#hmmm still don’t think he actually needs stitches if he can just let it close on its own without constantly putting pressure on it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yungidreamer · 4 years

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Claimed

Summary: An intruder enters the territory of Chan and his pack, attacking people and causing havoc. Seemingly by chance he saves a victim that turns out to be his mate, but as fate would have it, he happens to be a wolf at the time. How will he protect her, come clean, and claim his mate?

Word count: 8.2k

Content warnings: slightly dark themes, a werewolf serial killer who is a vindictive asshole, impregnation kink, marking, minor descriptions of violence, sort of stalking, sort of possessive behavior. Some cursing.

Music: Come Out by Lenise Morales and War of Hearts by Ruelle

“Come on, boy,” she said, patting her leg and holding out the leash. “Let’s go on a walk before it gets too late.” Chan hopped up off his round dog bed near the couch, wagging his tail as he came to her. He sat patiently, turning his head to let her reach the leather collar she had put on his neck. Jesus, his pack mates would be in hysterics if they saw him like this, he thought to himself. But he could have endured the embarrassment for her.

How had he ended up like this? Really, it was a mix of destiny and bad luck on both of their parts. He honestly never thought he would meet his mate when he was in his wolf form and hurt on top of it. Fights weren’t something he got into that often and something he avoided when he could, but that night three months ago he had caught that piece of shit lone wolf stalking her.

Why the loner had picked her, he had no idea, but Chan had to be grateful in some ways. How long would it have been before he ran across her if not for that? Jesus, what if he had gotten there too late? He didn’t want to think about it.

That night he had been sent to track the interloper that had been causing havoc in their territory. He was the first of the pack to actually find him, which must have been luck since Minho was generally the best tracker and Changbin a close second. They had taken the two days before and barely missed catching him at the no-tell motel he had been staying at and at some restaurant where he had mauled some poor woman heading home after her shift. Changbin had been furious with himself for not tracking him fast enough and had been the one to find her bloodied and crying near the back door of the restaurant. He had shifted back to human and called 911, telling them he had been passing by when he heard her crying, a plausible enough story not to raise any suspicion. Besides as far as anyone involved knew, it was a rabid dog attack… a massive rabid dog.

Tracking was exhausting work and got shared amongst all the members of the pack. The third night had been his job and he had taken a neighborhood near the one he had been stalking, suspecting he had moved his hunting grounds but not that far. His hunch had been right, but it was pure luck that he had come across the scent of the intruder as he patrolled, just hoping to catch some hint, some clue.

That whiff had pulled him down an alley and into the strip mall parking lot of the craft store. For the life of him, he could not figure out why on earth he would pick this sort of place. The parking lot was half empty since most of the stores were already closed… except the big hobby shop. The sodium orange lights of the parking lot had flickered and buzzed, bothering his sensitive senses and it must have done the same for the lone wolf… so why on earth would he choose to hunt here.

Chan had spotted him, in human form, leaning casually on a planter half a dozen meters from the entrance to the store taking a drag on a hand rolled cigarette. He had let out an involuntary huffing sneeze, hating the smell as it drifted to him. That had given him away. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense that he was a fellow werewolf, no dog would have been wandering around alone in a parking lot here, like this, at this hour.

“I’m surprised you found me, rover,” the loner had chuckled, self-satisfied and amused. “I would have let you guys be, but you couldn’t just let me hunt a little.” Chan had growled as he watched him stand up, letting the shadows and flickering lights obscure his face as he pulled himself into a standing position. He had moved fast, charging at Chan and drawing a knife just before he got within an arm's length of him. Chan dodged but not fast enough, and the knife caught him in the ribs, grazing over a couple of them before he could dig his teeth into the man’s arm.

“Fuck,” the man yelled, punching Chan in the jaw to force him to let go. Stars sparkled in his vision and pain sliced through him as the knife slid along his collarbone and upper leg. He had gotten one last swipe in before retreating, leaving Chan bloodied and limping.

A safe place to shift was what he had needed, there surely would have been someplace nearby, a little alcove or alley between a couple of the shops, but before he could get very far, she had stepped out of the store, locking up and leaving for the night. Chan froze. He had been slinking away, slowly trying to get out of view, but was still very clearly in view when she had stepped out. His pain had blinded him to other sensations at first, but even before she turned and saw him, it hit him like a freight train.

Mine the sensation said with a ferocity he had never felt before. Why he had to find his mate like this, he had no idea. He wasn’t particularly unlucky. He didn’t spend tons of time as a wolf either. His pack was pretty chill and was pretty careful to stay below the radar. Their territory was safe and they were known for not being overly territorial, letting people pass through without a problem so long as they left and didn’t make problems. So how he ran across her while he was shifted and injured was just stupidly bad luck.

She had gasped when she finally turned around and saw him, but who wouldn’t when they turned around to see a massive dog behind them limping and bleeding. A moment’s fear had shot through her at the sight until Chan had whimpered, flattening himself on the pavement to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Hey puppy,” she said softly, putting out her hand for him to sniff as she leaned down, slowly coming closer. “Can I take a look at you?”

Yes please, he thought, rolling gently onto his uninjured side.

“What on earth happened to you… boy?” She asked, catching sight of his belly. “I don’t suppose you are going to make this easy on me and would just get in my car if I brought it around?” She sighed and patted his head. Rubbing his head into her hand, he rolled back over and pulled himself up to stand again. “Maybe you can just come with me, hmmm?” Standing up, she started to move towards her car, keeping an eye on him as he slowly limped behind her. She opened the back door to her car and patted the seat, inviting him to hop in, which he did quite happily. “Well at least that was easy.” She observed, closing the door behind him as he laid down on the back seat. “Now we just have to go spend my whole paycheck at the emergency vets.”

Sorry, he said to her in his head. I’ll pay you back when I can. Pain pulsed through him as the city lights swished over him in the back seat. The emergency vet clinic was only a half an hour away but that was way longer than he would have ever wanted to have to lay bleeding in the backseat of a car. In fact, he really was sure he could have gone his whole damn life without knowing what that felt like.

He was tough, he was the alpha of the group, though he didn’t enforce a hard hierarchy like some did. They were more family than anything else. They looked out for each other, did their part, contributed in any way that they could. It worked well for them and everyone was pretty happy with the arrangement. It was just his job to be the final voice when decisions needed to be made or to speak for the group when dealing with outsiders.

“Can you get up, pup?” She asked when she opened the door in the parking lot of the vet’s office. Chan nodded, though it probably didn’t look like it, what with being a dog and all, and stood up on slightly shaky limbs. Thank god they were close, he thought to himself as he stepped out the door and onto the pavement.

“I need some help please,” she said as they stepped through the automatic sliding door of the clinic.

“Oh my god,” the woman behind the counter said when she caught sight of him, picking up the phone on the desk and hitting a couple of buttons. “Doctor West we need you in reception now please, and bring whoever is back there to help.” She hung up the phone and dashed out from behind the desk. “What on earth happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said looking down at Chan as she kept a hand on his head. “I was just coming out of work and found him like this in the parking lot. Maybe he got cut getting out of a yard or went through a window or something?”

The receptionist had shrugged, it seemed like as good an explanation as any. They had taken him back, stitched him up and scanned him for an ID chip, which, shocker, he didn’t have. With no one else seemingly accountable for him, she had decided to take him home, saying she would try and find his owners. For now, she would pay for the vet bills and she just had to hope whoever owned him would pay her back. Though honestly, given the shape he was in, she wasn’t holding out hope there was someone, or at least someone responsible.

That was how he had ended up here and stuck in his canine form way more than he was used to. The one upside was that he was with her. She had spent a couple of weeks hanging up posters with his picture, but eventually just decided to adopt him herself, leaving him in the weirdest bind he could imagine.

The first few days he had stayed just because everything hurt too much to do anything else. I’ll change back soon, he told himself, I just need the stitches to heal a little first. Then one evening when she came home he could smell him and cigarettes on her and his heart had clenched. The loner had been there for her? For his mate? At that moment, that realization he had a feeling he never would have thought possible. Thank god I was the one that got stabbed. That had settled it. He had to be there, he had to stay and protect her, at least until the intruder was caught.

Not long after that he had shifted when she was off at work, finally getting in touch with his pack. After the understandable chewing out he let Jisung give him since he had basically disappeared without a word for DAYS, he explained what had happened and told him to pick someone to shadow her while she was out or at work. Jisung agreed, letting out a low whistle at the story and the news that he had found his mate. Chan left the details to him and the others, still not feeling even 50% if he had to be honest. He trusted them and for now, he was stuck.

Now it had been three months and the loner was still on the loose and still in their territory. They had no idea why and he had only attacked one person since that night. Now and again, when she came home from work, he would smell him on her, and still other times, he would catch the smell of the loner when they walked through the neighborhood. But it was never enough, never that fresh, and he had no idea how he was flitting around so close yet so far.

Jisung had the brilliant idea of getting one of them hired to work with her at the craft store. Chan had to admit, it had been a good idea, it kept someone close, but it probably wouldn’t have been the solution he would have wanted. Smelling Changbin on her every night when she came home from work rankled him an unbelievable amount, despite the fact that he knew nothing was happening with them. But between smelling his pack mate and the loner on her, and being unable to do anything with her aside from pretending to be her pet was going to drive him mad.

How on earth was he supposed to tell her who he really was? Buck also couldn’t just disappear. And yes, she had named him after the dog in Call of the Wild which was both adorable and painful. She was attached to him...just the wrong him. He needed to come clean but, aside from breaking to her that werewolves existed at all, something that would most likely freak her out, saying, surprise (!) you know that dog you’ve been letting sleep in your bed and changing in front of… well, he’s actually a guy. Because, you know, that would go over really well.

So that was how he ended up on the end of her leash, heading out for a walk. If he didn’t have to do this as a dog and have to make a show of going to the bathroom on these walks, he would be far happier. It was nice being out with her, he just wanted to be able to do it as a person, maybe holding her hand, though he might have tolerated a collar and leash if she really liked it for some reason.

Chan walked ahead of her, scenting the air as they made their evening loop of the neighborhood. All seemed well and normal for the most part, at least for the first half of the walk. But as they made the turn that would head them back towards home the scent of the loner drifted across their path. Chan stopped, causing her to bump into him and make a little sound of surprise as she accidentally stepped on one of his back feet.

“What’s the matter, Buck?” She asked, looking in the direction he was looking. “Did you see something?” Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer and, after pausing for a few seconds, she moved past him, trying to snap him into moving again. Chan stepped in front of her, preventing her from going as he tried to place where the scent was coming from. “Come on, boy, I want to go home.”

I know, he said mentally, willing for her to understand him. Trust me, me too. Suddenly he saw it, the shape of another of his kind skulking on the other side of a cinder block wall. It’s dark chestnut fur moved slightly in the breeze as the animal stayed stock still. In a split second, it dashed back behind the wall and Chan gave chase. He pulled his leash out of her hand, sending a mental apology to her, and immediately gave chase. He couldn’t let this just keep going on. She called out his name, well the name she had given him, as he disappeared behind the wall, giving chase.

Quick as a flash, he saw the tail disappear around the back of the house on the other side of the block wall. He skidded around the corner, keeping the scent trail of the intruder under his nose. The chase led him through alleys and back yards as they ran and dodged. Finally he saw him disappear over a high fence and Chan lept after him, feeling like he was finally gaining on him.

When he landed he heard a snap and knew immediately that he had made a mistake. A sharp pain shot through his front leg. It had all been a plan, been a trap to get him here, to get him trapped… and to leave her alone. He had never really felt as stupid as he did right now. He finally gathered the will to look down at his leg to see it clasped in a leg hold trap, cut and bleeding, but thankfully not broken, probably by sheer luck. He couldn’t run like this and he had to get back to her.

With a gulp, he changed back, needing the dexterity of human hands to get out of the contraption. It pinched harder, stinging his nerves as his leg turned into an arm, thickening in the vice like grip. It took him a moment to stop seeing stars and then another to figure out how to press down the sides of the trap to open it. When he was finally free, he looked around. He had to get out but running around naked and bleeding was a great way to get the cops called on him.

Making his way to the edge of the neighboring yard, he looked over the wall to see laundry hanging on a line outside. He hopped over the wall and took a t-shirt and some pants, promising to try to remember to bring them back when he could. Once he was dressed, he ran. He ran towards where he had left her; ran like his life depended on it. Ran because hers probably did. His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed back to where he had left her.

Suddenly he heard a scream rend the air and he felt his whole body go cold. So stupid, he berated himself as he willed his body to move faster. Turning the corner a couple of blocks from where he had left her alone, he saw her… and him. The loner had cornered her against a fence in the front yard of some house, a hand around her throat and a knife pressed against her ribs. Without a second thought, Chan rushed forward with a guttural growl. The loner heard him and turned. Momentarily distracted from her, he didn’t notice when she jerked herself down, loosening his grip enough on her neck to fall in the direction opposite the knife he held on her. With his attention torn between two people now, Chan had the upper hand and wrestled him away from her.

“Run,” Chan commanded her as he tackled the loner to the ground. They rolled and grappled like gladiators, vying for dominance, both ignoring her. Something that turned out to be a mistake on the part of the loner. Just as he rolled on top, pinning Chan by gripping his injured arm, she rushed toward them, picking up the dropped knife and driving it into his back. The loner let out a rage filled scream and rolled away from them both as he changed back into his wolf form. Running away as quickly as he could manage and disappearing into the neighborhood.

“Are you okay,” Chan asked, getting up and grasping her upper arms. Her face was a mask of shock, eyes wide and not really seeing anything. “Look at me. Tell me that you are okay.”

“I have to find my dog,” she said, her eyes flashing around them, yet she didn’t pull away. “I think he tried to chase that thing away. He ran off and I need to make sure he’s okay… he was already hurt and…”

“I’m okay,” Chan said to her, giving her a little shake to get her attention. “I’m Buck. You found me in a parking lot and saved me. It’s me.” Her eyes snapped to his face and she went white. “I was following him that night, trying to figure why he was here. That’s how I got hurt, but that’s how I found you.”

“You were looking for me, too?” She shrank back, her eyes searching for something in his face.

“No, but,” Chan sighed. He needed to come clean but this wasn’t the place. Not in the open, not in someone else’s yard. “Let’s go home. Please. Can we talk there?”

“Home?” She asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Your home,” he corrected. “Just, let me explain. Give me a chance.”

She looked down at the arms that were holding her, finally noticing his cut arm. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not that bad,” he let go of her arms, trying to hide his injury a little.

“Let me take care of it,” she offered timidly. “Then we can talk.” Chan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. With a nod he led them both back to the house, keeping a gentle hand on her wrist as they walked. He needed the assurance that she was there, that she was safe.

She followed, letting him take the lead, slightly unsettled by how well he knew the way to her house. Part of her still didn’t believe him. But then again, she had just seen a man change into a dog or… wolf maybe, and she couldn’t explain that. She had never seen him before and yet he knew her dog, he knew where she lived, he had saved her. She wasn’t 100% sure, but something told her to trust him.

When they got to her house, she let them in and Chan pulled her inside, locking the door behind them before tucking her behind him as he scanned the room and tested the air inside the house for anything amiss. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he stepped further into the living room and headed towards the bathroom to care for his arm. He really knows where everything is, she thought as she watched him head there without hesitation. Stepping up to the sink he started running warm water, dipping his arm under the spigot to rinse it. He hissed as the water hit the wound, a tingling pain shooting outwards from it.

“Here,” she stepped up beside him, dampening her hands and lathering them so she could gently wash his wound. Chan sucked in a breath between his teeth at the sting. “Sorry,” she said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I appreciate you helping me. I owe you my life twice over now.”

“Seems like both times it was because of me anyway so…” she didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on what her hands were doing.

“It’s not your fault,” Chan soothed. “We should have gotten him out of here long ago. He just… he keeps slipping away.”

“So what are you?” She asked as she patted his skin dry with a towel.

“Werewolf,” he replied softly. “But I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded and pulled some gauze and tape out of the cabinet behind her. Kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the toilet, she spread some anti-infection cream over one of the wounds before putting gauze over it and taping it down. She did the same with the other side, then wrapped both with a sports wrap to keep it secure on his arm.

“What’s your name?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“Chan,” he replied gently, reaching out to cup her cheek. “My name is Chan.”

“That fits better than Buck,” she gave him a nervous smile and laugh.

“God I love hearing my name on your lips,” he admitted. He leaned forward hesitantly, giving her a chance to pull away, taking her lips with a gentle firmness. She tasted like heaven, even better than he had dreamed those nights when he lay beside her in bed pretending to be her pet.

What am I doing, she asked herself, feeling a fuzzy, intoxication filling her brain as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue darted out against her bottom lip, begging her to open to him. Why did he taste so good, she wondered as she shivered under his touch. He was hardly the first guy she had kissed but he felt different and she didn’t understand it. She didn’t know him at all, despite the fact he seemed to have been living in her house for months.

“Love, I… I need,” Chan pulled back and stepped away from her. “We need to talk.”

“Sorry,” she leaned back, not meeting his eyes, wiping her lips to try and erase the distracting sensations.

“No, don’t apologize,” he soothed, reaching out to her. “I just need—” he broke off. “I need you to understand.”

“What do I need to understand?” she asked him, frustration coursing through her.

“You’re mine,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I knew it the moment I saw you that you were supposed to be mine. I protect what’s mine. But I need you to choose me. I can wait. I can send someone else to stay here and protect you. Just… I need it to be your choice because once I have you. I’m not letting you go.”

She should have been afraid, she should have made him leave and run as far as she could as fast as she could. But something in her trusted him. No that wasn’t strong enough. Something said he was right, they were a part of each other.

“Okay,” she nodded as much as she could, still restricted by his hands on her face.

“What?” He asked, his eyes searching hers, trying to divine what she was saying.

“I understand,” Her hands came up to loosely grip his wrists, guiding his hands down from her face. She leaned forward, bringing her lips to his.

“Wait,” Chan took a step back, having to use all his willpower to do so. “You’re sure?” She nodded and his will broke. It had taken so much of him to pull away, to do the right thing. He hadn’t expected her to accept him and what he was. With a desperate hunger, he smashed his lips into hers as he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. He already knew the place well enough he didn’t have to take his lips from hers as he took them both to her room. He tossed her onto the bed and crawled in over her, pressing her into the mattress with his body. He was pure muscle as he pressed himself against her, she could feel it even through the odd mismatched clothing he was still wearing.

“Chan,” she breathed when he shifted to kiss along her cheek.

“Say it again,” he groaned, grinding himself against her. “Say my name.”

“Chan,” her hand tangled in his hair, holding him close. He pulled back, only long enough to strip off the shirt and to slip the borrowed jeans off his hips. He covered her still clothed body with his, drawing her arms around his neck. She moaned underneath him, parting her thighs to let him settle between them.

“I think I’m a little overdressed,” she pointed out.

“I can fix that,” he grinned, rolling them both over. With hurried hands he pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra before sliding it off her arms and tossing it across the room. His pupils widened as he took in her bare breasts. They looked soft and inviting and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to cup them. She giggled and covered his hands with hers. Sliding backwards off him, she unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chan propped himself up on his elbows and took all of her in with his gaze. Her hands lifted to cover herself and he sat up, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Don’t hide…” he blushed slightly as he admitted it, “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her down to straddle him, running his hand over her waist and thighs.

She leaned down, bringing her lips to his as his hands wandered over her body. He had thought about this moment for months. Being so near her and having her not notice him, not see him had been killing him. So close, yet so far. Every night when she changed for bed, he had done his best not to stare as she stripped and put on her pajamas, only peeking a few times. Everytime she wrapped her arms around him and cuddled into his fur as she went to sleep. He had wanted to change, to confess, to throw himself on her.

Now he had her holding him as his human hands wandered over her soft curves and it was even better than he had dreamed. She smelled like heaven. Like the forest in summer and fields of wildflowers. He wanted to take her in every way possible. Kissing along the side of her neck, he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing her body against his tightly. He wanted to taste her, to feel her flesh in his mouth, to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He knew why. It wasn’t that he wanted to eat her. The bite would mark her as his to any other wolf that might cross her path. It would meld them together according to their customs and the rules of the pack. The mark would claim her as his alone and give her the protection of the pack.

Breathing deeply, he fought the urge. He needed to do this right. I’m not an animal, he reminded himself, rolling over and moving them both to the center of the bed. Her pleasure had to come first.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. “I just want you to feel me.” She looked into his eyes for a second before nodding and closing her eyes as she laid on the bed beside him. Kissing her lips, he tasted her with a slow and lazy sense of leisure, reminding them both they had all night. He licked and nibbled at her lower lip, letting out an involuntary whine as he asked her to open to him. She parted her lips and let him in, still allowing him to set the pace, to guide her. His tongue thrust into her mouth with a hungry confidence. He devoured her like a sweet dessert, enjoying her taste with a slow deliberation. As he did, one hand played lightly over her chest and collarbone. His touch was as light a feather, teasing her with the contrast of sensations.

Leaving her lips, he slid himself down her body, dragging his lips and tongue over her neck to the center of her chest. He could hear her heart beating under her delicate rib cage, fluttering like a wounded bird. The sound stirred the animal inside him. Was she afraid? Her scent tickled his nose telling him that she was mostly aroused but underneath it was a faint sliver of fear. It wasn’t a fear of him, or at least not a real fear of him. It was the type of fear that makes a rollercoaster fun or that tickles your stomach when you stand near the precipice of a mountain and take in the wonder of the view. That frisson of a potential danger that was entirely unlikely, but not impossible. Looking up her body, he saw her bite her lip in anticipation of… something, of him.

He slid between her legs and moved lower on her body. He kissed and nipped at the flesh of her belly; so soft and vulnerable. The wolf in him loved that she trusted his teeth there. His wolf could have ripped that flesh with such ease and the fact that she trusted him like this made pleasure rippled through him. Moving lower, he settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Can I taste you?” He asked, nuzzling against her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly as her hands fisted around the blanket beneath her.

“Show me what you like,” he instructed, licking a line up the slit of her body. “Let me know how to please you.” She nodded, her hands fidgeting with anticipation. “Baby girl, you can look at me now.”

Opening her eyes, she looked down the line of her body to see his hungry eyes fixed on her. Chan’s hand reached up to take hers as he held her hips down with the other, keeping eye contact as he made a testing thrust of his tongue into her. She gasped and squeezed his hand. Satisfaction settled in his chest and he threw himself into pleasing her as he read her body. He licked and nipped and sucked at her until she came apart underneath him with a strangled cry. She was beautiful and he had never felt as powerful as he did in that moment.

He needed to take her, to fill her with his seed until he was sure she would bare his child. An image of her, round with child, floated through his mind. Yes, the wolf inside him growled, take her. Chan slid up her body and positioned himself at her entrance as he pulled her into a kiss. She could taste herself on him as he stole her breath.

“Are you ready for me, baby girl?” He asked, brushing hair off her face.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes hazy as she looked up at him. “Please, I want you in me.”

“I would give you anything you asked for,” He admitted, coaxing her thighs around his hips. “Have you… done this before?”

“Yeah,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hold back. Holding her face in his hands, he looked into her eyes as he curled his hips into hers with a slow deliberation. He watched as her face filled with wonder at the feel of his invasion. When he was finally seated fully inside her, he paused, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body stretched to accommodate him. It was like she was built to hold him.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, running the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“God, yes, please,” she nodded, digging her nails into the skin and muscles of his back. Smiling down at her and keeping eye contact, he pulled himself half way out before thrusting back inside her. She sighed at the delicious friction. His body felt so good inside her, felt like it belonged, or perhaps that they were becoming a part of each other. Chan moved slowly, relishing this moment. She shivered, her hands grasping at his wide shoulders as he moved.

“Please,” she said again. “I need more.”

“Anything for you,” he soothed, placing a few kisses across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He pulled his hips back and plunged inside her, going as deeply as he could. Setting a steady rhythm, Chan buried his face in her neck as he began to let go and lose himself in the feeling. She filled every sense of his. Her smell, her feel, and the taste of her skin under his lips. Even her pants and moans filled him as they teased his ears in the quiet of the room. Her limbs held him close, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling.

Pleasure rose inside him and he knew there was only so long he would last like this. He wanted to feel her come around him, feel her body milk him as she came beneath his touch again. Her heels hooked around the back of his thighs as she arched against him. The slight change in angle let him brush the sensitive spot inside her, making her quiver and gasp.

“Harder, there,” she begged, a desperation growing inside her.

“Are you close,” he questioned, his face tucked in against her neck.

“So close,” she whimpered, her nails raking his spine.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” Chan panted. “I need to hear you cum.” She whined and moved restlessly against him as the warm pleasure pooled in her stomach. He put his lips to the thrumming pulse of her throat.

“Chan,” her voice was barely a whisper when the knot of delight finally snapped inside her. As her body gripped him, he bit the flesh where her neck and shoulders met marking her as his. The shock of pain melded with her orgasm sending a cascade of sensations through her. With a final thrust he came inside her, filling her body with his emissions. He stayed like that until he felt her move restlessly beneath him and only then, reluctantly pulled out and moved to curl up beside her on the bed.

Her hand went to the bite on her neck. It still stung slightly but not nearly as much as she thought it should. Chan splayed a hand over her stomach, rubbing it in small circles.

“Are… are you okay,” he asked, looking at her lovingly as he laid beside her.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking her hand from her neck. “I didn’t expect you to bite me.”

“Just this once,” he promised, pulling himself closer to her. “It marks you as mine, gives you the protection of my pack. You’ll carry a little of my scent now.”

“Oh,” she blushed and looked at him. “Am I supposed to feel different? I don’t feel any different.”

“No,” he chuckled and smiled at her. “It’s something only my kind would notice.” She nodded and laced her fingers with his where they laid on her stomach.

