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lunarbuck · 10 months ago

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Anything/Everything

a/n: this is literally incoherent rambling... sorry. this is mostly just coming from the fact that i feel very lost rn so sorry in advance for that

not beta'd and barely edited, any and all mistakes are my own

bucky barnes & f!reader (any race) have a conversation on a fire escape

no warnings apply

my masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary

The air is crisp and cold as you climb out the window and onto the fire escape. The metal railing is cool against your palms, grounding you to the moment. There’s too much smog in the city to see any stars other than the North Star.

Tonight, just like every night, you make a wish. You wish for things to be different, for someone to come sweep you off your feet and take you to Neverland. To take you away from all of this. And tonight, just like every night, you know that won’t happen. That doesn’t keep you from wishing, though. From gazing up at that bright ball of light in the smoky sky and wishing with all your might, for someone. Anyone, to come save you.

Your fire escape is small, but there’s enough room for a little picnic chair, which you settle into after making your wish. The sounds of the city echo and muddle together into a familiar symphony, the background to your nightly ruminating.

There’s just enough light coming from your bedroom window to journal by, and though summer is fading to fall, you can bear the cooler temperatures for long enough to do tonight’s entry. You pop the cap off your pen, flip to an open page and jot down the date.

Just as you start writing your entry, you hear the familiar sound of boots on the fire escape below you. You don’t need to peek down to know who it is. Well, technically, you don’t know his name, but you know his face. Those piercing blue eyes, that dimpled chin.

He moved in last month but no one in the building knows his name. He’s like a ghost. But you’ve come to think of him as your ghost, since every night, he comes out just like you do. You’ve come up with your own story of him, that he’s wishing on the stars just like you are. That he’s just as lost, just as confused, as you are.

You return your focus to your journal, scratching out your thoughts as they pour out of your head. You’re so focused that you miss the ghost from downstairs walking up toward you. You miss him taking a seat a few steps away from the top. You miss the way his familiar blue eyes trace your features, committing them to memory, and the small smile that graces his lips for just a moment.

“What do you wish for?” He asks, his voice cutting through the night. You jolt. The timbre of his voice makes you shiver, it sends electricity sparking through every nerve in your body.

All you can do is stare at the ghostly man in front of you.

“What do you wish for,” he asks again, this time more gently.

“Anything,” you whisper.

“What do you write about?” You tip your head from the man up to the sky.

“Everything.” Silence falls between the two of you before you take a deep breath, returning your gaze to the man. “How did you know I was making wishes?” A whisper of a grin that disappears as quickly as it came crosses his lips.

“Because I’m making wishes too.” If this was anyone else, you’d make a joke, break the fierce tension that’s fallen in the space between you and the ghost. But you can’t help but feel like he can see right through you, right down to your soul.

Now, it’s your turn to ask, “What do you wish for?”

His eyes trace your face leaving a burning trail in their wake. “Someone.”

You slide off your chair, letting the chill of metal seep through your pajama pants. The ghost stays put.

“Who?” His blue eyes shift to your surroundings, the sky, eventually settling on the moon.

“I’m not sure anymore.” This moment, so full of vulnerability, makes your throat tighten. “I lost him a long time ago, I think. I guess I just thought he’d come back. He always came back.” The ghost in front of you looks more human with every passing second.

His dark hair, clipped close on the sides, is ruffled like he can’t stop running his fingers through it. His shirt is wrinkled and has signs of loose threads at the seams from years of wear and work. His eyes crinkle in the corners, frown lines litter his forehead.

“I hope your wish comes true,” you reply, meaning it. The ghost shakes his head.

“It won’t, but thank you.”

“So why do you keep wishing if you know it won’t come true?”

“Just in case.”

Just in case.

“My wishes never come true,” you confess. “But I can’t stop myself from coming out here anyways, I can’t help but feel the pull.” The ghost nods his understanding.

“Just in case.”

“Just in case.” Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment, you feel the world stop spinning. You feel time freeze. Everything slows, blurs, disappears, until it is just you and him.

“Who are you?” He whispers, brows furrowing.

“I don’t know anymore,” you reply. “Who are you?” You barely even hear the words as they leave your lips.

“I’m trying to remember.”

I am discontinuing my taglist. please follow @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified when I post new fics.

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thecreditsroll · 7 months ago

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Remember what they took from you

If we got a proper season 2 and 3 Mujika/Emma would be canon im sure of it

#the promised neverland #west has fallen #billions must cry

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hello-there · 7 days ago

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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

#tumblr communities #communities

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months ago

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 124

Part 1 Part 123

“Should I get a job?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t want a job, is the thing, but there’s a large expanse of nothingness stretching out in front of him that needs filled. And his wallet’s been looking thin around the edges lately.

