Sparkles.”

“Humor us. We’ve been worrying about you for two days and you’re still shaking,” Quaxo said sweetly.

The large cat muttered something that was probably unflattering but his paw crept out to take the mug. Alonzo reached instinctively to help him. As though he’d forgotten he’d been resting on Alonzo the whole time, Tugger startled. His blue and gold eyes slowly raised until they met Alonzo’s green.

“Oh, Everlasting, ’m still just lyin’ all over you, aren’t I? Sorry. I’ll move. I just, uh. Might need your help?”

“You don’t need to,” Alonzo said.

“No, it’s fine, you’ll wanna leave and-”

“I don’t.”

Blue and gold eyes blinked once. Twice. Squinted at Alonzo in confusion. “Huh?”

“Drink the tea and relax. I’m staying tonight, anyway.”

“O-oh... kay.”

Alonzo sympathized- he didn’t really know what had possessed him, either. He was just thankful that both Munkustrap and Quaxo were politely doing some completely unnecessary blanket refolding at the other end of the den.

“I don’t want to leave. You don’t need to move. Just... drink, okay?”

“... I still think this is entirely unnecessary,” Tugger grumbled, but he obeyed.

Alonzo steadied Tugger’s paws so he could drink the tea. He licked away a few stray droplets that fell into Tugger’s cheek fur. When Tugger was finished, Quaxo took the mug away. Munkustrap pulled the dirty blankets out of the way to be laundered and replaced them with fresh bedding. The silver tabby then helped Tugger into the remade nest. Tugger attempted to knead it out even though his lethargic motions didn’t do much.

“You’re sure you-” he started, an eyebrow creeping up.

“I’m staying,” Alonzo said firmly.

Munkustrap licked a stripe from the tip of Tugger’s nose up the top of his head. “Get some real sleep.”

“Don’t you have better things to do? A junkyard to keep safe? Cats to watch over?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, git?”

Tugger’s tail lashed in embarrassment, which he tried to hide behind a yawn. He stretched out and then curled up as much as the bandages would allow. Munkustrap chuckled and shook his head affectionately.

“I’m going to give everyone an update. Not going far and I’ll be right back.”

“Tell Bombs she still can’t have my title while you’re out there.”

“‘Title’?”

“She knows what it means.”

Munkustrap ushered Quaxo outside. When they were gone, Alonzo took a fortifying breath. He slowly laid himself along Tugger’s side, giving Tugger plenty of time to object. Tugger declined to do so. Alonzo nuzzled just behind his ear. It flicked against his muzzle but the Maine Coon didn’t make an attempt to move away.

“‘Lonz- are you really saying-”

“I volunteered to come after you,” the patch tom said slowly, “because I wanted to.”

“You never...” Tugger shrugged and turned to face Alonzo, “Well, you never seemed all that interested in talking to me. I could get more outta Quax than you most days.”

“I know,” Alonzo grimaced. “It’s... he’s still expressive even if he’s silent, see. I’m not. I thought it was... safer, I suppose. I didn’t know if I could... uh... keep up. With your fan club and all. It seemed easier to admire from afar and... not try.”

Tugger snorted in amusement. “So everybody’s favorite slinky was yearning after me all along, eh? Wait ‘till I tell Straps. He’ll be so jealous.”

“Braggart,” Alonzo said fondly.

“My achievements are real, though, so y’can’t say I’m lyin’,” Tugger grinned. He yawned again and pressed into Alonzo’s warmth. “Ugh, that stuff hits fast.”

Alonzo dared a quick kiss to the corner of Tugger’s mouth. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

“Gonna hafta do better n’ that,” the Maine Coon said, lips curled softly.

He was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. Alonzo huffed an affectionate sigh. He pressed their lips together lightly, careful to keep it light and almost friendly. There would be time for passion later.

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