“Did you do it so that he, whoever he is, would know?” She questioned. “Was this all just to, I don’t know, put him off?”

“No, although I would be happy if it did,” He gave her an adoring look. “This was because you were meant to be mine. Meant to be the mother of my babies; to be by my side for as long as we live.”

“So you want children,” she laughed.

“I want to see you filled with my child,” he admitted, his eyes going to where his hand lay on her. “I want to see it grow inside you. I want to raise it with you, watch it grow into someone as beautiful as you are.”

“Someday,” she nodded. “But I’ve been on birth control, so I don’t think we could just yet.”

“The bond,” he explained. “When I claimed you with my mark, it sort of…” he paused, searching for the right wording. “It opens you to me.”

“Oh,” she blinked at him a few times, trying to process what he was saying. “Even if we just… this one time?”

“Maybe,” he furrowed his brow slightly. “If you don’t want, at least not yet,” sitting up, he moved to help her walk to the bathroom. “We can try to clean you out, maybe prevent it.”

“No, it’s just a lot to adjust to,” she explained. “A lot has sort of happened since this morning.”

“I know, baby girl,” he laid down again and pulled her into a spooning position against him. “Let’s go to sleep for now and figure out the rest in the morning.”

Over the next few days neither of them left the house. She called in sick to work, not wanting to put either of them in danger by going out to a place he could so easily find and potentially corner her. Even with Changbin there, with so many people and such a big space, it would be possible to miss him, or at the very least, to not notice him until it was too late. Instead his pack mates came over to plan their next move. Chan spent most of his time planning with Minho and Changbin, setting patrol schedules and scout missions for everyone. Hyunjin was assigned the duty to investigate at the hotel and talk to the woman who had been mauled. Maybe it wasn’t a random coincidence that he had picked her, Felix had suggested after their second meeting. After all, if he was just looking to hurt people and just stir up trouble here, why target her? Sure it could have been a coincidence if he had just been foiled and chosen another target, but he hadn’t.

The suggestion had made Chan go cold. It made sense, but what had made him target her? There wasn’t something particularly special about her, except that she was his mate, but even he hadn’t known that yet. Was it possible the loner had some way of knowing even before Chan did? As far as they knew, it wasn’t possible to know but, still the thought lingered.

As the meeting was drawing to a close, Chan’s phone rang. Hyunjin was calling him from the hospital where he had gone to talk to the other victim.

“Chan?” There was a slight edge of panic to Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke.

“What’s the matter?” Chan asked the other boy, worried immediately by his tone.

“She’s… she’s my mate,” Hyunjin whispered into the phone.

“What?” Chan had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. He stood up, needing to see his mate, to touch her and know that she was there and fine. He found her sitting at the table in the kitchen, snacking on something as she read.

“I’ve never met her before,” Hyunjin started to explain. “But I felt it the moment I walked into her room. She was just lying there, still sleeping, so hurt, and it just hit me. Her scent and just her presence; I know she’s mine.”

“How did he know?” Chan asked, pulling his own mate against him as he spoke.

“I don’t know, but this can’t be a coincidence,” Hyunjin insisted.

“I know,” Chan agreed.

“Look,” Hyunjin sighed. “I can’t leave her alone here. I have to stay for now.” Chan understood, letting him stay with the promise to send someone else to keep watch over her tomorrow so he could get some rest and come back to discuss what to do next.

“I hate this,” Chan said, as he sat at the cafe a block away from the craft store.

“We can hear everything that is happening,” Jisung assured him. “She’ll be fine, but we need him to come out.”

“I know,” He shifted in his seat. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

They spent the afternoon waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Over an open line, Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Jeongin listened as she went about her day like everything was fine and normal. She helped customers, stocked shelves, and worked at the register, all while Chan was on the edge of his chair, waiting for something to happen. But, it seemed, it was all for nothing. The sun set and the store closed and seemingly all was well. She locked the front door and set about closing everything down by herself.

Chan relaxed a little, hearing her calm humming as she closed down the register and counted out the money in the back of the store. After the money was counted and locked in the safe, she just had to make one last pass through of the store to make sure no one had left something behind or left a mess and then she could head home. Over the radio, Changbin and Jeongin started joking around, getting playful after a tense day. Everyone was relaxing, at least until a loud crack broke over the mic followed by her surprised squeal. The jokes stopped and everyone froze.

“I know you all are out there,” the loner’s self-satisfied voice cut through the silence. “Don’t worry. I won’t make her suffer, but sadly, you will.”

Before the words were even finished coming out of the loner’s mouth, Chan was up, running as fast as he could to the store. He had to get in, he had to protect her. Jisung was on his heels as they ran across the street and into the strip mall parking lot.

“Why?” She asked, her voice slightly strained.

“Why should he have you when my mate was stolen from me?” He growled.

“What did they have to do with that?” She asked, keeping him busy for as long as possible. If he was explaining things, he wasn’t killing her.

“Nothing,” he admitted, dragging her towards the back door. “But neither did anyone in the last three territories I went through. This one was the first one that figured out it was me though.”

“What the hell is the matter with you,” she spat. “You think you can take something from others just because it happened to you?”

“Why should I be the only one who has to be alone?” He demanded, pushing her against the wall by her neck.

“The only one,” she scoffed, realizing this was probably not the ideal way to handle this, but she couldn’t help it. “You know most people don’t have some beacon to tell them who they are supposed to be with. Even those who do, people lose the people they love all the time. Car accidents, illness, crime, no one needs your help suffering, you selfish, shitty person.”

“What do you know,” he hissed back.

“I know that your mate was lucky not to have had to spend a lifetime with someone who would do this,” she challenged. “No one deserves that.”

Shock and rage vied for dominance in his expression as he stared at her. He made a sound of pure rage and pulled back a hand to strike her. Never having been the sort to just lay down and give up, she kicked out catching the side of his knee. It didn’t really hurt him, but it was enough to unbalance him and make him catch himself, giving her the chance to break out of his grip. She knew she wouldn’t get far, he was faster and stronger, so she just tried to get as close as she could to where Chan and the others were. They would come, she had faith.

The loner came up, grabbing her from behind. “I’m glad, even if this is the last thing I do, I’m not just denying him his mate, but I’ll take his child, too.”

On the other side of the glass door, Chan felt half a second of numbing terror. He had to get inside, for both of them. Changbin picked up a part of a broken concrete curb stop and smashed it against the window, cracking the safety glass into a million little pieces, still stuck together by the coating, but weakened. He hit it again, opening a hole the size of a fist, and again, until the tear in the inner plastic layer got bigger. Impatiently, and perhaps a little recklessly, Chan covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and tore at the shattered glass. Finally the hole was big enough and he crawled through onto the display on the other side of the glass. He had to find her.

Their scuffling was audible and he found them quickly, rolling on the floor a few aisles into the store. She had curled into a ball, only moving to thwart his attempts to move her or drag her further to the back of the store. They all leapt on him, pulling him off her and dragging him away before they made sure he could never hurt another person. Chan stayed with her, trying to get her off the floor where she lay. He needed to hold her, make sure she was okay, make sure the loner hadn’t done anything to her that needed an ambulance.

She peeked out from under her arm, checking who it was before throwing herself into his arms. Relief coursed through her like she had never felt before. She breathed his name and threw her hands around his neck. Pulling her to his chest, he held her close for a moment before pulling her back to get a better look at her. Bruises were blooming on her neck and wrists, but that seemed to be the most serious injuries inflicted upon her.

“Baby girl,” he looked into her eyes, trying to find the words to express how sorry he was he hadn’t been there.

“I knew you would come,” she assured him.

“I will always come for you,” he promised, his hand dropping to her stomach. “For both of you. I will always protect my loves with everything I have.” Over the past few days he had been so preoccupied with their hunt and their planning that he hadn’t noticed the subtle change in her scent.

“How do you know,” she shook her head. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Nothing much, just a little change in your scent… hormones and all that,” He smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t really something a person could sense themselves. “Are you happy? I know this has been… too much.”

“I am,” she nodded. “I may not have chosen this way to meet you and fall into your world, but I don’t think I can imagine ending up anywhere else.”

“You’re mine,” he assured her. “And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do just to see you smile.”

Masterlist

#bang chan #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #werewolf AU #chan #stray kids #kpop imagines #kpop smut #chan smut #bang chan smut

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mindingmyownbusiness · 4 years

Text

Rescue (5/?)

Pairing - Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU Summary - You’ve always believed your soulmate was out there somewhere, Bucky not so much. What happens when he finally takes a leap of faith and reaches out to you? Warnings - some canon-typical violence in later chapters, the occasional curse word, but I promise to make up for it with loads of fluffiness Chapter Word Count - 1798 Notes - Posting has gone from once a week to super sporadic lol (sorry everyone!). My goal is currently to have it finished before school starts in a few weeks. Inspired by Rescue by Lauren Daigle and by a lot of the concepts in Sense8.

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

...a few weeks later...

“Dogs or cats?” Bucky was leaning back against his headboard, idly flipping a knife as he listened for your answer.

“Hmmm… that’s a tough one. I’m gonna say cats for right now, dogs later when I have a bigger place. I’d feel bad leaving a pupper cooped up in here while I’m at work.” You rinsed your plate and set it in the drying rack, moving to drain the sink and reaching for a dishtowel.

“I get that. Been thinking of getting a cat myself. It’d be nice to have around but would also drive Sam crazy, win-win. Your turn, Y/N.”

“Any broken bones?” You asked as you hung the dishtowel up and headed to get ready for bed.

Bucky barely stifled a laugh. “More than I care to count, doll, ribs and fingers mostly. Comes with the job.”

You try to picture him shrugging his shoulders like what he said was no big deal as you finish washing your face, shaking your head as the image fails you. “Wow… I forget how dangerous your job is sometimes…” you whispered the last bit to yourself but you knew he had to have heard you.

Not willing to let you dwell on that thought, Bucky presses forward, “How ‘bout you, hmm? Break an arm maybe? Collarbone...?”

“Nope, not a single one actually. I did have to get stitches once but I was so young I don’t remember it. Busted my face on the corner of a table when I was a toddler. Still have the scar.” You peer closer into your bathroom mirror, gently running a finger over the thin white line.

“Ouch… maybe we’ll compare scars one day..”

Bucky sheaths his knife, turning out his bedside lamp and slipping under his sheets, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. Meanwhile you’ve slipped into your pjs and climbed into bed as well, a comfortable silence enveloping you both as you tuck into a ball under your covers. Your mind begins to wander, the dark and the quiet opening doors to thoughts and questions that typically remain dormant during the light of day.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I ask you a hard question?”

“Sure…” His heartbeat picked up, suddenly wary of what you were about to ask.

“Did um… w-were you one of the ones that got dusted?”

He let out a slow breath, the memories of that terrible day playing back in his mind. “Yeah… not the most comfortable feeling.”

“Same. I remember… I remember being so confused and then… nothing. Until we all blipped back that is. Adjusting to a world that went on without you for five years hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.”

“Tell me about it…” he murmurs, his thoughts going much further back than the five short years you both lost, the statement ringing with more truth than he was ready to admit yet.

You clear your throat, “Well, I certainly ruined the mood.” Laughing nervously you forge on. “Time for a new topic, I think it’s your turn...?”

“Sure, let’s see… how are things at work?”

“It’s alright, nothing exciting really. It’s not my dream job or anything, but it pays the bills and the girls I work with are pretty nice so there’s that. How about you? I’m sure your job and the people you work with are a thousand times more interesting than what I’ve got going on.”

Bucky smiles fondly, “Well you already know Sam, can’t live with him, can’t work without him. He’s fun to mess with but I couldn’t ask for a better friend or partner… not since my last one anyway... But Sam’s not nearly as reckless as Steve. Steve was a handful in the best of times, always looking for a fight but in a good way, never backed down when he knew it was the right thing to do… Feels like I’ve been watching his back my whole life…”

“Sounds like you two were close? Did he… did something happen...?”

“Oh yeah he ah.. he sorta retired..? Just decided he was tired of putting his life on hold for the next mission. I supported him but it was still hard to see him go.”

“That’s very noble of you Bucky. You are an amazing friend and partner. He was so lucky to have you.” The admiration and pride in your voice is unmistakable.

Not one for taking compliments well, a flustered Bucky attempts to lighten the situation. “Life goes on right? The world may be getting weirder every day, especially since everyone came back, but I think I’ve found my place in it.”

“That’s so good to hear… I still feel a bit out of place, most of my friends survived the blip and are just in completely different places in their lives than I am. We still talk but I don’t think it’ll ever be the same…” You pulled your blanket tighter around yourself, snuggling deeper into your nest and shaking off the negative thoughts clouding your mind. “So, tell me more about Sam, what makes him so fun to mess with?”

Bucky can’t help but laugh, “Literally everything. He’s so dramatic and it’s way too easy to push his buttons. Just the other day, we were training and he was working on throwing his shie---umm I mean this new sort of weapon and I mayyyy have been telling him the wrong thing just so it would knock him on his ass. Laughed about that for days.”

You found yourself laughing right along with him, eventually ending with a sweet sigh. “What I wouldn’t give to see you smile...”

Bucky stops laughing abruptly and you immediately know you’re the cause of the sudden tension between you. Unlike previous times however you resolve not to cave or opt for the awkward smooth-over. Time to face your fears, Y/N.

“Bucky, part of me desperately wants to apologize for saying that but honestly, the rest of me isn’t sorry at all. I really do want you to be totally comfortable with me and I know I promised not to push you but… I need you to know that seeing you, eventually touching and being with you is something I genuinely want. I mean how could I not want that with the man that I lo--” the words stuck in your throat as you caught yourself, “...th-that I’m meant to be with? You’re my soulmate Bucky, you have to know what that means to me, to us.”

Bucky felt like he was torn in two, reluctant to admit that the thought of letting you all the way in was getting to be as stressful as keeping you out but then again he was the stubborn type. “It’s not just about you seeing me doll, it’s about what seeing me will mean, it’s about my whole life and all the crazy that it entails.”

“You know… you know you can be honest with me right? I can handle it, I promise. There is literally nothing that you could tell me that would drive me away from you, okay? Nothing.”

“How can you promise me that?. You can’t possibly mean it. You don’t know… you don’t know my whole story. It’s not a pretty one.” You can feel his walls going up but you can’t hold it in any longer. It’s now or never...

“What if…” you swallow nervously, “w-what if I told you I did know. That I know you better than you think I do...”

Your words flowed like ice through his veins. “What are you saying Y/N?”

“I-I started to put two and two together almost immediately, as soon as you told me your name. It’s not that common you know....” He’s so quiet you wonder if he has stopped breathing. Knowing there’s no turning back you continue, “And there were so many little things that kept adding up: that you were so reluctant to let me see you, how you told me you used to be military but now you work in security... that you live and train with Sam, Sam Wilson right? Or that time you were out of contact for a week and the story broke about the Falcon and the Winter Soldier taking down that terrorist cell? I know that was you Bucky, I’m not crazy.”

You took a deep breath, calming down a bit. “Did you really think your soulmate would be that clueless? That the person meant to be with you. a literal Avenger, wouldn't be able to figure it out? I’m not upset with you, I promise. It's not like you lied to me, everything you said was ‘technically’ the truth. But... the more I learned about you the more I confirmed my hunch and the more I felt like I was lying to you, and that just didn’t sit well with me.”

Silence was all you could hear on Bucky’s end but you knew he was still there. You gnawed at your lower lip worried that you had made a horrible mistake. “I wanted to come out and just tell you, so many times, but at the same time I had promised not to push you. I was waiting for you to be ready to tell me but I was also starting to worry that it was never going to happen. Bucky I’m so sorry, I--”

Bucky blurted out, “Why are you still here then?! You should have shut me out already. How could finding out not change how you felt about me? Y/N, I’m not just some guy with a military past and a job that takes me away for days, weeks, sometimes months at a time, that’s enough to put a strain on any relationship. But I’m also over a hundred years old, I deal with literal alien threats, and a-and I’ve killed so many people… those memories, the things they did to me, that part of my life is a literal hellhole, and it doesn’t go away, ever. It’s always with me… all those years without memories and now I’d give anything to forget…” You could hear his labored breathing, the anguish in his voice. Tears welled up in your eyes for him, ashamed that you’d hurt him but also desperate to be the one to comfort him. “Y/N I’m-- I’m sorry, I have to go. I need some space right now.”

“Wait Bucky, don’t---” and just like that the connection severs. Not completely thank goodness, you can still sense your bond deep down, but you feel as though a chasm has formed between the two of you.

“I’m not going anywhere Bucky… I love you...” you whisper into the silence, hoping somewhere, somehow that he can still hear you.

Part 6

Taggy tag tags: @bucky-plums-barnes @buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @sebspocketsquare @sgtbxckybxrnes @bionic-buckyb @plumfondler @imaginingbucky @sexonastickstan @angryschnauzer @witchymarvelspacecase @palaiasaurus64 @eyecandybarnes @promarvelfangirl @the-observant-fangirl @ballyhoobarnes @trinityjadec @kjs-s @sebbytrash @true-queen-of-mischief @buckthegrump @moondancewrites @thisisjamesbarnes @beccaanne814 @oneshot-shit @moonbeambucky @stevieang @tnupsweetpie @avenger-nerd-mom @eyesfixedonthesun22 @searchingforbucky @notimetoblog @sugarfreecapsicle @nomadicpixel @nacho-bucky @sarahwroteathing @captain-rogers-beard @buckys-darling @tilltheendwilliwrite @ifellinnthepit

@marie-is-in-the-dark @lorilane33 @igothroughphasesalot

#bucky barnes x reader #soulmate au #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan

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ivegotthefanficinme · 4 years

Text

Freedom Part 5 Mandalorian X Reader

Summary: An escaped slave owned by the Hutt clan, with the knowledge of dark clan secrets. A bounty is set and the best hunter in the parsec is hired, The Mandalorian. Two vastly different paths cross. Both are scarred physically and mentally by their past. Can they ever truly be free? *SLOW BURN*

Warnings: Blood, Mentions of slavery, PTSD, Rape implications, FLUFF, Language

Word Count: 1.5K

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (You are here), Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

You race down the ramp to the Mandalorian, tripping and partially sliding on your knees to get to him.

“Maker! Mando, what the hell happened?” You repeat, pressing your hands into his side to compress the wound.

“Not, the Maker,” he jests as his head lulls towards you, his helmet grating on the metal of the ramp.

“Not the time for jokes, come on, let’s get you up and inside before you end up as dead as your bounty,” you huff.

Your heart races, your head spinning at the amount of blood he had lost in just the amount of time you had been sitting there.

You get him to sit up as he groans in pain. Slipping his arm over your shoulder, it takes everything in you to push him up into a standing position.

His head rests on your shoulder and your arm around his waist, holding him against you, under any other circumstances you would have loved to be in this position.

He barely walks so you mostly drag him up the ramp and into the ship, gently laying him down onto the same cot that he had bandaged you up on when he had first taken you in.

“I need to look at this wound, Mando, this isn’t good,” you say, reaching for his shirt.

He grabs your wrist, stopping you. His grip is weak but enough to get your attention.

“Get the bounty in here and take off, now,” he breathes.

You shake your head, “You are going to bleed out!”

“Go! I can wait!” He lets go of your wrist, pushing you away at the waist. His touch on your hip light but still demanding.

“Fine, but I sware to Maker if you are dead when I get back…”

“Just go.”

You hand him a piece of cloth, “Put pressure on that, I’ll be right back.”

In a worried frenzy, you race back out of the ship and drag the grungy body of the bounty into the ship. Slamming your fist into the button to close the ramp, it starts to rise with a hiss.

“Are you still with me?” you ask as you pause by the Mandalorian sprawled out on the cot.

His chest rises and falls sporadically, “Still here…”

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to go start the auto-take off.” Your hand brushes against his as you leave his side once more.

You race up the ladder and plop down in his chair.

Fast as you can you start pressing buttons, flipping switches, pulling levers. Finally, with self-navigation on, you slowly press a lever forward turning the thrusters up to max, just as Mando had taught you, and the ship is off the ground.

Jumping from the chair, you slide down the ladder and are back at Mando’s side in seconds.

“Mando, you with me?” You ask, gathering the bandages and medical supplies you need.

There’s no response from the Mandalorian.

“Mando?” You take a good look at him noticing that his chest doesn’t rise and fall as it’s supposed too.

“Mando!” You drop the supplies on the cot, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach at the same time.

Your hands press to either side of his helmet, trying to see something, anything, behind the dark visor.

Tears start to blur in your eyes, the one person. The one person you had come to trust, and… dare you admit it to yourself, to love.

In a tear-filled frenzy, you strip away his cuirass. Pounding on his chest trying to get his heart to start again as yours practically beats out of your chest.

Several minutes pass by and you just continue to lose it.

You pound on his chest as hard as you can, screaming, “Damnit Mando, you fucking piece of scrap metal, wake up!”

You can’t lose him. Your mind trailing back to so many moments over the last few months.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” Your voice and your strength weaken as your body is overcome by sobs.

Your face rests on his chest as tears stream down your face. He is still warm as you take in his musky scent.

“You fucking bastard, don’t leave me!”

You sit there for a moment, your heart shattered in your chest. Suddenly, a low groan rumbles from his chest, barely caught in the modulator of his helmet.

His gloved hand comes to rest weakly on your cheek, “Never.”

“Oh thank the Maker!” You exclaim.

You lift your head from his chest, his hand still against your cheek. You set your hand over his as you press your cheek into his hand. His gloved thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“I thought I had lost you,” you breathe.

“No.”

“Then let me get you patched up.”

He barely nods as you set his hand back down on the cot.

You push his shirt up and you examine the gruesome gash along his side. Your hands trail over his sun-kissed skin, trying your best to soothe him.

You press your lips together, “I’m going to have to stitch it up before I hit it with bacta spray.”

“Do what you must…” Mando trails off.

“Do you want something for the pain? This is going to hurt.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright then,” you reply as you pull a sterile needle out of the medical supplies.

You quickly thread the needle and prepare for the first stitch at the lowest point of the gash.

“Um, Mando…”

“Yes?” He sighs.

“Your pants are in the way. I don’t have enough space for this first stitch with them there.”

“Then move them.”

Your cheeks heat up, a bright red blush creeping up your cheeks as you reach out and unbuckle his belt then gently push down one side of his pants until you have just enough space to work with.

You take your first stitch and he hisses in pain.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe as you take another.

“It’s okay…” you can hear the grit in his words.

As you continue you hit a particularly tender spot and he exclaims, “Fuck, Y/N! Watch where you stick that thing!”

“I’ve only stuck you in the places I needed too,” you hold back your laughter.

A few minutes later you have finished stitching up the wound. You spray on the bacta and gently bandage up his side.

“All done,” you sigh as you rise to your feet. You turn to put away your supplies but a hand grabs yours.

“Don’t leave…” Mando whispers.

You turn back to him, smiling softly down at him.

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Mando you are just saying that because you have lost too much blood. You are delirious.”

He pulls you down onto the cot next to him.

“Mando…” you trail off as his hand slides along your thigh, you shift uncomfortably as you watch it.

“Do you remember…. Remember when you first decided to stay… actually the first time I saw you…” he says breathlessly.

You nod, picking up his hand from your thigh and holding it in your own. “I remember both of those moments quite vividly…”

“I haven’t been able to get those images out of my head,” Mando sighs.

You look over at him, his expressionless helmet gleaming.

“Mando, you don’t need to tell me any of this… why? Why tell me?”

“Because you look so beautiful,” his hand clasps yours weakly.

“Did you hit your head or something?” You reach out, setting a hand against the dark fabric that covers his neck.

“Fuck! Mando, what the hell?” You exclaim when you pull your hand away, soaked in blood. “No wonder you’ve almost fucking bled out!”

“Hmmm?” He asks, “Whatisit?” His words start to run together.

You stand and lift his head, examining the helmet. You find a large dent near the top. “Mando…. Oh maker what am I going to do?”

He looks up at you, his head still resting in your hands.

“You have a bad head injury…”

“Again?” He lulls, “I just had one on Navaro.”

“How am I supposed to fix this? I can’t take off your helmet and this isn’t one you can fix yourself? What did you do last time?”

“A droid,” he clips.

“Well that doesn’t help me, you could die if I don’t look at this,” you sigh.

“Just take off the helmet,” Mando says.

“No! Do you even know what you are saying?”

“Take it off.”

“Mando, as much as I want to help you, I can’t let you break your creed when you are delirious from blood loss!”

“Y/N….” he growls.

“There has to be some other way… Some way that means you won’t have broken your creed.”

“Just. Take. It. Off.”

“I will not!”

“Take off my fucking helmet, Y/N!”

“You stubborn ass, no!”

“Fine, I’ll do it!”

He reaches up and grabs the helmet, pulling it off with a hiss of air.

Tags:

@lokilover-39 @fleurdemiel145 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @just-a-casual-fangirl-011 @70sgubler @pascalisthepunkest

Just comment if you want to be added to the tag list! Let me know what you think! I have big plans for this fic *grins evilly*.

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fabuloustrash05 · 4 years

Text

Scars

(A Raphael x Mona Lisa oneshot)

Summary: After fighting some Purple Dragons, Mona Lisa returns an injured Raphael to the lair to heal his wounds. The couple soon gets to talking about their views, stories, and regrets on their own battle scars.

Words: 1909

Warnings: Swearing, discussion of injuries, and mention of trauma.