Steve hums. He’s fussing with his hair, even though the dorky little sailor hat’s going to undue all his efforts. The whole outfit’s a little dorky, honestly. Eddie loves it.

“Do you want a job?” Steve asks.

Eddie groans, sinking further into the bed. His sweatpants bunch uncomfortably around his ankles, so he kicks out his legs trying to get them to roll back down with friction from the sheets. “No,” he replies, unsurprised when it comes out whiney, like he’s a petulant child denied a sweet in the candy aisle. He feels like a petulant child, not ready to grow up and leave Neverland.

Leaning into the tantrum, Eddie pouts his lip out and looks up at Steve through his lashes. Apparently giving it up as a bad job, Steve drops his hands from his hair to shuffle over to the foot of the bed. He pulls the hems of Eddie’s pants down, fingers lingering against his ankles before dropping them.

Like some sort of angel fallen from above, Steve kneels on the bed and crawls up it, perfect face getting closer, closer, closer. Eddie puckers his lips, anticipation crawling up his throat, but Steve bypasses his mouth entirely to plant one on his forehead.

“Then don’t get a job,” he says, lips caressing Eddie’s skin. He pulls back, smiling down at Eddie. “I can support the both of us.”

Eddie’s heart flutters. It’s embarrassing, really, how gone he is. He presses his hand to his forehead in the pose of feinting wives everywhere and replies, “you’re such a big strong man.”

Moment sufficiently over, Steve shoves his shoulders hard enough that Eddie bounces a little against the mattress and rolls back off the bed. He bends down to get to their sock drawer, and Eddie tilts his head to enjoy the show.

The socks Steve pulls out our ridiculously long and hideous enough to match his whole get-up. Even when working with the bottom of the barrel, Steve Harrington’s still always on theme.

“That can’t really be your uniform,” Eddie says, grinning as Steve pulls both socks fully on and turns around to glare down at Eddie’s supine form.

“Well, it is,” Steve says, crossing his arms, like that’ll cover up anything. But then his fingers stretch out over his ribs and clutch, and it all starts to look more like a hug.

“Hey,” Eddie says, finally shuffling up and out of the bed. He stands in front of Steve, pries his hands free, and clasps them both in his own. He squeezes both, then starts rubbing his thumb against each palm the way Steve likes, trying to get Steve to meet his eyes. When he finally does, Eddie asks, “you nervous?”

Steve’s eyes slip away, but he nods because they took a silent honesty pact way back when they’d been sucked into the Upside-Down that first night. “A little,” he says, mouth twisting in on itself as he thinks. “My coworker doesn’t seem to like me much.”

Eddie scoffs, ruffling Steve’s hair until a quick tussle breaks out as he tries to protect his precious hairdo. “Then she doesn’t know you,” Eddie says, holding Steve in an unwieldy headlock that doesn’t have enough stability to last.

Steve twists and pulls free, immediately bowling Eddie over so he lands awkwardly on the bed. But he’s smiling now, victorious over his win, so it’s all worth it. Reaching with all his might, he boops Steve’s nose until it scrunches.

“You’ll do great.”

Like those are the magic words he was waiting for, Steve’s shoulders ease, and he gets through the rest of his morning routine with that same energy.

It stays with him until he’s walking through the front door, and Eddie calls, “should I start selling drugs again?”

Steve’s shoulders stiffen and he turns, already halfway outside to point at Eddie like he’s a misbehaving dog, saying, “no,” in the sternest voice he’s ever heard.

Eddie’s laughter rings through the trailer as Steve slams the front door, starts the van and drives off to his first day at his new job.

Eddie whiles away the morning, biting his nails because somehow Steve’s anxiety has transferred over to him. Even if it’s not a job, he’ll have to find something to do, lest he start to feel like a dog waiting for its master to come home.

When the lunch hour rolls around, he steals Wayne’s keys, leaves a note, and on a whim, calls up the Byers’ abode.

As a lucky turn of fate, Will’s the one that picks up with a quiet, “Byers’ residence.”

“Baby Byers!” Eddie cries, throwing Wayne’s keys up and down in the air. “Are you going to still be at home in say, ten minutes?”

Eddie fails to catch them on his third toss, and the clatter noisily to the linoleum of the kitchen floor. “Yeah, wh—”

“Great!” Eddie cuts in, bending down to pick up the keys from the ground. “See you then!”

He slams the phone down on Will’s stuttered protests and rushes out the door before Wayne can wake up and put a stop to his thievery.