Author’s Note: I wrote this and published it on my Wattpad not that long ago, but I wanted to post it here too for the ones who don’t have a Wattpad :D I got more oneshot ideas I really want to write but right now, I’m gonna focus on Courting a Salamandrian. The next two chapters are looking great, I’m on schedule and I’m hoping chapter 5 will be ready hopefully in March or April. Anyways, enjoy!! XD

~~~~~

"OWW! SON OF A BITCH!"

"I know it hurts but please be still," Mona says as she tends to Raphael’s wounds. "It's going to get infected if you don't let me properly clean it."

Raphael has always been known as the type to throw the first punch, living by the phrase, 'Fight first, ask questions later'. But this time it really backfired for him. He didn't expect the Purple Dragons to actually be a threat, but they have gotten tougher, recruited some new members that were bigger and stronger than him. A mission he and Mona thought would be quick and easy, turned out to be harder than the couple expected. Raph almost didn't make it out of there, but thankfully, Mona Lisa had his back. With her help, they were able to take a few Purple Dragons down and send them to jail while the others, to Raph's disappointment, got away.

Raphael was injured after that fight, covered in bruises and cuts. He was bleeding badly. He wanted to go after the criminals that got away, but Mona insisted that she should take him back to the lair, return him to his room to patch up his wounds before they got worse.

Raphael was already covered in bandages, thanks to Mona, with her knowledge of medical care from her time in the military. There was a large patch on Raphael's right cheek, bandages wrapped around his stomach and chest, and a few bandages and stitches on his legs and left arm. There was one final cut Mona had to tend to. A large and deep cut on his right arm.

Mona pulls out a bottle of alcohol and opens it. She gently pours a bit of it onto a small cloth, "I need to clean up this final one so this is going to sting again." Gently, she begins to place the cloth on Raphael's arm.

Raphael bites his lip, holding back his screams as his arm begins to burn from the alcohol on his open wound.

"I'm sorry," Mona says softly.

"Don't be," Raph says, grinding his teeth. "I've felt worse."

Mona begins wiping the wound. She looks at Raph, seeing him in distress. "You were brave out there today," she said, trying to cheer up her boyfriend.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, right. You're just saying that. I got my shell kicked today!"

"No, no. I mean it," she said, releasing the cloth from his arm. She grabbed some bandages from the first aid kit and continued by saying, "You fought with courage and stayed strong throughout the whole fight, like you always do." Mona smiles as she gives Raph a quick kiss on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, "and you looked so handsome the entire time."

Raph smiles, finally giving in to her complement, "Thanks, but you were great today, too. If it wasn't for you, I would have been a goner."

She smiles at him, flattered by his gratitude. Mona began to wrap up the injuries, "These cuts were deep," she said. "You're lucky that this is all they did to you. You'll be fine. They'll all heal in a few weeks, but this one will possibly leave a scar."

Raph shrugs, "I don't mind."

"How can you not mind?" she asked. "It’s going to be a permanent mark on your body."

"I just don't really see it as a bad thing." Raph answered, "My dad always told us that scars are helpful because they help you learn from your mistakes. Help you improve in the future or something like that."

"Hmm, that's not what I was taught," Mona says as she finishes wrapping Raph's arm. "On my planet, scars are seen as punishments for your mistakes and failures, not lessons. The more you have the more dishonor you bring to your name."

Raphael looks at his girlfriend as she continued, "Yes, scars can help you learn but they're just rewards for your foolish mistakes."

Raph leans in to Mona, with their noses so close to touching. Raph smirks, "Are you saying what I did today was foolish?" he teased.

"Hmmm, maybe," she giggles.

Raph laughs.

"Well, if you don't mind me saying, that's kind of a depressing way to see it," he added.

Mona looks at Raphael confused.

"You know Mona," Raph says as he leans away from her, "scars don't have to be viewed in a negative light, I think they’re pretty cool."

"Pretty cool, how?"

"They can tell stories," Raph said as he smirked at Mona. "Besides, I think another scar just makes me look more badass."

She giggles, "I guess that's one way to look at it." Mona then examines Raph's shell with curiosity. She places her finger on the chip in Raphael's plastron. "What about that one?" she asked. "What's the story behind that one?"

Raph touches the chip in his shell, "Oh, that one. Nothing serious. I got it when I was still a baby. I don't really remember it vividly, though. Splinter said that it was from my reckless attitude as a kid. Apparently I fell down some stairs and the fall was so hard it cracked my shell... but for some reason I also remember something about a shopping cart..."

"It never bothers you?" she asked

"Not really," Raph answered "I mean, when I was a kid I was annoyed because my brothers used to tease me about it from time to time, but after a while I got over it and grew to love my scar. They’re a part of me. They make me who I am."

"Interesting. I would never be so positive about my scars."

"You have scars?" Raph asked surprised as he examined her body, not seeing a single mark on her.

"Yes, from my time in the military."

"How many?"

"Umm, I have... a few, but I'm not proud of any of them."

"It's okay, Mona." Raph says trying to cheer her up, "You don't have to look at them so negatively."

Mona sadly smiles, "Thank you, Raphael. But you are mistaken."

"Come on, there's nothing to feel bad about- Wait. W-what are you doing?!" Raph nearly falls off his bed from the sight of when he looks at Mona and realizes that she is beginning to lift up her shirt. Embarrassed to see her topless, Raph covers his eyes.

Mona turns her back to Raphael, exposing her bare skin. Raphael uncovers his eyes. To his surprise, the lieutenant's back was covered in multiple scars and battle marks, all of different shapes and sizes. Each one looks worse and more painful than the last. Raph's eyes widened in surprise.

"Each one is a memory from my time on the battlefield. They are all of my past mistakes, the painful reminders of my past," Mona says looking away from Raph.

"Oh my God..."

Raph gently places his hand on her back, feeling the scars in his palm. He couldn't imagine what she has been through, the torture and trauma from being at war. Raph couldn't control himself, and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"Mona, I'm so sorry..." Raph said in a heartbroken voice. He examined her scars, each one hurting him by just looking at them, but one stood out from the rest. The scar that was on her lower back, right above her tail. It was dark and he could tell that whatever it was stabbed deep into her body. It even looked like at one point it was infected.

Raph gently rubs the injury, "W-what happened here?" he asked, unsure if he really wants to know the truth.

From where Raphael's hand was resting, Mona could tell which scar he was referring to. She stayed silent as her eyes began to water, refusing to look at Raphael.

That's when Raph realizes what the scar was from, or who it was from. Lord Dregg. The scopinoid stung her when she was trying to help Raph and his brothers escape from Lord Dregg's planet. The poison from the sting infected her, nearly killed her. Fugitoid was able to stop the poison from spreading, but he never told Raph that the injury resulted in this horrific scar.

"Mona... I-"

"You say I don't have to look at my scars negatively, but that's all I can do with them, especially with that one!" Mona says angrily as she puts back on her shirt and turns to Raph. "It's an external reminder of what I did to you! It is my punishment for the worst mistake of my life!" Tears began to run down Mona's cheeks.

"Mona, it wasn't your fault," Raph said trying to comfort her, "It was Dregg. He blackmailed you, forced you to do those things. You had no choice."

"But I still hurt you and your family!" she says as she continues to cry. "I-I was horrible to you... This is my punishment. I deserve this pain..."

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT!" Raph screamed as he grabbed her arms and looked her in the eyes. He began to cry, "I never want you to think you deserve punishment for something you had no control over! It kills me to know that you feel like you deserve to be hurt! If anyone should feel horrible, it's me! I let my anger get the better of me and if I had just forgiven you when you apologized then you wouldn't have gone off to fight Dregg. I should have been by your side to protect you. It's my fault... I should've been there..." Raph rests his head on Mona's chest as he continues to cry, "I-I was the one who gave you that scar..."

"Raphael... please don't say that..." Mona then hugged Raphael as she comforted him. They embraced as they cried.

The couple stayed silent for a few minutes as they continued to embrace, feeling safe and at peace in each others’ arms.

"I guess we both did things we regret, huh?" Mona Lisa whispered, still holding Raphael.

"Yeah... we did," Raph whispered back. "But look at us now. We made it through a lot and were still together."

The couple end their hug and look at each other. Their eyes are swollen and red. Sore. But those eyes gaze at each other lovingly. Smiling, they wipe their eyes.

Mona places her hand on her lower back, touching the scar, "Maybe it can have a different meaning?" she suggests.

Raphael takes both her hands and holds them in his. "The scar can be proof that no matter what life throws at us, in the end we will still be together. Our care, trust, and love for each other is strong."

"Proof that our love is strong," she smiles as Raph nods, "I like that."

At that moment, Raphael and Mona Lisa leaned toward each other and joined in a soft, tender kiss.

They both knew they'd made mistakes from the past. Mistakes that cannot be changed, but they know their past actions do not have to define them. They've learned from those mistakes. They would make sure not to repeat them.

As the kiss ends, Raph looks at his girlfriend lovingly as he caresses her cheek. "I promise I will never let anyone hurt you ever again," he whispers.

Mona smiles as she gently holds his hand that lays on her cheek and whispers, "As do I."

"I love you, Mona Lisa."

"I love you, too, Raphael."

#my fanfic #oneshot #oneshot fic #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt oneshot #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt raphael #tmnt mona lisa #y’gythgba #tmnt ramona #raphael x mona lisa #raphmona #ramona #lord dregg #the evil of dregg #angst

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rizlowwritessortof · 4 years

Text

Maybe I’m Amazed

This fic is for @rockhoochie ‘s Love Supernatural Style 1K Followers Writing Challenge - congratulations!! This went a whole different direction than I was expecting - hope y’all enjoy it! My song was Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney and Wings.

Pairing: Dean and unnamed female OC

Word count: 3200

Warnings: Nothing but some angst and fluffy angsty shit, my usual, (except no smut this time)

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Oh, God… Baby, please… Please...”

She could hear him calling her name, the desperation obvious in his voice, but the sound was muffled, far away, as if she were under water. It was dark, so dark… Where in the hell was she? She tried to speak, but no sound came out, and before the fear that was beginning to bloom could fully emerge, it all faded away…

~~~~~

She ducked, swinging upwards with the fireplace poker in her hand, temporarily disintegrating the spirit clawing at her shoulder. Dean was doing the same in another part of the room, the sounds of his battle joining with hers. “Come on, Sammy, we can only do this for so long!” he half-shouted, then landed on his back with a grunt of pain.

Firing a salt round behind her, she sprinted to the other side of the room and took a swing at the ghost that currently had its gnarled hands wrapped around Dean’s throat. “Fuck off!” she swore as it dissolved into a cloud of dusty smoke, and Dean climbed to his feet, his eyes searching for the next threat.

“Thanks.” His eyes widened as she was lifted from the ground, pulled backwards by an apparition that had materialized yet again, and she cried out in agony as its jagged claws pierced her shoulder. The creature slammed her against the wall, and she slid to the floor, half-conscious as it approached her for the kill.

Dean fired his sawed-off, scrambling to reach her, but as the vengeful spirit sank its claws into her again, a horrifying shriek filled the room. The spirits all became visible, glowing red and then turning to ash before disappearing before their eyes. She groaned, rolling to her side and slowly sitting up, looking up at Dean with a grimace of pain. “Ow. That sucked.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he reached to help her to her feet. “You okay? Let me see that shoulder.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“Let me see.” She sighed with a rueful smile, and stood, compliant, as he pulled her shirt to the side. “Can I?” he asked, reaching for the buttons. She nodded, her face warming as his fingers worked at the top two buttons of her shirt, then pulled it to the side to expose her shoulder. “Damn it. Might need a couple of stitches.” He looked down at her, and his brows drew together in concern. “You need to sit down? You look a little...”

“I’m okay. Just – adrenaline, you know? I’m all… wound up.”

His eyebrows raised, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah? Well, sometimes when a hunt gets a little crazy...”

“Tension kind of builds up.” She looked at the floor. “Yep.”

“Sometimes the best thing to do is – ah – release the pressure.” His hand was still touching her skin, and he was closer now.

“Hmmm.”

“I could handle blowing off a little steam, too. You – uh...” Before he could finish, she threw her good arm around his neck and kissed him, both of them grunting as they lost balance and she bumped into the wall behind her. He pressed the full length of his body against hers, lips sealed in a searing kiss as his hand drifted down to her breast.

“Hey, guys,” Sam’s amused voice startled them apart, and Dean turned his back, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled as his brother laughed softly.

“Well, you’re obviously not dead.”

“No, but keep it up and you might be,” Dean muttered, and she couldn’t help but smile a little. He turned back towards her, one eyebrow cocked. “To be continued.”

~~~~~

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time

Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you

She smiled, listening silently as Dean sang, just a little off-key, with Paul McCartney. His voice cracked a little as he sang the last line, and her smile faded. “Dean?” He turned slowly, his face the picture of barely contained anguish. “Dean – what’s wrong?” His face seemed to move farther and farther away, slowly vanishing…

~~~~~

She walked, almost ran, until her legs burned, her vision blurred with her tears. “You don’t belong here!” he had shouted at her, “Why don’t you just go back home! Before you get yourself killed!” And then he had turned around and walked away from her, Sam staring after him with his mouth gaping, speechless at the force of Dean’s anger. Before he could even move, she had run up the metal stairs and out the door, not even bothering to close it behind her.

They had been eradicating a wolf pack, business as usual. When a straggler came home, finding the rest of his pack slaughtered, he had gone straight for her, pinning her to her back and going for her throat. Her pistol had been pinned beneath him, but she forced the barrel upwards as much as she could manage and fired, praying it would blow him back enough to keep his fangs from sinking into her flesh.

The monster had yelped as the silver burned into his gut, the heat from the shot searing her skin, but at least she hadn’t been bitten. Sam had appeared above her, lifting the yowling werewolf and tossing him to the floor, where Dean had fired four, five more shots into its chest.

“Did he bite you?” Sam had asked, frantic, and she was shaking her head as he pulled her to her feet. She had looked towards Dean, who had closed his eyes in relief, then opened them and stared at her, his jaw clenching, before turning his back and stalking out the door, slamming it behind him.

Sam had glanced her way, the confusion on his face mirroring her own. Dean had come back in, gas can in hand, snapping at them as he began dumping fuel over the bodies. “Come on, let’s get this shit cleaned up and get the fuck outta here.”

No one had spoken on the drive home, the air humming with tension. She had sat in the back seat, nervously picking at her fingers, afraid to even look up and meet Dean’s eyes in the rear view mirror. She had never seen him this angry, the muscles in his neck taut, his hands in a death grip on the steering wheel. She had mentally reviewed every step she’d taken, every move she’d made, trying without success to pinpoint what had set him off. Sam, for once, hadn’t even attempted to talk him down, and that, in itself, was frightening. And when they had reached the bunker, they had barely gotten out of the car before he had turned on her, furious, leaving her shaking and destroyed.

She stumbled blindly through the shallow ditch, dropping down beneath the nearest tree. She had no idea how long she’d been walking, how far she’d gone. She wrapped her arms around her knees, the damp cold of the autumn day beginning to steal the heat she had built up from her headlong flight from the bunker. Maybe she should call Sam, ask for his help. Or maybe she should just stay here. Because where was she going to go?

She heard, almost felt the rumble of the Impala’s engine before she saw the lights shining from some distance away. A flashlight shone out the driver’s side window, scanning the side of the road, searching for her. Sam must have come looking. At least she’d be saved the humiliation of a phone call.

The car was only about a quarter of a mile away when she heard Dean’s voice calling her name. He had actually come after her, she was shocked. She was shivering steadily now, cold to the bone, forcing herself to her feet as the Impala drew near. His flashlight beam drifted closer, passed over her and then came back to hold steady until the engine cut off and the door opened with its usual creak.

He was pulling his coat off as he climbed out of the car, meeting her halfway and draping the already warm jacket over her shoulders. He didn’t say a word, just ushered her to the passenger side door and helped her in, then circled back around, his face drawn and pale in the wash of the headlights. “Dean...” she began, but he held up a hand, stopping her, and she bit down on her lip almost hard enough to break the skin, afraid of what was coming.

“We have to get you warmed up.” He cranked the heater fan to high, and she stole a glance, her head hanging low. He was just sitting there, hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead. He took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice soft and subdued. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I’m such an asshole. I was… I was so fucking scared when that wolf took you down, I didn’t think you had a chance, it happened so fast. I thought you were gone. I thought we lost you. And then, when you were okay… all that fear just turned into – I was so pissed. Only not at you. At myself.”

She looked up in confusion. “Dean, it wasn’t your fault.” He turned to meet her gaze, his eyes full of guilt.

“The wolf – that wasn’t anybody’s fault. Definitely wasn’t yours. I was just so fucking mad because I tried so damn hard not to feel the way I feel about you.” She stared back at him, eyes wide and filling with tears, and he resisted the urge to look away, his expression almost pleading. “I know the last thing you wanna hear from me is how much I care about you, after I practically chased you away. Sam went looking for you right away, but he headed the wrong way, drove all the way to town before he gave up and came back. Then I took this way, hoping like hell that you were okay. I...”

She let her tears overflow, moving across the seat and silencing him with her lips on his. When she pulled back, he opened his eyes slowly, taking her face in his hands and kissing her again. “Dean...” she whispered, and he brushed her tears away with his thumbs.

“Let’s get you home.”

~~~~~

“Why are you arguing with me about this, Sam?!”

“I’m just worried about you, Dean. You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you won’t leave long enough to...”

“I told you, I’m not leaving her.”

“They’ll call us if anything changes.”

“I’m gonna be here when she wakes up.”

A muffled, tinny voice sounded over the PA system, interrupting Sam’s futile argument. “Dean Winchester, you have a phone call at the nurse’s station. Dean Winchester...”

~~~~~

“Dean Winchester!! You are in deep shit, mister!” She was drenched, hair dripping in her face, shirt clinging to her body, rivulets of soapy water trickling down her back and between her breasts, soaking slowly into her jeans.

Dean was holding his belly with one hand, hooting with laughter, almost unable to stand upright. “Oh, honey, you look like a drowned kitten,” he choked out, dropping his now-empty weapon of the moment. The five-gallon bucket clattered to the ground as he tried to calm himself and catch his breath.

“I’m going to kill you.” Sounded like she meant it.

His face twitched with the struggle to stifle his laughter. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t stop myself.”

“Bullets or fire? Or I could just beat you to death. Your choice.” She wasn’t really mad – not any more. But he really owed her some groveling, at the very least.

He approached her slowly – very slowly - his hands out, palms up in supplication. “I really am sorry. I’ll help you get cleaned up. Dried off. Y’know, whatever you need, sweetheart.” His puppy eyes were on full power as he struggled to control the suppressed mirth playing on his lips.

“You know, I was going to use that water to wash the Impala.”

“I know. I don’t deserve you.’

“Damn straight you don’t.”

“Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes.” He reached out, extending a careful hand, but instead of coming with him, she jerked him closer and jumped up into his arms, pressing her soaking body against him and sharing the wealth. Now it was her turn to smile.

“Hmmm. Looks like I’m not the only one who needs dry clothes.”

“Nice.” He stared into her sparkling eyes, his smile slowly fading as he touched his lips to hers, melting into her as she responded. She drew back a little, brushing her nose against his, looking into his eyes.

“Maybe I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time,” she sang softly, and he kissed her again, dry clothes forgotten.

~~~~~

“Maybe I’m amazed at the way you help me sing my song, right me when I’m wrong...” Paul McCartney sang softly, background to Sam and Dean’s voices.

“Dean, I’ll stay with her every second. I promise. Just go grab a shower and an hour or two, at least.”

He let out an exhausted sigh. “Okay, Sam. You win. Two hours, no more. You’d better wake me up.”

“I promise, Dean. She’s gonna be okay.”

“She’d better be.”

She walked into the library, following the voices. Where were they? She was almost to the kitchen when Sam walked into the room. “Sam? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Dean just needs to get some rest. He’s exhausted.”

“I keep telling him he’s got to take better care of himself! He always worries about everyone else...”

“He’ll be okay. I’m here. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

She looked at him, confused. “Ooookay...”

He sat down at the table, a book in his hands. “I thought maybe I’d read to you for a while. I know you were in the middle of this one...”

“Sam? What’s going on?” Sam completely ignored her, beginning to read, one hand on the opposite page, his voice fading slowly along with the room around her.

~~~~~

“Lord of the Rings? Or Harry Potter?”

“Duh. Both!”

“Okay.” He looked up at her from beneath bunched brows, his expression grave. “Twilight?”

She made a gagging noise. “God, no!!”

“Good. That was a test.” Sam was grinning now, and she laughed.

“Cute, Sam. Cute.”

“Sorry, but you had to pass the test before I let you help with the Men of Letters library.”

“Well, I’m glad I lived up to the challenge. So, what are we doing?”

“Updating the card catalogs, for one. My goal, someday, is to have the books all listed on a database, find what we need without going through 15 shelves.”

“That would be sweet.”

“I know, right?” Sam’s voice echoed weirdly at his last word, and she squeezed her eyes closed as darkness closed in again.

~~~~~

“Mr. Winchester, we’ve done all we can. The surgery repaired the internal bleeding, and the swelling in her brain has gone down. It’s up to her now. She will either wake up on her own, or...”

“She’ll wake up.” Dean’s voice was rough with exhaustion, and with absolute conviction.

“I just want you to be prepared...”

“Thanks, doc, but I know her. She’s a fighter, she always has been. She won’t quit on me. She’ll wake up.”

The door closed softly. Weary footsteps, and then the bed shifted a little as he leaned on it, his hand closing around hers, his head on the pillow beside hers.

“I need you to wake up, sweetheart. Sam needs you to wake up. I mean, my bad-ass girl is not going out like this, from a fucking drunk driver? No way. You’ve killed monsters. You’ve fought beside me and Sam and never once quit. No way this stops you.” His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped for a moment, his voice wavering a little as he continued. “And I need you, damn it. That damn song you listen to all the time... You know the part where it says ‘maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you?’ Yeah, well, I used to be. I used to be scared to death of how I feel about you, but no more. I love you, and I fucking need you, and you have to come back home. Please.” He buried his face in her pillow, squeezing her hand.

It was more of a whisper than singing, but he heard it. “Maybe I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time.” Dean raised his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears at the sight of her eyes, open and looking back at him. “So thirsty.”

“Holy shit…. I’ll get you some water, and the doctor, hang on, baby, I’ll be right back,” he blurted out in one long breath, rushing to the door and calling out. “Nurse! Doctor, somebody, she’s awake!” He left the door ajar and came back to grab the ice water they had kept filled for her just in case, helping her take a few swallows before the medical team barged in.

A couple of days later she was on her way home, seated between the boys in the front seat of the Impala, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She was tucked into Dean’s side, head on his shoulder, the two boys were joking and talking and laughing and it was wonderful.

She stood in the library after they got inside, basking in the smell of books and coffee and maybe a little whiskey. Home. She yawned widely, and Sam grinned, coming over to give her a gentle hug. “Welcome home. And I gotta say, I’m not gonna miss that damn song playing 24/7. Dean had it on all the time for you at the hospital.”

“I heard it. I heard pieces of things the whole time, but then I’d – sleep, or pass out, or whatever and dream, almost like reliving memories. It all got kind of mixed up in my head, I guess.”

Sam stepped back and Dean took his place, hugging her close and kissing the top of her head. “I think we should get you to bed. And me. Damn, it’s gonna be good to be in my own bed tonight, and have you there with me.” He leaned back and bent down to kiss her, soft and lingering, then rested his forehead against hers. “Just one time for me, okay?”

She smiled, her eyes stinging a little at the love shining in his, and sang quietly. “Maybe I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time…” His smile made her breath catch in her throat, and then he was leading her from the room.

As they passed Sam’s door, he shot her a wicked grin and belted out part of the song at the top of his lungs, off-key and full of the pure joy of torturing his brother. “Maybe I’m a man, maybe I’m a lonely man who’s in the middle of something that he doesn’t really understand...”

“DEAN!”

“G’night, Sam!” she called out behind her, Dean laughing as they continued down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tags for my babes:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @aprofoundbondwithdean @mamapeterson @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ackeviddlestan @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @lovin-ackles @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean @savingapplepie-eatingthings @angelofwinchester17 @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67 @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirst @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @hamartiamacguffin @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @kathaswings @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

#maybe i'm amazed #rockhoochies1K #rockhoochie #dean fic #dean angst #dean fluff #mine #rockhoochies 1k love supernatural style writing challenge

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chaospenelope · 5 years

Text

The Unbeaten Path

The Flowers that Grow in Darkness

Freddy took a deep breath and took off his hat to unsuccessfully slick back his fur. It seemed like every day there was a new feud that needed mediation. It didn't help that Chica's first solution to most problems was to throw someone at it.

He glanced back at Faye, who was dangling helplessly as Chica and Penny untangled his lower half. A dazed Jovi was propped against the far wall getting looked over by Billy and Philip had his arms crossed in the corner, still holding back a snicker.

He put his hat on and started to head for the elevator. The animatronic just felt really drained at the moment. He needed to get away. He paused as he reached the gallery exit. He heard a strange noise on the other side of the vent. He got on his hands and knees in an attempt to hear better.

'Is that a mouse?' It seemed to be an echo of something chewing. Unfortunately even with his optic lights he could not see the source. He moved to push himself in the opening only to remember his shoulders were too wide as they clanged against the metal. Standing up he figured getting into the control room might give him a better view. Since a lot of the floor had been opened to allow excess to all animatronics this was a bit simpler than it used to be, since the vent that connected the elevator to the control room was gutted. It was now a steep ramp leading to a makeshift door.

The sound was much louder now, the vermin was most certainly in this room. Hopefully could catch the critter before Philip sees it, kills it, Chelsea sees that, gets upset and- well, there's just so many ways it could go bad. He really didn't want to deal with that. He was careful not to make a sound as he opened the door. However, he was caught off guard by what was actually chewing.

Sitting on a table curled up and facing the wall was the original Foxy the Pirate Fox. The animatronic was hard at work and had not noticed the tall shadow that loomed over him.

"Kit? What are you doing?" He drew closer to see what his 'closest friend' was nibbling on.

The fox's ears perked up as he heard his voice. His tail even wagged as he turned to look at him. His gold tooth glinting in the light as he smiled. Freddy would have smiled back if he hadn't noticed the half bitten piece of rope tied around his wrist and a pipe connected to the wall.

"Who tied you to the wall?" He asked, concerned and restraining his anger.

"Hmmm" Kit stopped to think for a moment. "That, that wee Bonnie with the needle fingers." He wiggled his fingers as he said that.

"Plushy tied you up? Why?" He moved to free him, but Kit had already managed to break from it.

"Aye, that be the one!" He stood up and rubbed his wrist a bit. "They didn't want me ta go out alone I think. I almost got away but by Poseidon's beard are they a fast one! I've been bested, I have ta turn in me running shoes." He chuckled to himself.

Freddy showed a brief hint of amusement, but it was over shadowed by his serious grumble. "I'll have to talk with them later."

"So," He looked around to make sure no one else was listening. "Have ye thought about...The day?"

"Yeah, I haven't actually...Sorry." He looked down, dejected.

"Ey..." Kit tilted his head as he got a look at his bear's face. "Ya feelin' alright mate?" He put his good, non hook hand on his cheek. "If ye don't want to talk about it-"

"Oh, I'm fine." He rested his face against the metal palm. He gave him a reassuring smile but the fox's sharp eyes could see he was tired.

"Aye...Then, maybe ya wouldn't mind takin a walk with me?" His sad, puppy eyes were not something he could ever say no to.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

There was a loud crash coming from the breaker room. "What the D-"

"That's just Faye again. C'mon."

The elevator was currently out of order, again. A common occurrence at the moment. They'd have to take the ladder up. Freddy out of thoughtless instinct wrapped his arm around the slightly smaller animatronic and started to climb up.

"Ah," Kit didn't mind being carried of course. He did wonder, however, why exactly Freddy did this. Was he possibly reading his mind? He never actually told him he enjoyed it. Maybe he was just worried he'd get his hook caught? His tongue stuck out as he watched the busted elevator get further and further away, his tail and other limbs dangling high above it.

The wall slid open as they approached the motion sensor. He gently placed him on the old faded carpet. Parts of the floor shined like it was on fire as the last rays of the day died behind the wall of trees. Most of the house was quiet, everyone was underground except them and one other.

In the living room sat a possessed mess of stitches, the rabbit Plushtrap was humming as they sewed something. As soon as they noticed the two they jumped on their project, covering up what they could with a nearby blanket and their own body. "What are you doing up here!? What did you eat through like a rat?"

"Aye, I did!" He stated proudly.

"Plushy, you can't force Kit or anyone else to stay down there just because you didn't want him going outside. I know you mean well but it's ultimately his choice. You don't have to keep fixing him if it bothers you so much."

"Well, yeah, I guess I understand....But, That's not really why...I really didn't want him to ruin his surprise. I couldn't let him go up in the house til I was done." They said, still sprawled over the pile.

"Surprise? Be it Treasure?" The Pirate's tail lightly thudded against the ground. "Can I see it?"

"No! Not until it's done!" They bit at his hand as he started to reach for the heap of cloth.

"The next time you tell me and I'll help you."

Their eyes shifted suspiciously. "...I was gonna, but you were busy so I took care of it myself...Though I guess it didn't work out as well as I'd hoped, so you can help now and get him out of here until sunrise."

Freddy sighed. His voice stern. "Well, Since Kit isn't hurt we'll just forget it happened, but don't do it again. I don't care if you're throwing a surprise party you don't tie people up or put them in a dungeon."

"What about a broom closet?"

"Plushy!"

"Okay, okay fine! Now will you please get him out of here?"

"Aye, Let's!" He pulled himself on Freddy's shoulders, showing his fanged smile again. The bear smiled back this time. Then he let go and ran out the door. "Adventure awaits!"

"I thought we were just going on a walk." He said to himself and followed.

The ground sunk slightly under their weight. Air was crisp and a little quiet. Unseen critters scurried around them as they walked into the growing darkness.

"It's strange," Freddy paused as he looked at the natural leafy canopy above. "After all these years and attempts to escape. We just walked out here without a second thought. Just, left through the front door."

Kit nodded. He stopped so he could stay next to him, holding onto the other's paw. "There were many a days spent tryin to see the outside of the old place...You, remember the time Bonnie and I tried to pick the lock on the door?"

"Yeah, more specifically the part where Chica wanted to throw an arcade cabinet through the glass, while you two were still standing there."

"Well can't blame her enthusiasm. We'd been promised so many times."

"Yeah...Henry never was good at keeping promises." He muttered. "Not for our sake."

"Charlie was. She always came after school ta say hi, even after her friends took up most of her time." They started walking again, Kit looking in every direction noise seemed to permeate from.

Freddy resisted the urge to scoff. They didn't deserve the term 'friends' not after what they helped accomplish. "Charlie was such a great sister. She taught us how to draw, gave us the prizes she won to keep it safe for her, and sang with us."

The pirate chuckled. "Aye, At first ye started storin them in yer torso and the sticky hand clogged yer innards. It took hours to get out. We thought you were a goner. If we could cry back them we would've."

"Yeah, poor Charlie took the blame...You guys really thought a sticky splat hand was going to kill me?"

"It was the first time any of us broke down." He explained with a shrug. "It was worse because it was you. Being you were the voice of reason. Remember how much of a mess we were then?"

"It's hard to believe were the same people but I do. We used to talk about what we'd do when the restaurant was closed. We were going to get jobs and get an apartment until we had enough money to travel the world." He gave a wanting sigh, kicking at the weed that grew in the middle of the path defiantly. "I knew we couldn't do that as we are even back then but I had this secret fantasy that Henry would make us human bodies."

"Hmmm. What did ye think we'd look like?" The fox rested his hook on his chin as he thought ears twitching. "Ye think I'd be a handsome human? Fast with strong muscles and a skull Tatoo on me back."

"To me you would be handsome." He smirked. He closed his eyes as his fox poked his nose emitting the small squeak.

"You'd say that even if I was a scrawny land lubber weenie, wouldn't ye?"

"Mmm. Yes, cuz no matter how much spinach you eat you're still my Kitty."

He huffed in faux annoyance. "Yea, and you'll be me Snuggly Care Bear."

The larger animatronic nodded, feeling a little jolt of electricity as he heard that old pet name. It's been so many years since he called him that. Of course they were out of commission for a good half of those years but he felt it in his phantom heart, his wired vessels, his steel bones. Hearing it seemed to erase those eroding years.

As they continued walking the fox finally noticed something odd to him. He had been looking around trying to figure out what it was and it suddenly hit him. "Wonder what happened to the flowers?" Kit asked as he eyed a once flourishing wild flower patch. "I swear on me Mum there were millions around here."

"It is getting cooler. Maybe they wilted last night?" The brown robot smirked. "Wait, 'Mum'? Kitty is your Captain Morgan returning to us?"

"Errr, No. It slips in sometimes...Not me fault." He pretended to pout until his boyfriend gave him a playful smooch.

"I know, It's the old program still trying to kick in." He then patted him gently. "We really need Lolbit to check that out Kitty."

"I'm fine really, it isn't affectin me movements like it used to." He stopped and let go of his paw. "They did a great a job ye see?" He ran in place for a bit and stood perfectly still. "No twitchin or lockin up!"

His spectator leaned against the tree with crossed arms. "It doesn't mean it won't return. It's basically a virus, remember?"

"Freddy. I'm fine." He insisted sternly. "I'd know."

The bear didn't say anything. He sighed and shook his head.

"I, know yer worried about me, but ya don't have to! I'm not some scared urchin quaken in me boots anymore." He walked up to his boyfriend and put his arms around him.

"I just don't want to lose you again Kit..." He said softly. Voice strained with the memory of his loved one's broken, torn parts twitching and convulsing. Jaws snapping and hook swinging uncontrollably. He could still hear the screeching. Not being able to take his eyes off him, stopping mid performance. Unable to run to him.

"Ye ain't gonna loose me, if sledge hammers, wrenches, or sticky hands aren't strong enough to tear us apart nothin will." Foxy rubbed the bear's back. The body quivered a little. He could feel arms around him, returning the embrace. Wet substance dripped on his shoulder as they held each other tightly. He cried too, remembering that horrible day. The day he was the last to fall. His friends bodies beaten, scattered, and unmoving. A beautiful blue eye staring up at him seemingly asking 'why weren't you fast enough?' When the phantom tears dried they started walking, hand in hand. They were reaching the end of the path.

The lake water reflected their optic lights as they walked past the cover of trees. There was silence as Kit collected what he deemed good skipping rocks. "I wonder what the perfect day would be? Flowers bloomin everywhere? Can't have one without them, right?" The first two splashed right in as he got a good position. The third skirted along the water twice before giving up. "Hm?" He raised a perplexed brow. "Flowers?" "Ye know, Our super special day?" He glanced at him, making a motion like he was holding up an invisible dress skirt, humming a familiar tune. "Oh!...Oh, the Wed- I don't know." "If ye change your mind it won't hurt me. I'm a big pirate I can handle it." He said coyly, the fourth rock he threw actually skipped five times. "No, It was my idea. I want to, as soon as possible. We should tell everyone before that though. That sort of thing needs help planning, right?" "Not if you don't want to." The thinner animatronic threw another rock that made a few more skips before plunging to the depths with a 'plap'. "We can just do it in secret if it'll make ye feel better." "Well, I want this..." He looked into Kit's eyes, his lifted eyepatch showing his full attention. Freddy held his hand and hook in his own grasp as he continued. "I want this to symbolize our next step in...Life and what we survived. We're alive, together, and..." He looked away, contemplating the full implication of the word. "Free." Eyes focused back as he continued. "I want to involve them because they are a part of our bond too. Rosie, Chica and Bonnie who have been with us since the beginning and helped us through that awkward pining phase, the Rockys who had the strange inclination to gather us in a pile, which helped Penny and Faye find us all in the fire, Shiva who we couldn't find Rosie without, and the Nightmares who rebuilt us so we could all be together again. If just one of them weren't in our lives, we wouldn't be having this conversation. The Toys may not be here in person but, I'd like to think they'd be happy too. Teddy still making sure to keep the whole event child friendly and covering BB's eyes when we kiss." "Aye..." He nodded with a laugh. Then his ears suddenly drooped as he asked. "Ye, ye think, Henry would be happy?" 'The old Henry would...' Freddy thought bitterly. He pushed it away with a warm smile. "Yea, he and Charlie would definitely be there with everyone." He let go and sat at the base of the large oak. "It'll be a great way to start our new chapter." "We should tell 'em today then! Start it as soon as today!" Tail kicked up a few leaves as it waved with excitement. "What are wee afraid of? Are they gonna think we're silly? Chica reads to her cupcake that's silly!" He plopped down next to his boyfriend. "Ha, I guess you're right." He pulled him closer, kissed him making his nose squeak. They snuggled together for a while. They stayed that way for some time even watching as the sky brightened with the glory of sunrise. Until the blue eyed machine spoke. "We'll tell them when we get back." "Should do that now, eh? Wouldn't want any morning hikers catching a glimpse of the likes of us." "Yeah, we better." He sighed. "And I was just getting comfortable too." He stood up and held a hand out to help his secret fiancé up. The door opened and petals danced along the breeze that flowed. Not a single soul in sight. "Oh no! I'm gone for a whole night and they go and preform some weird ritual sacrifice!" "We best be following it then. So we can get it over with and clean up what's left." Rows of carefully placed flowers lined up to form a path to the back bedroom and elevator shaft. They were tied to the ladder that led to the second floor, Lolbit's place. It was eerily dark as they climbed into the large room. "I think ye be right Freddy they gone and-" "Surprise!!!" Everyone jumped up wearing partial suits or formal dresses. Behind them two rows of random chairs lined up as nicely as possible leading to Lolbit's center screen. Their digital image was decorated with marrying pixel attire. Bonnie stood to the side with Jovi as they played a soft riff of the bridal march. The table in front of them were carefully placed white suit, tie, and top hat. Next to that was a lovingly stitched pirate Captain's coat. "Who's idea was this? How did you know?" Freddy asked in amazement. Faye shrunk a little as everyone's attention turned to him. Wires and eyeballs spilled out of the suit's arms and bottom. A nicely dressed spaghetti monster. "I-I heard you talking the other day and I thought, I thought it would be nice if we d-d-did it all for you. Got myself tangled-t-tangled on purpose. Made sure you'd hear K-Kit in the vents. Plushy was supposed-posed to lead you out in the woods to find Billy's kids but you left before they were all ready. Luck-Luckily it worked out anyway. Hee hee!" "That's, I don't know what to say..." Freddy looked at all the flowers laced together in a beautiful aisle and along the hanging wires. He felt phantom tears welling up in his eyes. "Aye, it sure is a sight." "I didn't exactly approve of the secret." Shiva admitted. He too was dressed in somewhat formal wear, suit coat over his vest. The sleeves were still almost touching the ground. "I felt like the date should have been your choice but I suppose they took it as me wanting to, 'tell' on them so Plushy locked me in a broom closet." "Dang it Plushy!" "What? I wasn't gonna let him ruin the surprise Faye worked so hard on!" Bonnie looked up as he realized something. "Oh, that's why you weren't around to help put up decorations. I thought you started protesting because FredBear had to start stealing all the flowers from that annoying lady's yard." "Borrowed." The yellowish Nightmare bear corrected softly. "Right..." "We made rings and everything!" Rosemarie stated cheerfully pointing at the Nightmare chicken that held the old couch pillow that had two metal circles resting on it. "I made them from that nonfunctional Toy bear's pinkie." "Chelsea. Don't tell them that." Billy half whispered, half grumbled. His suit already had little cuts from where his children held on, one popping their head up from his neckline to look out. "Oh, sorry." "Uh, um." Faye was a bit fidgety trying to judge their expressions. "H-Hope you l-ike it. I know you probab-bly want-wanted to do it your-sself and I'm-m sorry we got a little carried away..." "It's perfect Faye, thank you. The fact that you all did this together, for us-" Freddy looked over to Kit. They smiled at each other as they held hands. "-Means more than you can ever imagine."

#fanfiction #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #fn@f #frexy #Foxy the Pirate Fox #withered freddy #withered foxy #Freddy FazBear #au

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ephrampettaline · 5 years

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chatzy au log with @bumblingbrujo, @cassiegermaine, @ephrampettaline, @freddiewatts, @imviapassmeabeer, @joeyvoeman, @mayaparker, @scarlettxruby, and @thatwhichbindsus

Ephram came awake squinting and groaning in protest as the curtains to his bedroom were thrown open, letting in floods of too-bright pale sunshine that caught every single dust mote in the air and made him cough at the mere sight.

"Mrs. Hudson says you woke her up to draw you a bath sooo late last night that she was too tired to get us breakfast this morning so Mummy let us have cake and bread-and-butter and cold chicken with our milk!" Addie informed her uncle, once she'd cannonballed herself onto his bed and plumped herself in the slowly-deflating heft of his eiderdown. Her red hair caught at the light too, flaming up in a nimbus around her head, and despite himself Ephram hauled up to a semi-sitting position and wrapped one arm loosely around the little girl.

"Then maybe I should have more late nights that require baths, hmmm?" he said, his own hair rumpled, his skin still smelling of soap and faintly of drinking sweats under his loose white shirt and cotton sleep pants. Ephram leveled a look at Cassie (who was far too amused for his taste) and said, "--good thing I didn't bring any company home with me, either, or Mrs. Hudson would have had to draw two baths and you'd be getting no lunch after such a fancy breakfast."

He'd fucked that wide-hipped barmaid up against the casks of small beer in the back of the Fox and Fern before making his way home and rousting the long-suffering Mrs. Hudson for his bath, but he could just as easily have brought her back to the house.

Or maybe not. Maybe Cassie, in her usual fashion, knew him better than he knew himself, sometimes.

Cassie had actually give Addie the idea to bumrush into Ephram's room for a more pleasant wake up call. If it had been just her or Mrs. Hudson, they would have just pulled back the curtains, along with his sheets and barked at him. They knew Ephram long enough for that kind of privilege anyways. She rolled her eyes slightly as the little girl and her Uncle chatted, readjusting the baby on her hip. "It's time to get up, before you sleep the day away." No doubt, he was fighting back some reminance of a hangover and Cassie stuck out her hand for the red head girl.

"Adeline. Your Uncle has to get ready for work." Addie hopped off the bed standing at the foot with her hands firmly on her hips. "Better get to business." She pouted before running out of the room to go play with her toys. Cassie stayed behind.

"What did you decide at the bar?" She prompted Ephram almost immediately. "Are we keeping the guns on our turf or did Watts switch it?"

Ephram snagged Adeline back to plant a kiss on the girl's soft, sweet-smelling cheek before turning her loose to be shooed off by her mother. "Conversation took a different turn," Ephram grunted shortly as he swung his long legs off the bed, groaning and rubbing his face before lurching to his feet and going to his wardrobe to paw through the three suits he had hanging there. "Christ, the moths've been at these. The last thing I need is to be seen in public with my clothes ventilated -- everyone'll assume it's bullets that did it." He bundled two of his suits out and onto the floor, muttering, "--I'll have to get new ones from Watts, I can afford them now and I need to look the part, don't I? You should get yourself some new frocks too, Cassie. We have to make Kingfisher look like money."

Stepping into his trousers, Ephram fastened them and said, "Miss Caird will be delivering to Watts' warehouse. It's the best dropoff point, Cassie, with the river approach it'll look like any other canal traffic. Right now with the handover in power and the old man's fingerprints still all over everything at Kingfisher, you can bet our warehouses are being watched by the screws. Agents from Organized Crime & Narcotics, would be my bet." He shouldered on a clean shirt, buttoning it and sliding his suspenders over his broad shoulders. "So it's Watts' warehouse, and I'll be shifting our share of the weapons directly to Clair de Lune until we get them handed out." Finishing with his vest and suit jacket, Ephram spread his arms for his sister's approval. "Decent enough?"

Cassie looked at him wearily as he spoke. "Ephram..." It was just another reminder of why she didn't have a soft spot for Freddie Watts. Not because he was bad business or anything like that, quite the opposite. He had a way of making things too personal and muddling everything. In her own opinion, Cassie didn't like handing over the fire power but Ephram's reasoning was fair enough. "Fine. You're lucky your so clever." It was the closest to berating she got over the subject. "I can go along to Clair de Lune when we make the official shift." She pushed the door open wider when Ephram was properly dressed. "Come on. I called Miguel to come fix up your face."

Ephram was about to protest when Mrs. Hudson appeared in the hallway, looking surly and bag-eyed. "Ma'am," she said to Cassie, pointedly ignoring Ephram as if he was standing there stark naked and too shameful to be looked at, "the doctor you requested has arrived and is waiting in the second parlour." She stepped aside to let them pass, and Ephram said, "Fine, fine, I can't argue with the both of you. Although this isn't necessary." It wasn't exactly that Ephram didn't trust Miguel. It was just that he didn't like him. But then, considering the previous night's business with Freddie Watts and the further business tonight, it seemed there was a lot of weighing out trust and like in the balance lately. Striding into the second parlour, its window shutters open to allow the doctor the light he required, Ephram unbuttoned his jacket and slung it off onto a chair. "Come on then, doc," he said briskly. "And will somebody get me some tea and a crust, please? I'm famished."

Miguel had been wondering what Cassie wanted with him, but when Ephram walked into the parlour, all became clear. This was the fool who had been pulling Iann in, as close to an alliance as possible with his no name brother that desperately hated commitment. Miguel opened his big black bag with a click, and pulled out a large vial of sodium hypochlorite, it didn't burn like some antiseptics, so he could douse the wounds generously to kill any bacteria that might have been festering there. The interesting thing about war was that it always made medicine better. Suffering lead to advances. Miguel didn't have any nitrous oxide here, but then again, he didn't think Ephram particularly deserved it. A rough boy like him could deal with the pain.

"This is the part that hurts," he warned as he pulled out a needle and thread. He held it with a long steel needle driver and swished it around in the sodium hypochlorite to make sure it was clean. "Mrs. Hudson, could you be a dear and hold these two bits together?" he was used to war, to dirty trenches and sewing people back together as they screamed, this was downright rosy in comparison. "Thank you," he said politely as Mrs. Hudson helped, and he sewed Ephram's cheek up. It was fast, only three stitches, but having Mrs. Hudson there to hold the flexible skin together helped. "If I were to say, don't do it again, would that mean anything to you, Mr. Kingfisher?"

Ephram dabbed his thumb against his cheek, feeling the familiar tread of stitches with a frown. Not because it might leave a mark, he didn't care about that -- but because it brought up memories he'd rather have left in the squelching mud and stink of the trenches. "If I were to take words from men like you, Doctor," he said tightly, "then you'd be out of business. War's over, after all." Ephram lifted his chin at Mrs. Hudson, who was staring at the young doctor with the doting look of a proud mother (which annoyed Ephram even more). "Tea, Mrs. Hudson," he repeated, and the housekeeper lifted her skirts and swished off, muttering. "While you're here, Miguel," Ephram said, reaching for his jacket and tugging it on again, "perhaps you can serve another purpose. How's your animal husbandry?"

Miguel raised an eyebrow, he ignored Ephram for a couple moments as he cleaned up his equipment and put it all safe and tidy into his black bag. "I think," he finally started. "That you're confusing me with my brother, who will in fact, do anything for money. I, on the other hand, have a career."