He blasts music on the way to the Byers’ house, turning it down just a tick as he pulls into their driveway because while he may not care about the general denizens of Hawkins, he’s got a soft spot for the ones that live here. God forbid he wake Mama Byers up from an afternoon nap.

With that in mind, his knocks are rapid-fire, but not all that loud. They still summon Will to the door within five seconds flat. He’s dressed, but shoeless, and clearly grumpy with Eddie if the frown is anything to go by.

“Put your shoes on, baby Byers, we’ve got places to be.” Just to be annoying about it, Eddie pulls on the string connecting them repeatedly as Will bends down to slip on his shoes without untying them.

It’s not long before they’re shuffling out of the house and on the road.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?” Will asks, turning the volume down even further, on Slayer, as if that’s not some sort of sin in and of itself.

Still, Eddie loves the kid, so he tells him, “Steve started his new job today, and we’re gonna go say hi!”

Eddie slides his eyes off the road to see how that one lands. Will’s looking at him with an unimpressed expression he had to have picked up from Steve. “Does he know that?”

Eddie laughs nervously and starts tapping his fingers against the steering wheel along with the barely-audible eat eeking out of Wayne’s dusty old speakers.

“Malls have food courts, right?” Eddie asks, blowing past Will’s question entirely. “Maybe we can all have lunch!”

Will scoffs, and that one he got from both of them. Eddie’s almost proud of how snotty it sounds. But Will settles down, ready to go along with Eddie’s hairbrained scheme.

The parking lot’s already filling up by the time they pull in because Hawkins is full of a bunch of townies with nothing better to do. He pulls in right alongside them, and skips inside, Will nipping more sedately at his heels.

The place is big enough that there’s a map, smack dab at the entryway. Eddie brushes past the people loitering in front of it so he and Will can squint at it, trailing fingers and eyes until they find it, a bit of blue writing delineating an even tinier dot as an ice cream parlor. Of course, because this is Hawkins and nothing ever goes Eddie’s way, it’s on the entirely opposite side of the mall than the one he parked at. Will and Eddie spend countless minutes of their lives pushing through gawking crowds and unattended children until they finally reach their destination.

The sign out front is a tacky font on top of an even tackier turquoise, a shittily drawn anchor tying the whole thing together. The checkered tiles, and white tables damn near glisten in the fluorescent lights. Eddie barely notices any of it, because there’s two sailors arguing at the cash register. Eddie’s sailor’s got his hands on his hips and he’s pouting as Buckley of all people gestures wildly beneath the counter and reads him to rights.

Eddie stops on the threshold and watches, helplessly endeared as Steve brings out the king for a little jaunt, visible in the roll of his eyes and the tilt of his chin. But whatever he retorts must be all his Angel because Buckley belts out a laugh and then slaps both her hands over her mouth like she can shove the sound back into her throat and keep on glaring. Steve grins his private little grin and clenches his fist. Eddie can feel the effort he’s putting in to resisting the fist bump that’s carried over from all his jock tendencies.

And here, in fucking Scoops Ahoy of all places, Eddie feels himself getting choked up for all the world to see. Because all it took was one look at Steve Harrington’s smug face under that dorky little hat for his ennui to dry up: a sun to all his rain clouds.

It’s not nothingness in front of him, it’s Steve, and Will, and Uncle Wayne, and the rest of this fucked up family he’s stumbled into. It’s time to spend with the people he loves, and time to figure himself out.

And if the Upside-Down creeps its way back into their lives? All three of them will still be here, ready to plant their feet and stand firm against whatever new horror show pops up in their little cursed town. There’s not a Demo-anything that they can’t take.

And that’s a little too much for a random afternoon on a Monday so Steve tugs on the ties that bind until Steve turns, already beaming like it doesn’t matter anymore that Buckley’s back to scowling at him, arms crossed, and nose upturned like he’s a bug beneath her shoe. Steve tugs back, and they bring Will into the loop, too, feeding off each other’s presences, like always.

They’ll fight if they have to, like this; stronger together than apart, but they’ll live too.

Steve bounds around the counter, ripping off his hat like he was just waiting for an excuse, calling a quick, “I’m taking my lunch!” and not even slowing down at Buckley’s garbled complaints.

He runs clammy hands across Eddie’s arm, then Will’s, smiling like he hadn’t seen either of them in years, instead of a matter of hours. Customer service must be hell.

“How’re those corporate shackles treating you, angel?” Eddie says under his breath, dimples popping as Steve huffs. “Wanna use some of that hard earned cash to buy little old me some lunch?”

“You know I haven’t gotten paid yet, right?” Steve asks, but when Eddie bats his eyelashes, he rolls his eyes, and pushes past both of them. “Come on, Will, I saw a burger place on my way in.”