Ephram tugged his shirt cuffs straight. "See yourself out, then." He headed out of the second parlour, almost crashing into Mrs. Hudson who was arriving with tea and toast and eggs on a breakfast tray. "Set that aside for me, and pay the doctor," Ephram instructed her, leaving the housekeeper and heading outside and down the lane to a small shed that stood along one of the inner wooden fences.

Unlocking the door, Ephram stepped inside and surveyed the sweating, bloody man who was tied down to a cot within. "Well, Carruthers," he said, taking in the pallor of the man's skin and the objectionable smell in the air, "seems as though I wasn't able to fetch you a veterinarian. You'll have to make do with my own skill at field medicine."

Miguel didn't like Ephram. And he didn't want to help him, but there was the matter of that annoying oath. Not to mention his own curiosity. So after a moment of cursing himself, he followed after Mr. Kingfisher, outside to a small shed. It didn't smell particularly of animal, it smelled like infection and blood. "Ephram - what the holy hell?!" And he had asked about animal husbandry, why did he have to be so obtuse? For that matter, why did Miguel have to be so literal? "How long has he been here? What did you do to him?"

Ephram reached over to bang the door shut after Miguel came in. "I did nothing to him. Eh, Carruthers?" Ephram kicked one leg of the cot, causing the man lashed to it to groan at the jolt. "He brought it on himself. If he wanted to hold a secret meeting about forming a union, he shouldn't have done it at the very Kingfisher Soapworks that employs him. With all that lye about there's a hellish amount of opportunity for an accident." Reaching forward, Ephram twitched off the thin, putrid sheet that covered the man's lower half, exposing oozing raw pink skin on both his legs from the chemical burns. "A dog that bites sometimes gets itself poisoned for its troubles. Sad state of affairs."

Miguel opened his bag again. He didn't think he had enough antiseptic to take care of this, but he had to try. Miguel worked on the putrid burns, cleaning, lathering on ointment, and bandaging. He only stopped to glare up at Ephram Kingfisher. "If anyone here is an animal, it's you," the words came out as soft clipped noise, something between a snarl and a whisper that evaded description. Whatever it was, it was full of vitriol.

Before anything progressed much further than that, the doors of the shed rattled with three hard knocks.

Ephram watched impassively through blue cigarette smoke as the doctor worked, making no response to the man's insult. Carruthers seemed to stir from his pain stupor, though, enough to gather that he was being tended to with care and skill; he craned up to beg Miguel, "Please, please sir, untie me, I can't hardly feel nothin' in my fingers and toes--" before Ephram loomed behind the doctor's shoulder. "If you want something, Carruthers," Ephram said, "ask for it properly. Bark like the fucking dog you are." The man stared in shock, but it was clear that through his tears and pain he was about to obey, and start barking, when the raps at the door interrupted.

Ephram dropped a heavy hand on Miguel's shoulder. "Keep working," he said, and then opened the door.

The hand on Miguel's shoulder calmed his frayed nerves, and filled him with dread. There was nothing he could do. He knew what kind of man Ephram was, the evidence was laying in front of him. Miguel wasn't naive enough to think that the three stitches on Ephram's cheek would hold him back if Miguel pissed him off.

Ciara smiled as the door opened. "Evening Mr. Kingfisher," she started, friendly as could be, flashing her badge so he knew this was official. "I happened to see you walking in over to this shed as I was pulling in, and was hoping to catch a moment of your time."

Ephram angled himself to block most of what was happening in the little shed -- not hard to do for a man of his stature -- and reached for Ciara's badge. "You know my name, I see," he said. "To be expected, since you're on my property. Which means I'm entitled to know yours as well."

Ciara didn't hand over her badge, just held it up for him to read. Keeping her smile and unassuming like. New money were in so many ways worse than old money, they weren't easy to read in the same way and were a little more unpredictable than most. "Ciara Woodman. Sorry to disturb you, but we've got a missing persons, a member of your staff at the Soapworks, a Mr. Carruthers. Would you happen to have heard anything?"

Ephram took his cigarette from his mouth, blowing out smoke as he looked Ciara Woodman up and down, taking his time. She wasn't unknown to him -- or at least, her name wasn't. He'd never seen the woman herself. After a long moment that stretched almost to discomfort, he pushed the door to the shed open, ducking his head and gesturing Ciara inside. "Workplace accident," Ephram said, his voice pleasant and featureless. "Got a doctor in to tend to 'im. If we had to report this on the books, Miss Woodman, it might mean a shutdown for a time -- and times are hard, for those working in factories."

Miguel bristled. How quickly Ephram could change his tune. But what could he say? What could he do? Other than his work, other than why he was there, to heal, to care for. That was all he was good for. At least that's what it felt like sometimes. All he could do was clean up other people's messes. Did Ephram really want to keep this guy alive? Miguel did his best to ignore the two, unhelpful, people in the room. He needed to focus if he was going to clean off all the putrid flesh and disinfect the rest.

"Evening doctor," Ciara greeted as she stepped into the shed, keeping herself mild too even as her nose wrinkled. She made careful sure that she only looked at the sick man and his doctor, and then right back to Mr. Kingfisher. There was a reason she was here, and not Mike from Missing Persons, but they didn't need to know too much about that. Besides, town like this? The police force was always overstretched, filling in jobs that weren't theirs. "I understand your concern, Mr. Kingfisher. Wouldn't want to put anyone out of work now. Mind me asking how such the injury happened?"

Ephram made a small noise, a precursor to starting to explain, when Carruthers himself answered Ciara's question. "It was an act of God, ma'am," he ventured, "or the Devil hisself. There was a malfunction with one of the lye drainpipes and I happened to be carrying buckets of softsoap as I passed, so I wasn't quick enough in getting myself out of the way of the splashing." He swallowed, throat working, and looked from Ciara to Miguel. Not a glance at Ephram. "At least nobody else was hurt thank the Lord. We look out for each other at Kingfisher, ma'am."

Ephram raised his eyebrows briefly, tipping his head in Carruthers' direction. "There you have it," he said.

Miguel mumbled something that could theoretically have been "Evening officer," but wasn't quite words, much less English words. His hands paused for a moment when Carruthers spoke. Was that bravery or cowardice? He kept himself squarely under Ephram's thumb, but maybe he had bought himself some mercy, or time, or... Miguel had no idea. But this wasn't his job, wondering and getting frustrated, none of it was his job. Figuring out a way to take Ephram down a peg was definitely not his job. His job was working, with his hands, and that's what he did. He spread more ointment, and he bandaged. He glanced up at the cop and the animal. Well, people did like dogs. Maybe that was how he was so charismatic. "I'll need to get more ointment and bandages, Ephram." It was something of a test, he wanted to see how Ephram reacted. And maybe he would ask again once the cop left, and see if the reaction changed.

"Then get them, Miguel." Ephram knocked the door open with his shoulder. "Mrs. Hudson will have what you need up at the house."

Ciara turned back to the doctor and his patient, easily hiding her surprise at her answer. Of course, it could be true. On the other hand, between her, the short doctor, and Mr Kingfisher, she knew whose ire she would want to avoid most. His gaze told her it was no gratitude that had him answering for his boss. "Thank-you Mr. Carruthers. Sounds like God's work you're still with us." It didn't; the only god in this city was the lecherous hunger for money. "And the good doctor, of course." She turned back to Ephram, filing notes in the back of her mind of what the shed had looked like from her periphery. "What's the prognosis like, doctor?"

Miguel nodded. Well, that worked. Ephram was serious about keeping Carruthers alive. And he wasn't going to wonder why that was. "If we can beat the infection, he could live." He was blunt and honest. "If he does live, he will never be quite as flexible, but that's something to worry about in a month, not now." For now, he would be going back to the house to ask Mrs. Hudson for more help. "I'll uh... leave you to it then." He glanced between Ms. Woodman and Ephram. He left and closed the door behind him.

Ephram took out his cigarette case, holding it out open to Ciara at the same time as he said, "Let's step outside, shall we? Now the doctor's given Mr. Carruthers a new lease on life, we should leave him to rest." Carruthers, shuddering on the cot, seemed to agree as he closed his eyes in fatigue.

Ciara nodded. "I'll pass the news onto his wife, that he's under the generous care of Mr. Kingfisher itself. Can't say we often get news this good for Missing Persons, especially for folks who live south of the river." She knew enough medical care to know she had to trust the doctor on this one. Factory owners didn't care about their staff like this, not when there were hundreds of men still trying to find work after the war. If the man died, the doctor had provided a perfectly good excuse. Open and shut case, even if the wife tried to do something. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, Ciara took a proferred cigarette, lighting it with her own lighter that she offered him in case he wanted to start a new one. Her shoulders relaxed, her expression eased. "I'll follow your lead."

Ephram curved his big hand around Ciara's as he ducked his head to light his own cigarette at her flame, knuckles brushing against her wrist. The sun was bright outside of the cramped outbuilding but it was chilly, and as the door shut behind them, Ephram turned, putting Ciara's back against the shed. "Have a drink with me," he said, gaze scanning their surroundings quickly -- instinctively, like so many ex-soldiers -- before he fixed her with his dark blue stare. "Come inside. I'll get you warmed up."

His large hands engulfed hers as he lit the flame, ensuring Ciara couldn't step too far away as he led them out, and swung closed the shed behind him. It was cool, and the sun wasn't far from setting. That shed wouldn't stay warm long, she thought idly. Carruthers dissipated from her mind entirely as she let out a small gasp when Ephram pinned her against the shed, those dark eyes piercing right into her. She raised her chin, smiled with just one side of her mouth, and raised an eyebrow. "Sounds tempting. Depends what drinks you're offering, and what sort of company."

Ephram and Miguel had exited the parlor so quickly after the few stitches had been made Cassie didn't get a chance to follow them. She was stuck behind with Ms. Hughs and Ephram's discarded breakfast. She sighed heavily, eventually making it outside and rounding the back of the large estate till she saw the side of the shed along with Ephram and that dectective. Her eyebrows rose high. What the hell was he doing? "Dectective." Cassie called out, voice bright and jovial as she jogged over offering a hand to shake. Cassie had practically inserted herself between them. "We weren't expecting you.You didn't come up to the house. How can we help?"

Ephram pulled back and huffed an aggravated breath, although his gaze was still hot, trained on Ciara over his diminutive sister's bustling, inquisitive head.

Ciara held Ephram's gaze a second longer before smiling just as jovially as Cassie's voice was when she looked over to her, and took her hand firmly. "Mrs. Kingfisher. I didn't, I'm afraid, I apologise. I saw Mr. Kingfisher just as I was arriving. Mrs. Carruthers called us about her husband and I'd hoped Mr. Kingfisher might point us in the right direction, which he so kindly did."

"Did you see the doctor?" Ephram interrupted. "He was to ask Mrs. Hudson for more ointment and bandages, or some such thing. And Cassie -- we'll want to send a little something to Mrs. Carruthers and their three wee boys, won't we." He smiled slightly at Ciara. "Triplets."

Cassie nodded in stiff understanding as Ciara mentioned she had just seen her brother outside and approached. A reminder to up security."I'm glad he could assist. Please, why don't you come into the house." She looked sharply at Ephram for a moment, another silent beratement. "It's chilly out here. Are there other issues we should know about? No doubt you heard about the shot I took at the cemeterary yesterday." Her lips curled into another faint smile at the mention of the Currathers wife and children, "Of course. I'll arrange something to be sent over there promptly. Have McGee handle it." She fixed her hair and shrugged at the mention of Miguel, "I believe Ms. Hughes is still helping the doctor."

Ephram serenely ignored his sister's pointed looks and shepherded the two women back up the path towards the house, where they were met by a harried Mrs. Hudson at the door. "Will you be wanting lunch, Mr. Kingfisher?" she asked, frustration evident in how she wrung her hands, and Ephram nodded.

"In my office, Mrs. Hudson," he said. "If we have any visitors, announce them first, eh?" He left the woman bristling in indignation at this affront to her ability to do her job, and brought everyone through to his office, a fire already crackling and throwing shadows around the room's dark wood and rich forest colours. Ephram sat against the desk in satisfaction -- the old man had hated it when he did that. "A bad situation, that attack at the cemetary," he remarked. "So many opportunistic people skulking around now that our dear father's gone."

"The weather is turning," Ciara agreed, and gestured for the Kingfishers to lead the way. She barely cast a half glance at the shed before following them herself. Ephram shepherded them into her office, and rubbed her arms. The police cars were invariably freezing, whether they were the striped ones or plain clothes, so the heat of the crackling fire was invaluable. She nodded sympathetically. "You understand I can't comment on ongoing investigations, but we are taking this attack very seriously. Allow me to extend our condolences for your father as well."

Ephram watched Ciara rubbing her arms, choosing a seat near the fire; he took off his suit jacket and pushed off from the desk, going over to her and holding the item of clothing out on the tips of two fingers with an encouraging hum rather than tucking it around her shoulders himself. "Mrs. Hudson will have coffee for us with lunch," Ephram said, voice low as if he was addressing Ciara alone.

Ephram stood as Ciara shivered, and offered her his suit coat. "I'll be right as rain in a moment," Ciara replied, shaking her head, and forced the shivering to still, loosening her arms to rest on her lap, looking up at him intensely. "I hope I'm not taking either of you away from work."

Ephram looked back at her for a moment, eyelids slung low, then dropped the coat to hang from the corner of her chair-back before returning to his perch against the big polished desk. "How very polite of you to be concerned about our schedules, Miss Woodman," he said in a more bland tone, all congenial business. "It's yours we're working around, though, isn't it? Seeing as you stopped by to inquire about Mr. Carruthers' whereabouts. Did I provide you all the answers you were looking for, yet?" Ephram folded his arms, fingers curling into the material of his long sleeved shirt. "Or did you need more from me."

In Ephram's office Cassie took a comfortable seat on the small couch in the corner of the room. It was a spot she had long been familiar with, a place she marked for herself as a child when she quietly stepped in as Harlan was in the middle of meetings or business. She was so quiet, she used to disappear in the dark corner. Cassie still did, if she concentrated hard enough. Little did Ciara know, she had clearly made it onto Ephram's work schedule as well.

Mrs. Hudson had showed Miguel where the medical supplies were kept. It was a good thing to know, especially if Cassie and Ephram were going to keep getting hurt and calling him. Or hurting people and calling him. Mrs. Hudson was making coffee, to fight against the chill in the air. She offered Miguel a cup and he smiled at her and took it. "I can take the press to Mr. Kingfisher," he offered and picked up the french press with one hand, and a stack of mugs with the other. Maybe Mrs. Hudson was annoying with Ephram, that seemed to be the only reason why she would let Miguel barge into Ephram's office. He would be happy to annoy Ephram if Mr. Kingfisher took it out on him and not the helpful older woman. "Here we are." He set the mugs down on the desk and started pouring coffee.

“I can’t have imposed too much as you both invited me so generously into your home,” Ciara replied with a smile, looking from him to Cassie. “I will take my leave soon. As far as I’m concerned, my work is done for now, however the paperwork which remains in my office is uninviting to say the least.” The doctor returned, with coffee, and seemed awful comfortable in serving them in the Kingfisher office. “Thank you doctor.”

Ephram took his own mug with a casualness that seemed to suggest he thought that handing around coffee was a fitting use of Miguel's time. "Ah. Does that mean this is the full extent of your interest in Kingfisher Soapworks, then?" Ephram lifted his mug to his lips, letting the steam sting the tip of his long nose before he took a swallow. "Or will we be seeing you broaden your interests to the whole of Kingfisher & Company?" He didn't expect a straightforward answer from the agent, on either his direct question about her official duties or the thread of insinuation that wound through their conversation. But sometimes it paid to be bold with your statements. You never knew how the other person would respond.

Miguel gave Ciara a quick smile. "You're welcome, Officer Woodman." He poured himself a hot mug of coffee and settled back in a comfortable seat by Cassie to wait out the weather. Once things calmed down he would leave. Or once things got a little less entertaining.

“Why do you ask, should I have a professional interest in your company?” Ciara asked, eyes glinting with a friendly mischief, as sirens rang in the distance. She stood, taking in the heat of the fire one last fire. “I believe that is duty calling, I fear. Thank you all, you’ve made my job today much easier.”

Ephram moved to see Ciara to the front door, tucking his calling card into her pocket and saying, "Once duty's call is over, remember that offer of a drink. Dinner, too, perhaps."

When Miguel took a seat near her, Cassie shifted her cup of warm coffee from one hand to another. "Acutally, now that you're here doctor." Se spoke, voice still soft as to not overtake the rest of the office, "Perhaps you could take a look at my brush with death as well." The corner of her mouth curled at the dramatics of her statement, but she didn't exactly wait for Miguel's okay either, pulling the fabric over her shoulder down and off. It was only roughly scabbed. She kept an eye on the dectective as Ciara announced her departure, only speaking when the door clicked behind her. To Ephram this time, "Crooked dectectives aren't exactly reliable."

Ephram snorted as he returned to Cassie's admonition, collecting his coffee and sprawling low in the seat Ciara had vacated. "Careful, you'll shock the good doctor with such scandalous talk," he said. "He seemed pretty impressed by Officer Woodman."

Miguel immediately went to look over the wound. It was scabbed over, and it didn't look inflamed of infected, which was almost surprising. "It looks clean. It doesn't look like it needs stitches, but we can keep an eye on it. If it hurts more or feels hot, you can give me another call." He glanced between Cassie and Ephram, and felt like a kid in a school house. A very volatile ad violent school that he was struggling to understand. "Why do you think she's crooked?" he asked.

"Oh." Cassie blinked slowly, turning her eyes up at the Tiffany Lighting fixture when Miguel seemed confused over her calculation of the dedective. Clearly, she had given him too much credit. "Anyone who takes my brother up on an offer has to be deliciously wicked." She kept her mug up near her mouth, masking a smirk, "wouldn't you agree Ephram?"

Ephram rolled his head lazily against the back of the chair, looking over at Cassie. "Not much of an offer, sister," he said with a slight crooked smile. "Only doing my part to help out law and order in our fair city. Things'll go so much smoother if we strike up a congenial relationship, eh?"

"Well maybe, she's lonely. Maybe she believed his little hero story about helping Carruthers after he had an accident at work, so not to shut down the factory." He was offering excuses, and he knew it was excuses as he said them. No one would really believe that story, would they? Not even from Ephram's smooth mouth.

Ephram left that one to Cassie to answer, since she seemed to like Miguel. Or at least, she'd been the one to call him, so Ephram figured she might as well deal with him. Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway and Ephram was on his feet before she even had a chance to announce, "Mr. Watts will be in shortly, and a young woman arrived whom I showed to the parlour." She paused. "Is this to be a nightly occurrence, sir? With different young women each time?"

Ephram patted Mrs. Hudson's shoulder as he went past. "You've got a dirty mind, Mrs. Hudson," he said, leaving the housekeeper sputtering and red-faced as he went on to the parlour, trusting that Freddie would find his way there. "Hullo, Ruby," Ephram said, gesturing to the bar cart. "Help yourself, get comfortable. I've got need of your cupboards and hidey-holes."

Ruby stood quietly, looking out the window and seemingly disinterested in the muted conversation of Mrs. Hudson, even though it amused her to be called 'a young woman.' Though compared to the easily flappable housekeeper, Ruby supposed she was. But it mattered not. She wasn't here to impress the help. She turned when she was addressed, smiling at the tall head of the Kingfisher clan. "Ephram. A pleasure as always." She moved easily towards the offered drink, pouring herself a small helping of something dark and rich before offering to pour one for him if he liked. She hummed as he got straight to the point. "Running out of room in your own kitchen?" she asked, knowing full well what he meant. "I've got some space you could borrow." She took a sip of her drink. "How much do you need. And when?"

Freddie sauntered into the parlour after a brief detour to the kitchen to fetch himself a cuppa. “And here I thought you weren’t having a wake, Ephram,” he said, before smirking, “This is about the sort of turn-out I’d expected.”

"That's sweet." Cassie gave him a somewhat pathetic little smile. It was clear Miguel was out of his element in their household. Sometimes it was fine to have a completely ignorant party around, like if Addie were to run into the office with one of her toys. But Miguel did know some things, like his brother was further connected to Kingfisher. He was quickly approaching in overstaying his welcome. She stiffened as the maid came in with official announcement of more visitors. "Why don 't I see you out doctor?" Cassie offered, standing and expecting Miguel to follow.

Ephram nodded for Ruby to pour him another like her own, taking a seat this time to conduct business. Unlike Miss Caird of the night before, she was a known quantity; Clair de Lune had provided Slap Jacks with space to hide money or goods or hell, breathing cargo from time to time. He could afford to be more casual. "Enough room for six rifles and," he paused for just a moment, "two dozen pistols, with ammunition." Ephram accepted his drink as Freddie strolled in, furnished with a teacup and saucer, and wondered if the other man had caught Ephram's idea of how to divvy up their new cache of weapons. He'd find out sometime. "The old man would be touched you decided to kick up your heels in his memory, Freddie," Ephram said, not bothering with introductions. In the line of business they were all in, everyone who was an important enough player was known to the others.

“Ruby,” Freddie said, giving the widow a gracious nod, before turning his attention back to Ephram again. “Your math is off, sunshine,” he said bluntly, “Count those handguns again, or I’ll start doing a few equations of my own, yeah?”

Miguel nodded. It was probably time to get going anyway. He stood and followed Cassie out. "Thank Mrs. Hudson for the coffee, please." He ducked out, black bag in hand, and fled from the Kingfisher family.

Ruby nodded to Freddie as he entered, glancing between him and Ephram as they seemed to differ on the amount of items that needed storing. "That's not a problem," Ruby said. "Though I'd need an accurate count," she told them both. "Don't need anyone thinkin' stuff goes missin' under my watch."

"Go on, darling," Freddie said, eyeing Ephram coolly, "-give the nice young lady the proper number. Take your shoes off if you need a bit of help."

Ephram gave a short laugh, then tossed back his drink. "Fine, then," he relented. "Six rifles and eighteen handguns, Ruby, all under Slap Jacks. Freddie will be retaining the balance of the shipment on his side, so no need for you to bother with that." He raised his eyebrows at Freddie. "Satisfied? We'll go halves. But only this once."

"I'll be even more satisfied once I've taken possession of my share," Freddie said. "Which actually brings me to the reason for my visit." He gave Ephram a knowing amused sort of look. "Since you got yourself into a strop last night, we never managed to work out who you'll be having on hand for the delivery. I'll be needing those names, love."

Ephram considered glowering at Freddie, but the previous night's anger had dissipated when he'd lost himself in the barmaid's kisses. "Voeman, like I said. And Dubois, you know her." He smirked in Ruby's direction. "I know he's a valued lodger of yours, Ruby, but I won't be using Cardero. Not after the sloppy fucking mess he turned up at the Fox and Fern."

"Alright. Six and eighteen. I just needed us all to hear it, since we know I won't be doin' any lookin' or countin'." Plausible deniability was one of Ruby's precautions. She never looked in a crate, or a box, and she never asked for names of anyone that might need to hide under her floorboards for a night. So as long as the two men knew what the shipment contained, and paid Ruby for use of her house, then she didn't give two shits what was in the crates. "He has his attributes," Ruby said. "But tact isn't one of them. I'll make sure to send him elsewhere."

Ephram made an approving noise at that particular initiative of Ruby's. "You must send him all over bloody Soapham on a daily basis," he murmured, snorting at the idea of Iann Cardero being sent off on fool's errands the live-long day. "Does that brother of his frequent your establishment? The sanctimonious doctor Miguel?"

"Keep him entirely in the dark, yeah?" Freddie instructed Ruby, "He's for sale at a cheaper price than anyone else in Soapham, and he's the last bloody person I ever want within 50 yards of a firearm." He turned back to Ephram. "And Dubois will do nicely, yeah. She nearly makes up for Voeman." Freddie sipped his tea. "I'll have Wawelski on hand tonight, and Oliver. Just in case you were curious."

Ephram curled up a side of his lip. "Oliver makes up for Wawelski," he grunted, and got up to fetch himself another drink.

"If he keeps busy, he stays - mostly - out of trouble," Ruby said of Iann. "And I've seen Miguel once or twice. Nice fella. Quiet. Never causes trouble." She looked at Freddie and gave him a tip of her head. "I think there's a shipment of seedlings for my winter garden the next county over that need pickin' up. Should take him the better part of two days to fetch it for me."

Ruby: "Longer if he decides to stop and get pissed."

Ephram drank what he'd poured, then sloshed some more into his glass. "So, longer, then," he said, lifting it to his lips.

Ruby smirked. "Oh, ye of little faith in the willpower of a drunkard who doesn't want to be a drunk."

Freddie took another sip of his tea, then looked to Ephram. "And yet you're in the habit of employing him," he murmured, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me darling, just what was it he needed to be paid for last night?"

Ruby looked at Ephram as well. She'd seen the state of Iann that morning, passed out and filthy in front of the kitchen fireplace. She'd tossed a bucket of water on him and run him outside.

"You're like a dog with a fucking bone, Freddie, has anybody ever told you that?" Still, Ephram figured it didn't matter to talk about Iann and what he got up to in front of Ruby; she lodged the man in her house, she was well aware of his activities. He spritzed some seltzer into his scotch and came back around to sit down again. "Nothing extraordinary. I needed a runner who wouldn't be immediately identified as Slap Jacks, and Cardero fit the bill. With the old man gone, there's loose ends I need to tie up." He turned his glass in his fingers and amended, "Loose ends I can tie up, now that I have free rein to do it." Ephram smiled lazily at Freddie. "Enough? Or would you like details of where I sent him and how I conveyed him there?"

Freddie batted his eyelashes, though his eyes remained calculating beneath them. "Oh, I think details would be lovely, Ephram," he said, "Tell us all about your loose ends, hm?"

Ephram crossed his legs at the ankles, slouching lower in his chair. "Have another cup of tea, Freddie," he murmured. "You seem as though you need help swallowing something."

Freddie smiled. "I swallow as well as I ever did, darling - it looks to me as though you have a problem spitting things out."

Ephram hung his arm over the side of the chair, glass dangling from his fingertips. "Why are you so all-fired up to know about what I do with Iann Cardero, out of everything else I'm currently involved in?" he asked, his ire beginning to rise again. "You aren't about to hire the man, and I'm not using him for anything we've got going in common. Change the subject, Freddie. I'm not in the mood."

Freddie's smile turned a bit thoughtful - Ephram's reticence to discuss Cardero meant that he absolutely needed to know what was going on there, and he resolved to set one of his best and brightest on it as soon as he got back to the shop - and he nodded his concession graciously, giving a little wave of his hand not holding his saucer. "Alright then," he said, "-a change of subject. I saw Ciara Woodman leaving here as I was pulling up - will she be playing a part in our new investment, or was that simply a social call?"

Ephram unwound a little bit when Freddie obliged his demand, a smile touching the corner of his mouth as he thought about Ciara Woodman and her clear interest in what Ephram had been proposing. "Business," he said, "but Kingfisher business. Have you tangled with her before? I've heard tell she's not immune to some shekels crossing her palm."

"All cops are dirty if you offer 'em enough," Ruby murmured, raising her eyebrow. Her ex had been a cop before getting himself killed somewhere in the dredges of France. Good riddance, of course. But that was beside the point.

Freddie frowned at the way Ephram was smiling. His getting cosy with the police would be nothing but tiresome where Freddie's own interests were concerned. Freddie would simply have to get in there first. "I know her by reputation," he said, "-but I've never yet had the pleasure."

Ephram sprang up from his chair, reinvigorated by talk about the attractive detective (neverminding Ruby's aside; a bribable agent of the law was a plus as far as he was concerned). "Speaking of pleasure," Ephram announced, "we need to move somewhere decidedly less domestic, now that tonight's weapons shipment has been pinned down. Shall we?" As per usual, the walk to the Fox and Fern was a speedy one, and this time, Ephram found them a normal table to sit at. No need for the privacy of a corner, either.

A plus they could definitely be, but bribable meant turncoat in Ruby's thinking. But Ciara had nothing to do with her, nor would she as far as Ruby knew, so she let it slip from her mind. She downed what was left of her drink and set her glass aside for the housekeeper, and followed down the street to the pub.

Maya glanced up from the customer she was serving when the door swung open. Ephram, she recognized immediately. The other two she placed quickly too. She gave all three of them a nod to acknowledge their entrance before returning to the customer in front of her. Once he was served, she made her way to the table. "What can I get you folks this evening?" she asked with her well worn smile.

"Gin," Ephram said, reaching into his vest pocket and putting some folded bills on the table, keeping them there with two fingertips. "And if either of my fine companions is thirsty for something other than gin, they'll be paying for it themselves." He lifted his hand so Maya could retrieve the money, taking out his cigarette case and lighter.

"Gin will be fine, darling," Freddie agreed, "Make mine a large one, yeah?"

Maya nodded, "Two gins coming right up." She glanced over to Ruby, taking Ephram's money as she did so.

Ephram lit a cigarette and pulled the knobby, stained ashtray closer to him. "Oi," he said to his companions, gesturing to his newly-stitched face, "Cassie got that odious little doctor in to see to me. Apparently he's still larking about as if he's the angel of the battlefield, expecting us all to fall to his boots weeping when he arrives to stitch us up and send us back out to face the guns."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "That little twat with the big sad eyes?" he asked - and then he snorted at the few stitches. "You could've done that much on your own and saved yourself the sermon."

"He was already in the house. It was either let him embroider my face, or run him over on the way out." Ephram chuckled to himself. "You know, I reckon ol' Mrs. Hudson's sweet on him? Either that or thinking of nursing him tenderly to her bosom."

"Gin's fine, thanks," Ruby said as well.

Freddie laughed lightly. "She always did put me in mind of a wet-nurse, your Mrs. Hudson," he said, "So what was he doing round yours then?"

Maya nodded again when Ruby indicated she wanted gin as well. She headed back behind the bar and poured three glasses of gin. Freddie's she made a double. While behind the counter, she started Ruby and Freddie's tabs. She returned to the table. As she set down the glasses, she asked, "Are we here for business or pleasure? I've got to prepare my staff." Although tonight it was just her and one of the bus boys.

"Thanks for that," Ruby said, raising her glass of gin to her lips with a frown. "Now I'll never get the image of Cardero and that woman's tits outta my head."

Ephram crinkled his forehead, puffing out smoke. "What was he doing still hanging around, you mean?" he asked. "I found him another job to do. Although he tried to put me off with some self-righteous comment about his brother. Your good mate Iann Cardero, that is, Freddie." Ephram looked up at Maya's question, saying, "Can't have one without the other, in my experience. Let's see where the night takes us, hmmm?"

"Oh, with Mr. Kingfisher, it's always business, love," Freddie said to Maya, murmuring a quick 'ta' for his drink and taking it from her. He shot Ephram a smirk. "Whatever he says, it's always business."

Ephram momentarily considered objecting to Freddie's characterization of him, but the more he mulled it over, the more he found he liked it. He raised his glass to the other man's smirk and took a drink with a satisfied grunt.

"And here I thought we all had enough uncertainty during the war," Maya replied with a tilted smile to Ephram. She had been an ambulance driver in France. Despite where she and her pub had found themselves, it was enough uncertainty, and many other things, to last her a lifetime. "Always work?" she parroted Freddie, "Haven't you heard about what that makes Jack?"

Ephram barked a laugh at Maya's choice of words. "Miss Parker," he said with tight, contained mirth, "I'm the head of the Kingfisher family. I decide everything when it comes to Jack."

Freddie followed suit, lifting his glass and taking a long swallow. "By which he means they're all dull boys."

Maya kept smiling. She'd been intentional in her words. She had to be. "The head of the Kingfisher family, you say?" she asked in feigned innocence and leaned on an empty chair, "Now you think someone might've mentioned that." Of course, they both knew perfectly well that she knew who he was and that he made the decisions when it came to Jacks.

Ephram pointed at Freddie. "I'll tell Cassie you said that," he threatened, amused. "She's always been of the opinion that the Jacks were wildly entertaining." He took a drag and said smokily, "--not that it means she likes any of them, mind you."

Freddie let loose a silvery peal of laughter this time, and grinned across the table at Ephram. "Does your sister like anyone?" he asked, "I'm only halfway convinced that she likes you. Honestly, if I were you I wouldn't get too comfortable in the throne, love - your Cass may decide the empire would fare better with a female ruler and that'll be your head on the block."

Ephram thumped the table with his knuckles, actually grinning himself. "There, you see, Maya? You may have to revise your knowledge of the Kingfisher family tree after all. My sister might decide she'd prefer to be an only child."

"Well, when the time comes I'm flexible," Maya replied, "Her gin money's just as good as yours."

Ephram carried on grinning at Freddie, the expression feeling all at once unfamiliar and easy on his face. That was the trouble with Watts, in particular; sometimes Ephram's body forgot they were so much older than they'd been when they were close, the first time around. That so much had happened to make him more grim, more bloody-minded. Less fun, Freddie would no doubt say.

Ephram caught sight of Octavia over at the bar and gave a sharp, loud whistle through his teeth to hail her. "Come sit with us!" he called. "Since Ruby's fucked off somewhere, you can take her place on my generous offer to pay for drinks -- so long as you're drinking gin, that is. Anything other than gin, you pay for on your own."

Octavia Picked up her drink and tipped her hat to the bartender. "Evening." She greeted them, taking a seat at their table.

Freddie watched Ephram for a moment, able tonight to see glimmers of the boy he'd known inside the man, and then turned his attention to Vi. "Hello, darling," he said, flashing her a smile and raising his glass, "Drink up, yeah? Ephram's generous offer may dry up at any moment, so do your damage while you can."

Ephram said archly, "--telling Octavia to do her damage is practically the same as turning out your pockets to her. Count your rings, Freddie. Or at least make sure they've still got their gemstones intact." He leaned back, turning his amused look on Vi. "Been lifting anything interesting? I could use a little levity. Or so everyone keeps telling me."

"Well when you put it that way." Vi raised her glass. "Cheers." She said before taking a gulp like it was pop.

Freddie flexed his tattooed hands, the heavy rings he wore sparkling in the low light of the pub. "If she can take them off my fingers," he said, "-she's earned them." He winked at Octavia, "But she knows better than that, don't you, love?"

"Ma a'ways says don't bit the hand that feeds ya." Vi laughed. She leaned forward, inspecting his rings. "Eh, I don't like costume jewelry anyway." She winked back.

Ephram hooted at that, saying to Maya, "Bring this girl a double! She deserves it for that." He shook his head in admiration at Vi's boldness.

Freddie laughed loud, and shot Vi a grin. "Octavia, darling, you may stay at this table as long as you like."

Maya nodded, "Double, coming right up." Once back at the bar, she had to deal with a few other customers before returning with Vi's double.

"My pleasure." Vi said proudly. She sat back and crossed her legs at the knee, making herself a little more comfortable. "What have you fine gentlemen been up to this evening?" She asked.

Ephram finished his drink, saying, "Maybe you best bring the bottle round to leave on the table, Maya. I have a feeling we're going to be plundering your shelf tonight." Turning his attention to Vi's question, he said, "The usual -- slandering those who aren't here to defend themselves. Although with the likes of Iann Cardero, he may just reel through the door at any moment."

Maya returned shortly after with the bottle. As she hadn't been invited to sit, she leaned with a hand on the back of one of the empty chairs. It was always good for business to keep an ear to what the Kingfishers were up to.

Vi downed the rest of the gin and tonic before sliding her glass forward. "Who else are we slandering, eh?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ephram propped an elbow on the table. "Anybody. Whoever we feel like. We've already covered Iann and his doctor brother, but I'm not confining it to family."

Octavia laughed and filled her glass half way, offering a refill to the others. "Oh yes, The Brothers." Vi said.

“Well, I hope you spare your poor widowed sister.” Cassie spoke, walking up to the small group that had formed in the normal spot for Kingfisher and Co when it came to the Fox and Fern. She took a seat on the other side of Ephram. Her elbows on the table and body crouch low and otherwise opposite of the lady she looked, “You should keep business in the manor right now. Not brag about to practical strangers.” Her jaw tightened, voice still soft over the low rumble of the pub, “About anything.”

Ephram chuckled, holding out his glass for more gin. "Maya," he said, since the pub owner was still handy, "has an official called Ciara Woodman ever had a drink here?" Cassie's arrival was welcome, of course, and Ephram absorbed her words without much outward response other than a low hrrrmm.

Ephram turned to Cassie, remembering to tell her, "I mentioned to Freddie Watts that I needed new suits and you were in the market for a few new dresses and he's promised to get that sorted for us -- it's why he knocked off early. If you have any specifications on ribbons or lace or whatnot make sure to send him a runner before he gets working, eh?"

Maya shook her head, "Come on Ephram. You know I'm not going to tell you that. If I did, I'd have to tell the cops you drink here if I want to keep my license."

Octavia looked from Ephram to Maya. "I'm guessing most of this lot are already passed out and the other half's pissed." She said with a shrug.

Cassie turned slightly to look at the bar owner when Ephram inquired with her. She knew The Fox and Fern was a favored and treasured spot. Police had sniffed around in the past. If Maya was at all observant, she’d offer up even slivers of info. “If you hadn’t jumped the detective.” Cassie said cooly, “I was going to visit her tomorrow.”

Cassie nodded at Ephram’s addition about new clothes. It was lower on importance, but she wasn’t one to turn down new frocks and ribbons. “I’ll send a note over. Thank you brother.”

Ephram pressed his lips together in an assessing downturn when Maya refused to give any information, finally saying, "--you'd best attend your other customers, then, if it's your license you're concerned with."

Maya leveled Ephram with a look. "Come now, you're a businessman. What kind of reputation would I have if I went running my mouth for either side? Would you drink here if you knew I was the kind to talk?"

Ephram spread his hands on the table. "Everyone talks to someone, Maya," he said flatly, the words clipped. "If you're not talking to me, then I don't have much use for you, do I?" He nodded at the bottle. "Other than for you to pour and serve."

Cassie‘s lips thinned. “Then leave. If you want to stay on Kingfisher’s good side.” She opened her mouth to continue but Ephram stepped in. She sat back in the bar stool a little more relaxed. Cassie hadn’t ordered a drink. She didn’t plan to. Someone had to keep their head. Besides, she preferred to drink in private, regardless of the taboo. “None of this conversation concerns you. Leave the bottle.” She grumbled back to Maya, waving the bartender off without so much as a glance. It rubbed her the wrong way, when someone completely disregarded her brother’s request. The only person who could do that was…well Cassie herself.

Maya raised an eyebrow. She wasn't surprised, not really. She looked between Cassie and Ephram, not losing her plaster smile. To Cassie, she reminded, "You wouldn't do anything here, not when its the only place you can be certain isn't a trap." Then facing Ephram, she added, "And what if I had seen her around here? Her money's good as yours."

Ephram stood, bringing Cassie up with him and snagging the neck of the gin bottle to bring as well. "Seems Kingfisher's thirst will have to be slaked somewhere new," he remarked. "Come on, Cassie. Good to see you, Vi. If you want to drink somewhere for the Jacks, you know which pubs are ours." He nodded at Maya as they went past her. "Now you won't have to factor our money into what you take."

Cassie stood promptly with Ephram, not wasting her time on responding to the other woman behind the bar. “Don’t ever go back to that place.” She said, the poison and vitriol only obvious behind her words to someone like her brother.

Ephram lit a cigarette as soon as they left the Fox and Fern for the last time, inhaling in the now downright cold night air. "We have options," he said, although he was frowning. "Suppose this means I'll either have to walk a little farther or take a car when I go drinking. Ah, well."

“A driver is something we can easily remedy.” Cassie shrugged, continuing to walk next to her brother down the block until the rounded the corner and saw the familiar outline of the large manor. She paused only for a moment when she saw a figure looming around outside the front doors, but her hesitation quickly died, and instead Cassie smiled in amusement just a little. “It’s Voeman. Did you call him? Mrs. Hughs is gonna have a cow.”

Ephram grunted, raising a hand to hail Voeman as they approached. "Mrs. Hudson never met something bovine she didn't like. It's me she likes to cut her eyes at." He nodded curtly at Joey when they were within speaking distance, saying, "Awright, soldier?"

Joey had been getting a bit anxious about this job offer Ephram had thrown his way. He mostly knew what he was getting into, and it was nothing good, but Ephram had saved his life during the war and that wasn't easily forgotten. He wasn't anxious about the subject matter, no, just the fact that he hadn't been called in a while. He wasn't a man that liked having time on his hands, and lord knew he didn't want to be home with his wife. "Heya, Boss," he said with a nod in answer. "Thought I'd drop by." He caught Cassie's eye and smiled a bit. Just a bit. "Ma'am," he greeted, touching the brim of his cap.

"Well, no use you propping up the wall outside." Ephram opened the front doors to let them in, Mrs. Hudson turning up a few moments later and visibly drooping at Ephram's -- third? fourth? -- request for food for the day, his previous demands all having gone uneaten for one reason or the other. "Come into the second parlour," Ephram told the other two. "It's smallest, it always warms up fastest."

“Go, go.” Cassie waved them along eager to get into the house and next to a roaring firepit as well. She had to give it to Joey, at least he knew how to show up somewhat inconspicuous. Still, maybe he was just a little eager for a job. Ephram hadn’t used him in a bit, and Cassie wondered only for a quick moment if that was her fault. “She’s going to have a fit.” She sung quietly to her brother in reminder about their maid. The lady did look, at the very least, disheveled and flustered, “I saw her feeding your other meals to the children. And the dog.” Cassie commented when she opened up the second parlor.

"At least someone's being fed." After the strange turn of events at the Fox and Fern, Ephram didn't feel much like drinking; once Mrs. Hudson brought the tray of tea and sandwiches, he selected one and ate it out of hand with a cup of tea in the other, toasting himself in front of the fire and just ... watching his sister and Joey.

The Kingfisher house always baffled Joey. He didn't even have one parlor in his apartment, let alone a second one. He wasn't strung up for cash by any means, thanks to Ephram, but he lived a pretty simple life compared to this. No maid. No fancy teapot and matching fine china. But he didn't look at them with envy. Just awe and bewilderment. "Thank you," Joey said quietly to the maid as she brought them tea and food, which he gladly helped himself to, removing his flat cap and setting it on the arm of the chair he sat in as he sipped his tea. "What were you two out and about for?" he inquired, side glancing at Cassie as subtly as he could manage.

“Business.” Cassie answered Joey simply, taking her seat and eating one small sandwich from the tray that had been delivered. “We didn’t get very far. And instead, we found a bar that is no longer suitable for Kingfisher and Co.”

Joey raised his eyebrows as he took another sip. "Oh, which bar? Let me know where I should avoid."

Ephram added, "--or the Slap Jacks, for that matter. We're shifting our drinking to, hmmmm ... The Gray Pearl, I think. They do a nice roast there on Friday nights and it's only two long blocks further than Fox and Fern. In the other direction." Ephram drank some tea and then said experimentally, "Cassie was told tonight that she shouldn't dare try anything at Fox and Fern since it's apparently the only place in Soapham she can be sure isn't a trap." He gestured around their heads at the manor with the last crust of his sandwich before popping it in his mouth.

Cassie side glanced to Joey when Ephram informed the other man with better specifics of what had happened at the pub. A threat, but an easily perceived one none the less. She scoffed, “Which should automatically put it under suspicion for everyone.”

Joey felt himself getting angry at the notion of something disrespecting Ephram and Cassie. He wasn't sure if it was his loyalty to the Kingfisher family and the Slap Jacks flaring up or...something else. "You want me to do something about them?" he asked, setting his teacup down on the table and leaning forward slightly.

Ephram shook his head. "Not that important. Let them go on as they are -- we have more complex situations at hand."

Joey leaned back just as quickly, abandoning his empty teacup on the table. "Okay. But just say the word if you change your mind." He was debating bringing up other jobs Ephram might have for him, but unlike when they served together, this was a whole other element that belonged to Ephram and he was only allowed to be privy to because these two wished it so. So he did his best never to overstep his bounds.

If she wanted to be more petty, or more like if she could afford to be more petty, Cassie wasn’t sure she’d agree with the shadow of a threat as unimportant. It’d been more of a shock then anything to have the comment directed at her. It meant the barkeep was plain stupid, or someone in a mask. For the time being, Cassie would chalk it up to stupidity. “You look good Joey.” She commented, taking a sip from her tea. “Ephram’s gathering arms from a supplier.” Cassie paused glancing to her brother to allow him to continue, “That firepower will help us in the coming weeks.”

Ephram polished off another sandwich and cup of tea, finally starting to feel a little more settled. "You'll be needed for the delivery of the arms," he told Joey, "at the warehouse of Freddie Watts. He and his men will be in attendance, and the weapons are to be divided squarely between us. I'm bringing Dubois as well to keep you company, and then our share of the guns is going to Clair de Lune. Ruby's already been notified to make room for them." He looked over at Cassie. "You said you wanted to handle that part? Joey should go with you."

Joey suppressed the urge to smile at Cassie's compliment, simply nodding in thank you. "You as well, Cassie," he said quietly, refilling his teacup just so he had something to do with his hands. He nodded along as Cassie and Ephram explained the plan. He raised an eyebrow at the mention of 'in the coming weeks', but let it go to focus on the job at hand. "Sounds good to me. You expecting anything to go sideways?" He'd never met this Freddie Watts, though he'd heard of him, and didn't quite know what to expect.

Ephram ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek for a moment -- but only a moment. "Freddie's solid," he said, but the streak of cold, ruthless business he'd cultivated in himself spurred him on to add, "--for now. He's got nothing to gain by turning coat on this deal. And I reckon he's riding out his curiosity on what direction Kingfisher's gonna take with the old man six feet under."

Cassie sighed at Ephram’s suggestion. She felt he was doing it just to spite in her some round about way. Not that Joey’s company was unwelcome it just…felt weird encouraged by her brother. “Ephram, it’s not going to look exactly status quo for a war veteran to be approaching a half way house with a woman in tow.” She rolled her eyes at the idea of Freddie being a threat, “He’s too cocky over the share he got. He won’t put that in jeopardy.”

Ephram scratched the tip of his ring finger against his chin. "I'm sure Joey's dignity can handle some idle gossip about his whoremongering, if that's what it takes to get you and the shipment to safety," he said, stare unwavering between them. "I want you both on this. That's the long and short of it."

Joey wordlessly gestured toward Cassie with a nod of agreement, but he knew he couldn't argue with Ephram. "I'm no stranger to getting my hands dirty. Or my reputation." It was a bit of a joke, but he didn't laugh. "Whatever you want, Boss."

“Fine.” Cassie backed down, placing her tea cup on the table with a little harder ‘clang’ against the wood. She’d do as she was told, but it didn’t mean she always had to agree with it. “Joey and I will oversee Clair de Lune and the shipment together. At your request.”

Ephram met Cassie's displeased look, holding it as he said to Joey, "...there's a man in that shed against the western fence. A man whose life has run some ways past its purpose." He paused, then let the hammer drop. "Make sure those two things meet up even again, Voeman. And don't let me see any trace of it when you're done." Ephram smiled flatly. "I reckon you need more tasks to keep you busy and out of Cassie's hair."

Joey stood at Ephram's orders. He was used to being ejected from the house when he was no longer needed. Sent off to do the dirty work. But it was still always jarring. He remembered how Ephram had treated him like a pal in the trenches. An equal as they both stared death in the face over and over. But things were different now, and it didn't do well to dwell on the past. "Yes sir," he muttered, picking up his cap and heading for the door. "Consider it done."

“I know how to handle myself, and Joey Voeman.” Cassie grumbled to Ephram, “Your votes in confidence are overwhelming. Anyways, that widow should have received a check of funds by now.” Since he’d brung up the man dying in the shed, “I sent a box of groceries too. So, they’ll forget about him.” Cassie summarized flatly.

Ephram covered the distance over to Cassie in a few long strides, until he was next to her, curved over her so close his breath stirred her hair. "To hell with the Carruthers widow," he said, voice rumbling. "Do you want Voeman or not? Isn't that why you're pissed with me for staying out last night, for getting close to Ciara Woodman today? Because your bed's been cold too long?" Ephram pressed in closer, cinching Cassie's arm in his big hand. "Or is it something else that's got you bothered."

Cassie made a grimace when she saw Ephram quickly closing the space between them. It wasn’t any sort of reaction she had been expecting, but the sharp whispers next to her ear had her chuckling shortly thereafter. “Ephram please. If I wanted Joey I could have him. I’ve done it before. He’s has a wife. There are certain precautions. But most importantly, I know how to keep business and personal life separate.”

She turned, narrowing her eyes slightly at him, “I don’t know if I could say the same for you. So if the Slapjacks slip with this half and half deal you have with Watts-“ Cassie pulled her arm from Ephram’s grasp, “Don’t come crying to me.”

#au:gangster #alternate ephram #cassiegermaine #bumblingbrujo #thatwhichbindsus #freddiewatts #scarlettxruby #mayaparker #imviapassmeabeer #joeyvoeman

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somethingvaguetodo · 5 years

Text

Signals Crossed Pt. 2

A lot of people asked for a Part 2 of this, so here you go!

Adrien sat in his trailer, wringing his hands together and unable to focus. Marinette was due to arrive at the photo shoot any minute, and he still didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw her. He had never been more thankful that it was summer and he was off from school, otherwise he did not think he would have lasted these few days seeing Marinette in class and not saying anything.

But now that the moment was upon him, he had no idea how to proceed.

Plagg seemed to think that it would be best to just come out with it, and tell Marinette the truth, but Adrien wanted Marinette to figure it out for herself. His half formed plan was to let her see the Chat Noir in him and come to the conclusion on her own, but he still wasn’t sure how to do that without cluing the rest of the crew in as well.

Before he had a chance to think about it any more, Nathalie knocked at his door.

“Adrien,” she called, “Your guest is here, and Vincent is ready for you.”

Silently thanking whichever deity that was listening that he wouldn’t have to be alone in his trailer with Marinette, Adrien took one last look in the mirror. Even though it was a warm and sunny summer day, they were shooting fall clothes, and he was wearing earth tones - brown trousers and a tan shirt, with a hickory colored trench coat over it. Already sweating from anxiety and the heat, Adrien stepped out of his trailer.

Today, they were set up in a small park alongside the Canal Saint-Martin, a quiet area in the 10ième. The small crew was milling about; Vincent was playing around with his camera, assistants setting up the lighting, and Marinette hovered uncertainly at the outskirts. She was looking distractingly pretty in a royal blue jumpsuit and a wide brimmed white sunhat with a blue ribbon. Even before discovering that Marinette was actually Ladybug and the love of his life, he found her distractingly pretty. Adrien waved to her, and she waved back, a light blush dusting her cheeks. Adrien felt his heartbeat speed up, but it helped him feel in control. Taking a deep breath as he walked toward her, he reminded himself of his goal. Just be calm, act natural, and show her that you are Chat Noir.

“Hey Marinette,” he said, coming to stop right in front of her. This close, he could see her whole face under the hat, the light dusting of freckles across her nose, her bright blue eyes. How he never realized she was Ladybug was incredible.

Marinette smiled shyly. “Hey Adrien! Thanks for inviting me!”

“Of course...” he trailed off as she reached forward and touched his jacket, right above his heart. Adrien was pleasantly surprised with her directness.

“Is this suede?”

Adrien took a second before responding, disappointed that they were talking about his clothes. “Ultrasuede, actually. Père thinks it’s making a comeback.”

Marinette’s eyes were intensely focused on his coat. She pinched the collar between two fingers and felt the fabric. When she took a step toward him to closely inspect the stitching, Adrien stopped breathing.

But somehow, Marinette did not seem to be as affected by their proximity as he was. “Wow, I didn’t think ultrasuede could drape like this…” she muttered, flipping his coat open to feel the inside and completely oblivious to the way that Adrien’s brain seemed to have short circuited. “What material is the lining?”

“Adrien!” Vincent called before Adrien could answer her question. Marinette jumped as if burned, dropping his coat and taking a giant step away from him. A bright red blush bloomed across her cheeks, and Adrien was glad to see that he still had some effect on her. She pulled down the brim of her hat as if trying to hide underneath it.

Adrien cleared his throat. “I better go model.”

Marinette giggled. “That’s what they pay you for.”

Adrien nodded rapidly, trying to figure out what to say. Finding out that Marinette is Ladybug had clearly crippled his ability to interact with her. “Why don’t you go over to Nathalie? She can find you a place to sit while I…” He struck a playful pose, trying to remind himself that he was supposed to be embodying Chat Noir. Marinette giggled again.

He watched her walk away, mentally shaking himself to get back in a professional mindset. Vincent called out to him again.

Adrien went through the motions of modeling, changing his pose when Vincent requested it, his smile easy as he watched Marinette. She watched him for a while, the blush still on her face, but quickly became distracted by talking to Emmanuelle, his stylist, and Claude, his dresser.

When Vincent stopped to check the shots, Emmanuelle waved him over.

“Your friend had an interesting idea,” she began, but Marinette cut her off.

“It’s missing something,” she said, practically bubbling out of her seat. “I would say it needs a pop of color, like a burgundy or even a forest green, but then I was thinking you need a pattern.” She jumped up. “Can I see what else is in your trailer?”

Barely waiting for his confirmation, Marinette grabbed his hand and pulled him toward his trailer, leaving Adrien to wonder if she had somehow figured him out and was just trying to drive him crazy. He stood by the door as Marinette rushed to the rack of clothes inside, rifling through the items on their hangers.

“No… that won’t work… maybe if I had my sewing machine…” Marinette muttered to herself, dismissing every item. Adrien watched her, so enthralled with the fact that she looked like Ladybug trying to work out the use of a Lucky Charm that he almost forgot he was supposed to be acting differently around her.

She held up an olive green shirt as he walked closer. “Hmmm… this doesn’t really match your skin tone,” she commented.

“I’ve heard I pull off black pretty well,” he said, an admittedly paltry clue. Marinette didn’t even look at him.

“Black would throw off the earth tones.”

Adrien sighed, almost defeated.

“See…” she pulled a black vest out of the rack and held it up to him. Suddenly, she gasped. “Wait, Adrien, that’s perfect!” She yanked the vest off of the hanger and turned it inside out. The lining was a leopard print: tans and oranges and browns and blacks.

“A cat print?” Adrien asked, smirking as he shrugged off his jacket and took the vest from Marinette. “It’s almost like Chat Noir! Get it, because it’s black on one side and cat on the other?”

Marinette hummed, but didn’t show any sign that the comment meant more to her. “Leave it open?” she asked, pulling at the two halves. “Or close it? Because the buttons are now on the inside.”

Adrien was starting to get a little upset. He clearly didn’t stand a chance next to the allure of fashion.

“I can button it,” he assured her, but she was already reaching for it herself. Her fingers were quick and nimble, but it was tricky to close from the inside out. Adrien felt his heart rate pick up again. Her knuckles brushed against his stomach as she coaxed the buttons into their holes, and he shivered, unable to stop himself. Despite all of his fantasies of turning into a suave superhero to gain her attention, Adrien knew that most of the time, Chat Noir was a wreck around Ladybug. Why should this have turned out any differently?

Marinette finished the last button and smoothed the fabric down, both hands running down his abdomen.

“How does that feel?”

“It’s purr-fect,” he said, a last ditch effort to hold on to his plan to reveal himself to her.

Marinette looked up at him, her eyes wide. She seemed to finally stop and think about what he was saying, curiously bright in her gaze. Adrien weighed his options, trying to decide what to do next, and trying to talk himself out of just leaning down and kissing her.

The door burst open behind him, and they sprang apart.

“Let me see what you’ve done,” Emmanuelle said, totally oblivious to what she just interrupted. “Vincent wants to finish this outfit and move on.” Marinette squeaked, clearly embarrassed, and pushed past Emmanuelle in her haste to leave the trailer. Emmanuelle looked at Adrien, confused.

Adrien sighed, completely defeated.

By the time the photo shoot ended and Adrien bid Marinette goodbye, he was more than a little upset. The drive home was silent, and even Nathalie could tell that he was not in the mood to hear about his schedule for the next day.

Adrien rushed into the house, ignoring the fact that his dinner was probably ready for him in the dining room, went immediately to his room. He slammed his bedroom door behind him, paying no mind to how annoyed his father would be for his actions. Despite his best attempts all day at showing his Chat side, far more than he ever dared to as Adrien before, Marinette didn’t seem to notice at all. In fact, she was far more preoccupied with everything fashion and technical about the photo shoot that she didn’t even seem to notice him at times.

“I don’t understand, Plagg,” Adrien whined, throwing himself down onto his bed, his face landing in his pillow. “What should I have done?”

Plagg landed on the pillow beside him. “Maybe you should have just told her.”

“Told her!” Adrien shot up, his torso twisting uncomfortably until he was in a sitting position. “I can’t just tell her my identity! That’s the one thing that she has been so adamant about all along.”

Plagg made a remarkably skeptical expression for a being without an eyebrow he could raise. “But it was her fault for revealing her identity. She should have been more careful with the messages if she didn’t want you to know who she is.”

Adrien thought about it, having to acknowledge that Plagg was right. Ladybug really couldn’t fault him if he revealed his identity, because she did it first. Actually, she really couldn’t fault him if he revealed his identity in the exact same way.

“I think I have an idea,” he said, grinning. “Plagg, claws out!”

Before Plagg had a chance to respond, Adrien’s transformation washed over him, and Chat Noir vaulted out of his window. He traversed the rooftops quickly, coming to a halt on the roof of his school building. It gave him a perfect view of Marinette’s parent’s bakery, and their adjoining house. The round window on the top floor was brightly lit, indicating that Marinette was inside. Chat pulled out his baton.

From: 0000M0000D0000 To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng Hey Marinette! I’m so glad that you were able to come to my shoot today! I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun doing a work thing :) Hopefully you can join me again sometime, or we can do something else?? I love having the time to hang out with you outside of school xx Adrien

Chat reread the message twice, making sure there were no spelling errors. He made sure there weren’t too many exclamation marks that would make him seem strange or overenthusiastic. He considered adding a kissing emoji at the end, but left the two x’s.

He crossed his fingers on his left hand, hit send, and put his baton away. Chat settled comfortably onto the roof, closed his eyes, and decided to try those deep breathing exercises that Ladybug was so fond of.

Chat was sure that even without his enhanced hearing, he would have detected the high-pitched scream that emanated from Marinette’s room two minutes later.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #chat noir #mlb #my writing

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

Note

Mouth stitched shut Dreamtale? I love how you write Dream and Nightmare!

Prompt: mouth stitched shut

Fandom: Dreamtale

Characters and pairing: Nightmare, Dream, Dreammare

Warnings: body horror, abusive relationship, blood, unwilling body modification please tell me if I need to tag more stuff

Word count: 1,201

Summary: Dream was unable to escape from Dreamtale. Nightmare punishes for trying to leave.

“There now, that’s much better.” Nightmare purred, pulling away to inspect his handiwork, Dream still firmly held in his tentacles. He’d managed to capture his treacherous other half before he could escape through the strange golden portal that he’d somehow managed to summon after breaking free of the stone prison that he’d put the other into. He couldn’t have the positive guardian attempting to charm the dark Papyri he kept as staff at the castle, and he certainly wasn’t going to let his weakness wander around freely to be kidnapped and used against him. But Dream’s yelling and panicked wailing had been entirely too irritating to deal with.

Dream hiccupped a little, golden tears running down his face, whimpering softly, the bone still bleeding marrow and magic from the needle he’d charged with his magic in order to force the magical thread around the other’s mouth. The magic was a slightly darker color, and his other half was trembling so delightfully in his grasp. The pain and fear in the other’s face and aura was delightful. “M-mmnnn…” The other managed out, hiccupping more, wincing a little in pain.

“I did that because I didn’t want you to talk, Dream. This was also a punishment. You tried to fight me and then run away. I had to do this to you… Aww, what’s the matter? Do you really think that I enjoy hurting you like this?” The corrupted guardian cooed, feigning hurt and distress at the very thought. He couldn’t help the broad smirk on his face, as he pulled the other closer again “Nod or shake your head, depending on what you feel the answer is, Dreamy…”

Dream could hear the dangerous edge in the other’s voice, and didn’t know what this sadistic parody of his once loving and kind mate wanted him to respond with. Timidly he shook his head a little, though the tears continued to stream down his face, the fear in his aura intensifying and he cringed a little in the other’s steel grip, bracing for another hit.

“Hmmm… No? That’s what you indicated… But the fear in your aura indicates otherwise… Are you trying to lie to me, sunbeam? You’ve always been so terrible at it. It’s one of your most endearing traits. You’ve always been so easy to read… At least for me, beloved.” Nightmare purred, his grip on Dream tightening a little further.

Enough to cause the smaller guardian to tremble a little and let out a squeak of pain, tears falling faster from his eye sockets as he lightly squeezed the tentacles holding in place a little - a desperate, silent plea for the other to stop.

“You want me to stop?” The negative spirit prompted, smirking a little bit as he tightened his grip on the other a little- enough to hear Dream’s bones creak.

The positive guardian nodded frantically, shaking a little and stopped trying to grab the other’s tentacle that was holding him, not wanting to seem like he was trying to attack the other whatsoever.

“Will you do as I say?” Nightmare pressed, narrowing his visible cyan eye as he watched the other closely.

Dream nodded more, still utterly terrified by what his beloved had turned into, unable to stop himself as he started to silently cry harder, occasionally hiccupping and letting out tiny sounds of pain - both at Nightmare’s awful hold on him and the fact that his hiccups pulled on the stitches on his mouth, causing him to bleed more.

“Hmmm… Well, I suppose I will believe you, at the moment, though I will be testing that promise… Don’t look at me like that, I know that you’re wholly incapable of doing actual damage to anyone.” Nightmare decided, humming a little. He loosened his grip on his other half and asked “What was that golden circle you were about to step into, when I grabbed you?”

The positive spirit stared at him, unsure how to explain - not that Dream really knew what it was. His hands were free, and after taking a couple of breaths that were supposed to be calming, the positive spirit signed {Do not know. Powers made it. Felt safe to go} while doing his best to keep his fingers from shaking… And more or less succeeded.

“Do you know where it was going to send you to? And I’m hurt that you would try to flee my side - surely you’re going to safe with me? I do apologize for hurting you, but I had to make sure that you wouldn’t cause me trouble. You understand, don’t you? I rule this world now, and I must keep a strict semblance of order. All others who tried to attack me died… Now, I can’t kill you, but this is a reminder to behave.” Nightmare purred, gently stroking a couple of the stitches, smirking when Dream flinched - but also leaned into his touch a little, likely taking comfort in the gentle contact, despite himself. The other’s aura settled a bit in response.

{No. Just a feeling of safety. I am sorry, I am sorry, please don’t punish me again. I will be good, I promise! I understand, I will be good please do not punish me.} Dream signed, his fingers trembling a little, but the message still more or less understandable.

“I’m glad that you understand now, my darling.” Nightmare crooned, continuing to gently stroke a couple of the other’s stitches, his finger tips running along the other’s teeth and the still sluggishly bleeding puncture wounds. “Could you open that portal again? Or, barring that, can you teach me how you did it, so that I can create such a portal myself?”

Dream thought carefully for a couple of moments, trying to figure out how to convey what had happened, signing after a moment {Do not know how. Just wanted to be safe and away. Portal opened. Positive place. I will try.} He concentrated for a couple of moments but… With Nightmare holding him, he just didn’t have the magic required to open portal {You are too close. I do not have enough magic to open a portal right now.} He really hoped that the other would believe him, as he was telling the truth.

“Hmm, you were focused on a place of safety, and you could feel positivity on the other side? I don’t want to let you go just yet… I simply can’t be sure that you won’t just flee the first moment you think you’re far enough to run - and depending on how positive the area you open the portal to - I won’t be able to follow you until I find the place and make it more suited to my own needs.” Nightmare hummed thoughtfully, concentrating for a moment before a cyan portal opened before the two of them. “I am very curious as to where this leads - but I think I’ll order a couple of the dark Papyri through it first.”

Dream stared forlornly at the portal, wondering miserably what the other had in store for him. He couldn’t be killed - it would dust Nightmare as well. But that didn’t mean the rest of his existence was going to be a pleasant one.

#bad things happen bingo #dreamtale #dream #nightmare #dreammare #abusive relationship tw #body horror tw #blood tw #my writing #tw unwilling body modification

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artfighterblog · 5 years

Photo

In the distance as a car is traveling down the road to a town. The guy is munching on some snacks as he drives into the town looking for a gas station before he runs out of gas. As he pulls up to the gas station it looks pretty normal and everything. A little run down but still everything seems to be normal. As he stops by the place for gas he gets up and walks into the gas station.

“hello there sir you look like your from out of town there.” The cashier at the store says as he walks in.

“Sure am moving into town from all the way from my hometown to attend to college this year. And maybe make friends if I can.” The gentlemen gives a shrug and a soft smile glad to be greeted.

The cashier shakes his head and gives one look at the young man before him as he himself is old.

“young man I wouldn’t recommend moving to this town at all if your wanting to live I suggest you buck your self out of town before something bad comes. If you see a doll in your room just know you might say good bye to yourself.” As the old cashier tries to warn him gently without being rude.

The gentleman gives the old cashier a weird look for a moment and shakes his head as he goes grab the things he needs to buy and also buy the gas that he needs before leaving the gas station. By the time he gets to his car he froze for a second noticing that there is something wrong with his car. As he carefully takes a look at his car he notices there are threads all over his car and drops his things as he turns around to look at the gas station only to notice the entire place is made of cloth.

“what the fu-” His sentence got cut short as he suddenly heard. Laughter noises hearing a small curse lullaby. He gets very quiet and decides he needs to get out of here fast. He turns to get to his car only to stop noticing the entire vehicle gets turned into cloth. He hears laughter getting louder and louder along with the song of the cursed lullaby he starts running knowing fully well a clothed car is no good. He suddenly feels like he is running for hours while breathing hard.

He suddenly gets a Slap onto his face as he gets woken up. “HEY! WAKE UP!.. young man you back with us?” The guy from the cashier before is there knelt down beside him. Slapping him awake like for some reason he was suddenly trapped in a nightmare. He sits up on his own shaking his head trying to make sense of the world trying to figure out what has just happened.

“ye…yea I am ok thanks” He suddenly feels nervous but suspicious at the same time.

“Well I don’t know about you but I believe you need to go get some rest young man you just suddenly fainted there you sure you alright there?” As the old cashier helped him up.

“uh yea something on the lines I should get some rest I’ll go ahead and just go check into a hotel maybe get some rest for now to make sure I won’t faint from the rest of my trip.” he slowly walks out of the gas station deciding not to grab anything but getting gas. After he confirms his car is actually an car and gets some gas before leaving. One thing for sure though he is very creeped out whatever lullaby he heard earlier in his sleep and he prefers not to hear this again. Thinking of it gives him the shivers as he tries to shake it off by shaking his head and drives off finding a nearest hotel to check in for the night in hopes maybe he just needs rest not letting himself get riled up the best as he can.

He pulls up to a motel still breathing hard for a moment but as he pulled up he speaks to himself as he is gripping the steering wheel for a moment. “OK David remember the things you saw back there was just an illusion all of that was not real your ok and your alive. Now your going to check into a motel calm down and chill while possibly watching tv or possibly some rest just like that old man just said to do is get some rest.” making sure of himself after giving himself the pep talk he gets up out of the car trying to be chill as possible but failing at the same time a bit. He walks through the hotel doors sighing feeling glad its normal for the time being. He walks up to the person at the front office to check in make a small talk to go to the room with his bag.

By the time David gets to his room he set his bag down and double makes sure his door is locked. He goes lays down on the bed turning on the tv he watches the tv mindlessly for the evening. About an hour in as he is watching tv he forgets about the ordeal earlier and decides to order pizza to his hotel room. About thirty minutes passes and hears a knock at the door. He checks who it is from the hole in the door before opening only to shake his head thinking he is going crazy as he notice’s the person looks like they are wearing sewn up clothing. As the person seem to have the most creepiest smiles he had seen. He rechecks the hole again only to find the person appearing as a normal pizza delivery man. He opens the door slowly and breaths a sign of relief finding them as a normal human as he pays for the pizza and take the pizza.

About thirty minutes later he is watching tv while slowly eating pizza. The show on the tv gets interrupted and suddenly there is a doll appearing on the screen laughing. He drops his pizza in mid watch of it all.

“hi I hear your staying in town can I come to play?” As the doll starts laughing, he gets up quickly grabbing the keys and a jacket and leaves the room soon as possible. The moment he walks out the door of the hotel he is suddenly stabbed by the delivery pizza man only to notice there are threads and stitches on him. The threaded doll delivery man starts laughing as David falls to the ground bleeding.

Screaming he wakes up on the bed in the hotel room and searches his stomach frantic for the stab wound in his stomach as it all had felt all too real to him. “I have to get out of this room I am seriously losing my crap here.” David quickly grabs the jacket and keys as he done before and goes to leave only this time double makes sure there is no one there to stab him before he starts walking down the road to possibly a church or something. Thinking maybe if he pray for his own sins all the delirious things that had been happening will go away eventually. He walks past the deliver pizza man not noticing anything strange about him choosing to ignore him in hopes its just hopes its nothing more than a dream earlier.

David arrives to the church and finally has calmed down hoping that maybe god might help protect him on whatever is going on around him as he enters the church. He finds the commitment booth and goes to sit down in it as he waits for a paster to come sit with him. It takes a moment for the paster to come sit in the other booth and sits down. “Tell me what troubles you young sir” The pastor said.

“First before I tell you my troubles I must know your name otherwise I think I might be losing myself as we speak if you don’t tell me” David replies looking into the direction where the pastor is possibly sitting.

“If you must my name is James if you must know now tell me whats yours and what seems to trouble you as of today.” James replies back calmly.

David takes a breath and grips his knees a little bit and says. “I don’t know whats going on here in this place or if its just me…. But ever since I came into this town I have been lucidnating or that everything that happens feels so unreal and I don’t know if this is even real or not right now. But I am starting to develop a fear of thread or anything related to yarn perhaps.” He closes his eyes for a moment feeling out of breath as he tries to calm down.

“Sounds like to me that you are ridden with guilt possibly by mentioning your sins here you can try to ask forgiveness to god himself?” James replies calmly.

“But I don’t remember doing anything to cause such guilt why am I being the one subject to these weird lucid-nation stuff that keeps happening just now recently?” David whines as he grips his own knees harder. He seriously wants a real explanation for all the things that has been happening recently.

“Hmmm you haven’t touched any dolls recently have you perhaps?” James question out of pure curiosity.

David thinks for a moment and then remembers something. “I might have took one back when I was a kid from my own sister. But that was just when I was a kid though this doesn’t make since why now?” He looks so confused why James is even asking the such weird question about dolls however.

“It seems I must inform you that its not wise to mess with any dolls related in this town. Any time someone mess or harm one doll someone either goes missing or just disappear all together. I am sorry there isn’t muchi can do however you can try pray for forgiveness only to help relieve such problems for now.” James replies looking a little horrified what this could only mean but he doesn’t want to give anymore details of what to do. As James looks very dishearten noticing stitches appearing on his hands. “However if you must stay alive I suggest leaving town.”

“Wait what do you mean leave town why? What does dolls have to do with this?” David asked looking very confused. Things seems suddenly quiet right then. Having a feeling that something did not go right just now. He quickly leaves the confession both and walks out of the church. He doesn’t want to believe what the pastor had said or anything beyond what could be possibly be happening here in town. He starts walking back to the hotel to grab his things. After a few minutes has pass with him walking he suddenly doesn’t feel alone like he has staring behind his back making him feel very uneasy about the whole situation. Thinking of what could possibly of whats going on.

As he is nearing by the hotel he see’s a group of kids playing around in the parking lot. As he chooses to ignore them in favor of getting to the hotel he shrugs thinking. “maybe they are just playing around nothing suspicious about that”. He unlocks his own door and walks in and decides to take a nap thinking maybe all of what James said is just nothing but nonsense since nothing happened to him on the way back to the hotel. As he had only nothing but stares which he couldn’t prove otherwise because no one was there every time he had looked behind himself.

By the next morning when he had gotten rest he hears knocking up front door and chooses to go answer it. When he opens the door he sees no one there but then he looks down and notices a doll and an envelop on its lap, curious he picks up the envelop and starts reading it. After a few min. Of reading it there was horror spread across his face. He runs to grab his things out of the room and rushes to go check out. He throw his things into his car and goes to the store. Thinking “ok lets get some supplies and get the HECK OUT OF HERE!!!”. Once he got up to the store he tries his best to look calm as possible although its failing him a bit. Once he gets done grabbing stuff to check out. HE rushes to his car failing to notice there are kids nearby the car. He throw his things into the car and starts hitting the gas pedal. “THUMP!!” He stops thinking “oh no….who did I hit…..” He gets out of the car to go check to find a child down on the ground behind him. He goes to check the child as chill goes down his spine suddenly. As the body of the child appears not to be a child at all. In fact its a doll body suddenly the child doll grabs him as the doll starts laughing. HE starts freaking out to get the doll to let him go as he starts screaming not noticing other people are gathering around him. All of them being silent.

He starts hearing whispers around himself as others looked at him, when he stops screaming still struggling to get the doll child to let go. Suddenly there is a rip sound as it appears he has ripped the doll child hands off. The whispers gets louder as it starts sounding like they are blaming him for everything he has just done just now. But he doesn’t know what he had done. Suddenly a lone figure appears in front of him walking forward and suddenly speaking.

“Elisabeth! My dear wonderful child what are you doing?” the figure tilts their head innocently towards the doll child that is sitting in front of him as horror is struck on his face.

“I was having fun lilly I figured we a new person for our collection.” The doll child smiles up at lilly as the scary figure kneels down to put the doll child hands back together. He suddenly remembers this is dangerous to be here especially if this child survived getting hit by the car and tries to back away fast. But was caught by the crowd that gathered around and has grabbed him in place preventing him from getting away.

“Ah what a fine boy he is too.” Lilly smiles wickedly as she moves in front of him. She leans in close to whisper in his ear. “Don’t think of escaping your part of us now weather you like it or not.” Suddenly pain bloomed fast in his stomach as he starts freaking out. He looks down and sees lilly’s hands in his stomach as he suddenly collapse.

He wakes up screaming all the sudden in the hospital as nurses rushed in to tie him down. He keeps struggling trying to get out of their grip. He doesn’t believe this is reality now with the number of times he has re-woken up and tries to make for an escape. But with the amount of nurses in the room holding him down he could not get far. As the next moment he felt a small poke on his neck causing his eyes to slowly roll back as he goes limp in the nurses arms, making him still allowing the nurses to strap him down to the bed.

Few weeks later there appears reports of him getting checked into the asylum. But suddenly weeks later after that, When he finally gets a therapist he ends up threatening them in attempt to get away from the person from whatever he is seeing. As he tries to rip his own flesh off of his arm stating he must get rid of the stitches on his skin. Leaving the Doctors no choice but to put him in a straight jacket to prevent him from tearing anymore of his own skin. But the very next day the reports flooded in stating he went missing leaving only a doll body behind with blood dripping down from its eyes as a pool of blood appears under its body.

Hope you guys like the story if you guys are more interested of what happened in the last previous two storys your more then welcome to check them out.

part 1: https://artfighterblog.tumblr.com/post/166547022984/hello-there-welcome-to-the-tale-of-the-doll

part 2: https://artfighterblog.tumblr.com/post/179624734429/artfighterblog-it-all-began-about-a-month-ago

also guys i am going to be start posting cool stuff over in this one little shop here i am planning on doing cute little guys n stuff. from the horror story you guys may like and also doing some landscape drawings. if you wanna check out some merch stuff for fun.

https://teespring.com/stores/little-creations

also check out our face book over here too and check out when my buddy will live stream doing games and stuff. i’ll try to find time to live stream when i can but i won’t get to do it all the time.

https://www.facebook.com/StupidCatStudios/?ref=page_internal

anyways hope you guys have an awsome halloween and have a good haunting evening =D

#blood #gore #doll #horror story #doll keeper

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cobblepot-comfort · 5 years

Text

The Rescue Chapter 2- Well, This is Awkward!

Well, This is Awkward!

Oswald had never been the most patient person.

He really shouldn’t have tried to get out of bed before he was ready.

Jim warned him that he should be careful.

“You have extensive injuries, Oz,” he’d told him. “You still need to take it easy.”

But oh no - Oswald Cobblepot always knew best. The Penguin’s stubborn pride always got the better of him.

Before Jim could stop him he had flung back the covers, swung out of bed and started to hobble forward unsteadily.

He didn’t get far, of course.

It was fortunate that Jim happened to have come back into the room - after a ‘comfort break’ he just couldn’t put off any longer - and was two steps ahead of him, catching him before he could hit the floor. Oswald fell straight into Jim’s embrace, surrendering reluctantly and slumping heavily inside his arms.

“Now - will you listen to me Cobblepot?” Jim growled, hoisting Oswald up and back onto the bed with a groan.

“Jim ...I ...just wanted…..to…..”

“Kill yourself?”

“Ha ha! No...I...”

Oswald’s speech was cut short as he gasped in pain, his breath taken from him. He found out it still hurt pretty badly when he laughed.

“Oh Oswald, you see what you did?! Now be quiet and take it easy! That’s an order.”

Jim lifted Oswald’s legs back into bed and pulled the covers over him, tucking him up inside.

He put his hands on either side of the supine figure, trapping him inside the sheets. His helpless captive glared back at him indignantly.

“Fine!” he sighed tetchily, rolling his eyes and tightening his lips.

“That’s the way. Now - I’m calling Lee,” Jim said firmly.

“No, Jim!” Oswald protested crabbily. “I’m perfectly all right!”

“Listen to me! You could have torn your stitches. And you could get an infection. For God’s sake Ozzy...what am I going to do with you?”

“Oh - erm - Jim…” Oswald ventured coyly.

“What?!” Jim snapped impatiently.

“You just called me ‘Ozzy’.”

Jim floundered for a second. “Oh - erm - did I?” he said, as casually as he could.

“Yes, James. You did.” Oswald peered up at Jim with a new glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Well ...it must just have been a slip of the tongue. You were really ticking me off y’know. Don’t go reading anything into it.”

“Hmmm. A slip of the tongue, you say?” Oswald replied smoothly, raising his ebony brows and glancing over Jim suggestively. He ran his own tongue over his lips thoughtfully.

Jim felt himself weaken. That moist, pink tongue....wetting those sweet, sensuous lips….

”Damn you Cobblepot !” he thought. “You provocative bird-haired beauty!”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly to regain his composure.

“Well anyway - whatever it was,” he resumed sternly, “I’m calling Lee NOW…and don’t move a muscle without asking me first, OK?”

Oswald smiled sweetly and fluttered his lashes. “Oh, Detective. So masterful!” he said silkily.

“Ha ha! Seriously, Oswald - just stay put, don’t move and TRY to behave yourself while I make this call…”

Jim turned away and began tapping in Lee’s number, trying hard to fight his arousal….

Soon afterwards….

Dr Thompkins arrived promptly, exchanging brief glances with Jim. His look was apologetic and hers was longsuffering - quelle surprise.

“I’m sorry - but he would try and get out of bed….”

“I thought you were supposed to be watching him!” Lee reprimanded through gritted teeth.

She was filling up the syringe with strong anaesthetic, in preparation for Oswald’s emergency surgery. Torn stitches! He could well start to lose blood again and get an infection ... the crazy fool! Antibiotics next, just to be on the safe side….

She could hardly believe she was doing this for a depraved sociopath like Oswald Cobblepot.

What with Jim’s insane, inexplicable crush on this gangster (which he didn’t seem to realise she knew about) and now this - it was a wonder she didn’t go mad herself….

But as Jim had said - when all was said and done, this criminal was still a human being. She had to treat him just like any other patient in her care. And Jim clearly saw something in him that she and a whole load of other people didn’t.

She just hoped he wouldn’t come to regret this act of kindness. If Cobblepot helped put away Galavan - well, that would be something...but that’s if they could trust him, which somehow, she doubted….

“I know, I know - but I had to go to the bathroom, I told him to stay put. I was only gone a minute - but he’s so damn stubborn!”

There was angst and remorse as well as exasperation in Jim’s tone and expression. Lee thought maybe she’d been a little too harsh. He was always having to apologise for something, and she had to admit that he wasn’t always to blame. He seemed to be completely under the crime lord’s spell.

“Ok, never mind,” she shrugged, “All that matters is that we put this right - ok?” She smiled and placed her hand on Jim’s arm in a placating gesture.

Jim’s face relaxed and he smiled appreciatively. “Thanks,” he rasped. “Look - Lee, I really appreciate this…”

“Yes Jim, so you already told me, you don’t have to keep thanking me!” she laughed dismissively.

Just then a weak but urgent cry summoned their immediate attention.

“Erm..Hello? Excuse me! Miss - erm I mean Dr, Thompkins? I....seem to be bleeding again….”

It was touch and go.

Oswald had broken a lot of stitches. Lee had to work fast.

Jim sat beside him, holding his hand reassuringly, while Lee quickly but carefully injected him.

The drug she administered was a potent narcotic - designed to work fast in making the patient feel calm, sleepy and comfortably numb.

Oswald’s eyes started to glaze, and his grip on Jim’s hand began to relax. Jim took Oswald’s hand in both of his, keeping a firm but gentle hold and stroking Oswald’s palm soothingly with his thumb.

“That - feels nice,” Oswald sighed drowsily. He looked up at Jim and their gazes locked, Oswald struggling to keep his drooping eyelids open and maintain his focus on Jim’s face.

“That’s it, Oswald - don’t fight it, just go to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up….”

Lee began to load her needle with surgical thread.

“Jim,” Oswald gasped, his grip suddenly tightening around Jim’s hand.

“Hey, now, take it easy Oz, Lee’s not going to hurt you…she’s just going to mend your…..”

“No ...not that ...I.. want you Jim,” Oswald panted urgently, blinking frantically.

“Erm, heh,” Jim laughed awkwardly, aware that his face must have gone a deep shade of puce. He was embarrassed for sure, but that wasn’t all….he also couldn’t avoid going hard in a very personal place….

“Now, calm down Oswald - just relax and go to sleep,” he resumed levelly, stroking Oswald’s hand rhythmically.

“Yes....Jim ...darling….” Oswald murmured. He gave Jim a sweet little smile and his eyes flickered closed.

Jim’s heart skipped a beat.

This was awkward!

Hearing Oswald say he wanted him and then calling him ‘darling’ overwhelmed him - but he could have waited until they were alone!

He tried to tell himself that it was the medication talking, not Oswald. And that’s what he chose to tell Lee, playing it down as much as he could.

Jim could see that Lee was as unconvinced as he was - although her lips agreed, her eyes told a totally different story. He knew his face was still blushing and his own eyes must clearly give him away.

Lee was both professional and compassionate. He had always known that and these were among the qualities he admired the most about her. They had made him fall for her and believe that she might be ‘the one’.

But that was before he’d been forced to acknowledge his true feelings for the other ‘raven haired beauty’ in his life.

The natural beauty with the devil’s eyes now lay here on his sickbed - but he was not so helpless when seducing Jim with his wicked, winsome ways. For a moment, Jim wondered what the hell he was doing here.

But then he remembered why.

The comatose person in the bed wasn’t the Penguin, notorious crime lord. He was Ozzy, a human being with a heart and soul, and the most beautiful, bewitching face he had ever beheld. Now this human needed Jim’s love, support and protection - as well as justice - all of which he was damn well going to get if this detective had anything to do with it.

Jim held onto Oswald’s hand while Lee dutifully and efficiently stitched him up.

He made out that Oswald still hadn’t loosened his grip - but in truth it was Jim who didn’t want to let go.

“Well - that was tricky. He tried his best to undo my good work. You’d think he had a death wish!” Lee observed, once she had finished stitching and applying clean bandages.

“But he should be ok now,” she added quickly, seeing Jim’s alarmed expression. His face had gone from a deep shade of red to a whiter shade of pale in an instant.

“I’ll just give him some antibiotics in case of infection. But he’ll be fine now, don’t worry.”

“Ah - good,” Jim sighed, feeling the colour return to his face and the breath to his body. “That’s great, Lee, thanks again!”

“No problem, Jim,” Lee answered brightly. “And...Jim, please, make sure you look after yourself too. Um, you know, I’m running out of excuses for why you’re not turning in to work. They are bound to start to suspect something…”

“Naaa, it’s ok. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. If anyone asks, just say I’m out of town following up leads on Galavan - which of course I sort of am…..” Jim smiled sheepishly.

“OK, whatever,” Lee shrugged. “Well, anyway Jim, I’d better be going now ... actually, maybe you should come down with a very bad dose of the flu. I’ll tell Harvey, he’ll spread the word - and if he texts you or calls again, I suggest you lay it on thick. That should buy you some more time.”

“Thanks Lee. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Once Oswald starts getting up and about I can start coming in again. I just don’t want to leave him yet - not while he’s still like this.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks for understanding. And, Lee...erm, if you hear anything more on the search for Oswald’s mother, please let me know.”

“Of course.”

After Lee had gone, Jim went back to the bedside and sat there for a while, staring down at his charge.

He obsessively watched Oswald’s chest rise and fall until he was satisfied that he was continuing to breathe normally and regularly.

Jim sighed with relief.

“You see what trouble you’re causing, Cobblepot?” he rasped, tenderly smoothing Oswald’s unkempt raven locks away from his face and pulling the covers up around him. “Still - you’re worth it,” he added more softly.

They were alone now. He was free to express what he felt at last.

He bent down and pressed his lips gently to Oswald’s forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly.

Then he sat up and stretched himself, groaning and yawning with exhaustion. It wa sonly then that he realised how tired he had become.

His feet were aching, his head hurt and his body was stiff from lack of sleep.

He sighed heavily and unlaced and removed his shoes, then unbuttoned his shirt collar, ready for another restless session in the chair beside the bed.

Then he thought, why not get more comfortable - and also give Oswald more comfort in the process?

So he climbed carefully up onto the bed. He moved in close to Oswald and put his arm across him protectively.

Jim wondered how Oswald might react if he woke up to find his police detective friend lying there next to him. If he asked him what he was doing there, Jim knew he wouldn’t be afraid to tell him why - not any more. Life was just too short.

Besides - keeping Oswald warm and helping him to heal, physically and emotionally, was his main priority.

But he didn’t realise that this was a two way street - Oswald had always been one to return a favour.

Jim soon fell into a sound sleep - soothed by the pacifying presence of the one he truly loved.

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lamptracker · 6 years

Text

FIC: Someone Else’s Star (Peter Parker/Reader)

Wait a minute, what’s this? An actual fic??

Yep. I know it’s been a bit. And I know I have a million other irons in the fire. BUT, okay, for some weird reason I’ve been on a big late-90s music kick lately. That includes country, oddly. (I don’t normally go for country, which is why it’s odd.) Spotify recommended the song I loosely based this fic on and I had to write it.

Anyway

FIC: Someone Else’s Star

Pairing: Peter Parker/Female Reader (not at first)

Summary: All the reader wants is to be in love, so she wishes on stars every night. But is she wishing on someone else’s star?

Author’s note: Inspired by the song “Someone Else’s Star” by Bryan White.

Edited because my dumb ass forgot to tag people:

@lemirabitur @purelyfictionallife @ocaptainmycaptainrogers @damnhisfaceisliketheskyatnight @stephie-senpai @unicorn-princess-1999

I guess I must be wishing on someone else’s star

Seems like someone else keeps getting what I’m wishing for

Why can’t I be as lucky as those other people are?

Oh, I guess I must be wishing on someone else’s star

Every night, when the sky was finally pitch-dark, you performed your nightly routine:

You went to your window, located the first star, and wished on it.

You wished for the same thing, every single time: You wanted desperately to fall in love. That wasn’t so much to ask, now was it?

But every time you did, the next time you went to school there was a new couple.

Once, Betty Brandt revealed she was dating a senior boy. Flash and Amber, who’d been flirting for weeks, finally made it official another time. Cindy and Abraham started dating a few weeks ago.

You were starting to think that, just maybe, you were accidentally wishing on someone else’s star.

Last night all but confirmed that for you.

You stared out the window, found the first star, and repeated your nightly wish:

“Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight. I wish someone were in love with me.”

The next day, you went about your daily routine for the most part. You walked down to the corner to wait for your friend Peter, then the two of you would walk to the subway together. You’d ride to school, making idle chit-chat about whatever projects you were working on (and, when you were out of earshot of other people, he’d tell you about his patrol the night before).

Of course you knew Peter was Spider-Man. He’d told you quite by accident one night a few months ago - he’d been injured in a fight near your apartment and needed someone to bandage it. He went to your apartment, completely freaking you out when he knocked on the window. He thought he could get away with not removing his mask but his voice sounded too familiar to you. So, after you applied Neosporin and a bandage to the cut on his arm, you reached up and pulled off the mask. You freaked out, he freaked out (because you were freaking out; he’s a sympathetic freak-out-er). He swore you to secrecy and you obliged because, who was going to believe you anyway?

Once you got to school you would wave, go to your lockers, and then attend your morning classes; you would reconvene at lunch and sit with Michelle and Ned and some other members of the Decathlon.

This day, though, a strange sight greeted you in the lunchroom:

Ned and Michelle were sitting next to each other. Not so weird.

What was weird was that Ned had his arm around Michelle’s shoulders; she was resting her head on his shoulder as they talked. Ned turned his head and gently kissed her forehead; she smiled a small, shy smile.

“Oh, come on!” Peter, who’d just walked up behind you, exclaimed. “What the crap, Ned?? How long has this been going on? Wait… is this why you couldn’t come over and watch The Last Jedi with me last night?”

“Get over it, Parker.” Michelle tossed a napkin at him. “We’ve only been dating since yesterday. He walked me home from the bus stop, and then… we kissed.”

“Yeah,” Ned added, smiling widely. “I don’t really know what came over me then. But it just… it felt right. Like… help me out here, MJ, like…”

“The missing piece.”

“Yeah! The missing piece of the Lego Death Star.”

Michelle shook her head. “I was going to say a puzzle, but we can nerd out if you want to. Anyway, we went for a walk and talked it out, and… we’re giving it a shot.”

Your jaw dropped as you fumbled with your carton of milk; Peter gave them an odd look.

“Well, um… congratulations? I guess,” you said as you finally got the milk open.

That night, you sighed as you looked out your window, searching for that first star. Propping your elbow onto your windowsill, you rested your chin in your hand as you finally spotted it.

“Not this is going to do me any good,” you muttered. “I mean, Ned and Michelle? Didn’t see that one coming. Anyway,” you cleared your throat, “star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight.” You sighed deeply again. “I wish someone would fall in love with me. I wish I could have a boyfriend. I wish… I wish I had what Ned and Michelle have. I wish I was actually wishing on the right star this time.”

You started to turn away from the window, when suddenly a red-and-black gloved hand reached up from under it and softly knocked. You jumped in surprise for a moment - what the hell? I live on the seventh floor! - before you realized it was Peter.

“Parker!” you hissed as you opened the window to let him through. “What are you doing, you scared the crap out of me!”

“S-sorry,” he muttered as he crawled through the window, collapsing onto your bed. “I… I need you to patch me up again.”

You shook your head as you pulled the first-aid kit from under your bed. “You need to either be more careful or ask Mr. Stark to put extra armor into that suit,” you said. “This is the third time in the last week. Now, where is it?”

“My arm. Guy came after me with a knife, I wasn’t fast enough. He just nicked me but still.” He pulled his mask off and pressed the release button on his suit; he pulled the left arm down. Sure enough, there was a three-inch-long gash on his bicep.

You shook your head as you got to work patching him up, rubbing the wound with peroxide (he hissed in pain when you did this) and examining it closely.

“Hm. You don’t need stitches, that’s good.” You carefully spread some Neosporin on the cut, covering it with some gauze. “Because, have you seen me try to sew something by hand? Not pretty.”

“You’re pretty,” Peter muttered, barely audibly, as you taped the gauze onto his arm.

You cocked your head to one side as you looked at him. “Hmmm?”

Peter’s head shot up; panic filled his eyes. “What? Huh? Nothing…”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you smoothed the last of the tape over his arm. “You sure, Pete?”

“I’m sure,” said Peter, an air of false confidence in his voice as he pressed the button that tightened his suit.

You shrugged. “Huh. Okay.” You started to clean up your supplies; as you were shoving the kit back under your bed, Peter suddenly grasped your wrist.

“Okay, I’m not sure.”

“What? Peter, what are you talking about?”

Peter’s tongue darted out as he licked his lips slightly. “Listen,” he started. “This isn’t easy for me, so just be nice, okay? Um… I like you.”

“Well, we’re friends,” you said, oblivious to what he was actually trying to say. “So… you must obviously like me, I mean…”

Peter shook his head, auburn curls bouncing slightly. “Yeah, no, I know that. But… I like you. Like… like you, like you.”

A confused look crossed your face as you stared at him; his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. “Okay,” you said slowly. “I mean, I’m not stupid. But I just don’t get it. I mean...It’s as clear as mud, Peter, could you explain it to me?”

“I am trying to,” Peter huffed in annoyance, “but the words, they’re not… I can’t… I’m just going to have to show you, I guess.”

You started to ask him what exactly he was trying to say, or show you, when he cupped your cheek in his free hand and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

About a million thoughts started whirling through your brain the second your lips met his.

Wait a minute. THAT’s what he meant?

He likes me as more than a friend?

Why me? Why am I so special?

He is awfully cute. And sweet.

Wait… you’re telling me I actually wished on the right star this time?

You slid an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to you, as you parted your lips slightly to allow his tongue access.

“See what I’m trying to say?” Peter said after you finally pulled apart.

You giggled, resting your forehead on his. “I think I get it now, yeah.”

He smiled at you, chocolate brown eyes twinkling. “So… am I supposed to officially ask you, or do I just assume you’re my girlfriend now, or… I mean, I’ve never done this before.”

“Peter,” you said softly. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“Okay.” Peter let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s-that’s good. Um… can we kiss again?”

“We can kiss as many times as you want.”

“Can we just do it once, but keep it going forever?”

You smiled shyly at him. “As much as I would love that, I would think at some point we’d need air, right? Unless you have gills I don’t know about.”

“No, Mr. Stark hasn’t perfected the technology yet.”

You laughed softly; Peter’s eyes crinkled slightly at the edges as he smiled at you.

“Promise me something?” he asked quietly. “Can you promise that you’ll never stop smiling? You just… you’re so beautiful when you smile. Not that you’re not all the time, but when you smile you’re really pretty, and…”

Shaking your head, you cut off his rambling with another kiss; this one is more firm than the tentative first one. “I’ll do my best, Peter,” you replied.

“Okay. And I will promise to do my best to be the best boyfriend ever.”

You kissed his cheek as you ran a hand through his soft curls. “You already are, Pete.”

Peter smiled again at you. “Okay. Um… I should go, though. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sounds great, Pete. Text me when you get home, okay?”

Peter shot you a playfully confused look.

“What, I’m not allowed to worry about my boyfriend?” you asked teasingly.

Peter chuckled. “I guess I should be worried if you stop worrying about me.” He stood up and took your hand, helping you to a standing position. “I will text you when I get home. Bye.”

“Bye, Peter.” You leaned forward, kissing him softly; he rubbed a gloved thumb across your cheekbone. Then he shot you a smile as he pulled his mask back on and disappeared out your still-open window.

You watched as he swung from rooftop to rooftop; swinging until you could no longer see him. Sighing happily, you searched the night sky for that first star again. Some of its friends had come to join it, but you wanted to find that one.

When you were confident you’d spotted it, you pointed up at it.

“Thank you,” you said, “for granting me my wish.” Still smiling, you closed your window, shut off your light, and tucked yourself into bed.

Just as you were settling down, you got a text:

Peter: ok i’m home :) see you in the morning

You typed back a quick response - see you then. Sweet dreams Pete - and fell asleep, head full of thoughts of your boyfriend. You couldn’t wait to see where the star you’d wished on would take you.

You were glad you finally found your star.

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #no really why so much 90s country SPOTIFY geez

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langsty-langst-lance · 6 years

Note

Random question: Can you do a high school au? (Sorry to bother you, Big fan!)

No bothers, just happy you like my writing ☺️☺️

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Lance wasn’t completely sure where to go. It was his first day of Junior year and he was officially an upper classman meaning he was in a whole new section of the school. He had to try and find his home room- room 273- but he was aimlessly walking through the 100’s with no idea how to get to the higher numbers.

Lance was about to give up and ask a teacher when he saw his best friend Hunk on the other side of the hallway looking lost yet slightly more sure than Lance. Lance weaved through the crowd to get to Hunk.

“Hey, Hunk!” He shouted as he ran up to him, making him jump a mile into the air.

“Lance! Oh geez, you scared me,” he said clutching his chest dramatically.

Lance held the map of the school up to Hunks face. “Where’s room 273? ‘Cause I’ve been looking for 5 minutes an nothin’,” he asked.

Hunk squinted at the map as he studied it. “Hmmm, aren’t the 200’s up stairs? My class is 250, so we must be close to each other. Let’s go upstairs.”

It took 5 more minutes of aimlessly walking around confused before they finally found the hallway and walked into their classes. As Lance sat down he saw all the people from last year plus a couple new ones. Kids ran around and shouted as the hugged friends they hadn’t seen for three months. Lance knew a lot of people here, he hugged and said hi, but he didn’t necessarily *know* them. Not as much as he wished he did. He knew a lot of kids but didn’t know a lot about them. And they didn’t know a lot about him. No one knew the disastrous home he came from or the hideous thoughts that ran through his head all the time or the cuts that sometimes littered his arm when he was having a bad day. He wasn’t completely sure he wanted any of them to know.

The idea of letting someone know seemed unrealistic- like a dream he wished he could have but never knew how to achieve. So instead, he hid it. He hid it all with a smile and some jokes and a cocky personality all the teachers hated.

The greetings were interrupted when the bell rang and the teacher instructed them to sit down. She gave them all assigned seats and started the lecture on how things were going to work now that they were Juniors. Lance lost interest in 30 seconds. He was twirling his hands and shaking his legs while staring at the classroom and the people in it- anything to keep him from dying of boredom.

Lance’s eyes rested upon the boy sitting next to him. He had long, dark hair and skin paler than the moon. His cropped red jacket was a strange fashion choice but Lance appreciated the bravery. He was sure he had seen this kid before, only a couple times while walking through the hallway. He may have had a class with him Freshman year but he didn’t know his name. The boys head was down as he drew little doodles in his notebook. His hair flopped down in front of his eyes as they darted back and forth.

The boy must have felt Lance staring at him because he glanced in his direction. Lance’s eyes went wide as he quickly looked back to the teacher who was still talking about Junior year.

Lance drummed on the table with his fingers. He needed something to do. He was so bored. Just sitting here listening was absolutely agonizing. Lance decided to take a page from the boy next to him and doodle in his notebook.

It started off simple, some flowers in a garden with a sun shining above. But the sun got covered up with dark clouds and the flowers drowned in rain. He scribbled helplessly at the paper, his mind ringing with thoughts.

He was lost in the doodles until he felt eyes on him. He looked over to see the boy staring at him and his drawing. The boy quickly glanced away and Lance shut his notebook. That was enough doodling, he decided.

The day went on and the days kept coming. Everyday he sat in Homeroom. Everyday he listened to a different lecture. Everyday he took out his notebook, made some new doodles, write down some feelings. And everyday he could feel it, feel the stares from the boy next to him who couldn’t seem to mind his own business. What did he want? Why did he keep looking over all the time?

Lance’s drawings became more vigorous and he drew with a fury he didn’t know was in him. A stitch here, a broken heart there, rain on the corners, a tiny face doodle, a cut just below the eye.

One day was especially bad. The night before things had exploded at his house. In a desperate attempt to get away from it all he hid in his room, tears running down his cheeks until he house quieted. Once it did Lance still couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He stared at the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest, his mind racing. He couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop the voices running through his head.

Eventually he gave in to them. Anything to make them shut up and let him sleep. It was 2 am, everyone was asleep, the world was dark, and his head couldn’t figure out how to shut up. He grabbed the scissors from his desk. He relieved pain. Finally, his mind let him sleep.

The next morning he remembered to wear a jacket to school. It wasn’t cold enough for a jacket but not so hot that he would get really strange stares. That day in homeroom he drew some more in his notebook, darker than most of the other days. Next to him the boy stared at him. Lance’s mouth drew into a scowl as he leaned over and angled his arm so the boy couldn’t see.

Lance drew harder on his paper. His bag-ridden eyes focused on the paper in front of hi.M. He heard the teacher scoff and he looked up. She was staring at him, waiting for him to pay attention. Lance placed his pencil down on his desk and watched the teacher.

As he tried to listen he heard his pencil roll of his desk and fall to the floor. Lance bent down to grab it but found that the boy next to him was already doing so. He grabbed the pencil off the floor and handed it to Lance with a small smile. Lance smiled back and reached out to grab the pencil. As he did, his jacket sleeve slipped up, just enough to show some of the markings the night before. The boy glanced down at them then at Lance’s notebook. Lance grabbed his pencil and quickly yanked his arm back, shut his notebook, and folded his arms in on himself. Had he just slipped up?

The day continued on. He hung out with Hunk, walked to the bus stop with Pidge who was an old friend that had just started high school. Home wasn’t any better that day but he got through it better this time.

The next day in home room he didn’t have time to take out his notebook when someone entered through the door. It was a tall man with black hair. Lance recognized him as an old student who came back to work temporarily in the office.

“May I have Lance McClain for a second? He needs to go to the office,” he asked the teacher.

All around Lance students snickered as he stood up.

“Ooh, someone’s in trouble.”

“It’s only the first couple weeks of school and you’re already getting called down?”

“What did you do now?”

Next to him Lance felt the boy stare at him intently, his dark eyes hidden behind the hair that fell on top of them. Lance glanced down at him before following the office guy out of the classroom.

Once they got out and the door was shut the man turned to look at him. “Hi Lance, I’m Shiro,” he said as he stuck a hand out to shake.

“Uh, hi,” Lance said as he awkwardly shook back. “Am I in trouble? I haven’t done anything, I swear.”

Shiro laughed lightly. “No, no, you’re not in trouble. The guidance counselor just wants to have a talk with you.”

Lance wasn’t sure why the guidance counselor wanted to talk to him but he didn’t bother asking. It was a quiet walk to the office as Lance followed behind Shiro. Once he got there Lance followed Shiro into the guidance councilors room.

“Please, come in, have a seat,” she said as she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Lance sat down slowly as Shiro closed the door yet stayed in the room. Lance glanced down at the desk. A plaque said her name was Ms. Scott. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Now, Mr. McClain, if you don’t mind, Shiro will be listening into our conversation for… multiple reasons. One being he may want to be involved in these kind of matters.” Lance wasn’t sure what “kind of matters” this actually was but he didn’t press.

“Now, Lance, you’re here because we’re a little worried about you. Tell me, how are things going at home? Are they good?” Lance nodded slowly, unsure of wether to tell the truth or not. “And there’s nothing… bothering you? Anything on your mind? You’re sleeping well?” Lance nodded slowly again. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he didn’t like it.

“Lance, I just want to be very clear with you here, I need you to tell me the truth. I got an anonymous tip saying that you may be in harm or in danger by others or yourself and it is my responsibility as the schools guidance counselor to take action,” she stopped for a second and stared at Lance in the eyes before continuing. “So please be honest and answer my questions truthfully or I will have to require further investigation if I believe that you are not telling me the whole story.”

Lance swallowed hard. Maybe a tiny part of him wanted people to know but never like this. He was being put under so much pressure, he hated it.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Ms. Scott said. “So tell me, how are you feeling? Do you feel nervous? Anxious? Are you moving around all the time?”

Lance nodded slowly. “A little I guess.”

Ms. Scott nodded. “And do you ever feel… depressed? Alone? Like you have no one to talk to?”

Lance froze on that one. He felt like a dear in headlights. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Uhh, I- um, I guess,” he stuttered.

Ms. Scott nodded once more. “Are there any reasons you can think of as to why you are feeling this way? Maybe at home or with friends?” She asked.

Lance twiddled with his hands. “Yeah… I guess.”

“Lance, I want you to be sure about your answers. No more ‘I guess’, tell me how you feel, what’s going on.” She said. It took Lance some time but he got to it. It was slow at first, just rambling and stuttering but more stuff spilled out quicker and quicker as his chest felt the relief of getting it out. He never thought it could feel so good. He was so desperate for that feeling that he told her most of the situation- anything as long as he could feel some of the weight being lifted off his shoulders.

Ms. Scott nodded throughout the talk. She asked questions, gave insight. At the end of it all she smiled a little sadly at Lance. “Now, Lance, by law I am required to turn all this into the police and allow them to take care of this situation. I just want to let you know that.”

Lance’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want that. Yet a part of him did. He wasn’t sure which part to listen to so he said nothing, only gave a slow nod.

“I just want you to be aware of that. The police are going to have to check this out and make sure that you are no longer in danger of others or yourself. Okay?” Lance nodded solemnly. Ms. Scott gave him a small smile. “I’m proud of you, Lance. You did a good job today, coming in and speaking with me. I appreciate your cooperation. If you would like you are welcome to stay inside the office and relax for a little before heading back to class.”

Lance nodded and walked out of the room, Shiro giving him a small smile. He sat down on one of the nurse beds. He closed his eyes and relaxed for a little. Once he felt calm and in control of his emotions he got up and walked back to class.

As he entered everyone stared. Lance gave a large smile to them, an attempt to let them know that he was not in trouble or at least got out of trouble with whatever they believed he was in the office for. As he took his seat he glanced over at the boy next to him. He had been staring at him ever he had opened the door. It was him. Lance knew it.

When the bell rang he quickly ran to catch up to the boy and yanked him aside. The boy stared at him with large eyes as Lance gave him a hard stare. “It was you, wasn’t it. You told them.”

The boy’s eyes were wide behind his dark bangs. “I’m sorry, don’t be mad, I just wanted to help, I know how it feels to be alone,” he said quickly, his hands held up as a deflection.

Lance’s anger melted as he heard what this boy had to say. Maybe he was wrong to be mad at him. Maybe he did need help and someone to talk to. Maybe this was a good thing. The boy flinched as he looks away from Lance, readying himself for a fist to the face. Instead Lance let go of him and took a step back. The boy looked at him curiously. Lance gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

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Idk what you wanted bc you weren’t super specific so you got Langst. In all fairness, this is a Langst blo so if that’s not what you wanted you came to the wrong place lmao. I hope you like it! I don’t think it was meant to be that dark but it was oh well. Hope you enjoy :))

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