Will takes up his rightful place at Steve’s side, laughing as Eddie scrambles to catch up. “Me too, right Stevie?” he asks. “It was my idea, and I skipped lunch.”

Eddie pushes himself between them, latching onto both their elbows so he’s not left behind.

Buckley’s still yelling something, but they’re too far away to hear her now, and besides, Steve doesn’t seem to care.

They walk off into a brighter future, or at least toward a cheeseburger of some sort, and aren’t those just about the same thing?

THE END (unless my beta has other ideas)

We've got some editing to do for the ao3 publication, but this is it for Tumblr!!! I've got a few half-written ideas for on-shots off this same universe from other characters POVs that I'll probably post in the future, but this is the entirety of the fic! If any of you got this far reading this long of a fanfiction on Tumblr, I want to study you like a bug...how did you manage it?? If you've commented or added tags even once, I appreciate you. And, to the few who've been doing it fairly regularly throughout the process? This only exists because of you, and I mean that. I'm going to make another post about the UD AU once It's entirely edited and all posted on ao3, but otherwise, that's all folks! Wild that this all started from a little idea that was supposed to be a one shot <3 Also, because I think it's funny, this was the entirety of the outline I wrote for this part: "Eddie POV- IDK! Something something, Steve gets a job at scoops, Eddie thinks the shorts are so hot. He and Will go to visit him and Robin’s there and seems to hate Steve. The summer is theirs." Wow, thank you past Koko, that's so enlightening.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #this is like five times as long as any other thing i've ever written....and like ten times as long as any other thing i've written #and actually finished to the end??? Wild. How did this happen. Who am I? Anyway. I'm feeling things over this <3<3<3

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plutoswritingplanet · 1 year ago

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Lady Disdain (Captain Hook x Reader)

a/n: so i know i’ve been gone for like a year, but here, have this captain fucking hook smut jesus christ what am i doing.... (jason isaacs is hot tho, so can you blame me?)

Warnings: Dream Donging, Female Reader, Shakespeare quotes as foreplay

Summary: Dreams can be a fickle thing. You're about to discover that, as Neverland drags you into a chance encounter with the devilishly handsome Captain. (cross-posted on ao3)

The first thing that rattles you from the calm embrace of sleep, is the smell. Gone is the fain scent of a coffee you've made and left forgotten, replaced instead by seawater and fresh air. Your nose scrunches, as new sensations flood your system. And then there's light. Not from the dim lamp in your apartment, but from the sun, warm and bright, coloring the insides of your eyelids orange. Ultimately, that's what brings you back to reality. There is no way you have direct sunlight in your room, so either your roof has fallen in while you've slept, or something even weirder happened.

As you finally open your eyes, you're hit with the realization, that something weirder indeed had happened, because as your sight accommodates to the sunlight, you realizes, this isn't your room that you're standing in. No, there are rough planks underneath your bare feet, splinters just about ready to break your skin. The wind blows around you, messing up your hair and tugging on your night gown. Wait... Since when have you been wearing a night gown? You remember, quite clearly at that, going to sleep in one of your favorite shirts. Your hands tug on the almost sheer fabric, the ruffles slide between your fingers as you marvel at the feeling. There's no way in hell you would be able to afford this from your minimum wage job.

- Captain?

Your eyes snap up, looking straight at a stocky, short man, dressed in a striped shirt, a red beanie on his head. Nervously, he reaches towards his face to push his small glasses up his nose.

- There appears to be a... uh... A woman, on the ship. - he says, hands shaking.

Your hands fly on instinct towards the hem of your gown, pulling it down, over your knees. Suddenly you realize, this really isn't your apartment, and even if this is a dream, being stuck on a ship with a bunch of strange men is not an ideal situation.

- Yes, Smee, I can see that.

Another voice joins the conversation, and with a gasp you look up, towards the steering wheel. There he stands, slowly walking down from his spot above the whole ship, movements elegant and smooth. In all your life, you've met many men, short, tall, skinny and fuller. Some of them pretty, some of them handsome. But, you've never seen a man quite as beautiful as the one walking towards you with such flourish, it takes your breath away from your lungs. The man pushes Smee out of the way, his lavish outfit and a gigantic hat covering your entire field of vision. There are black feathers all around his collar, mixing with lush, inky black locks of hair falling down past his shoulders. Icy blue eyes stare at you with intensity you've never experienced before, before his lips quirk up into a small smirk under his well-groomed moustache.

- Captain James Hook, at your service, my lady - the man bows down, taking his hat off, and you take a step back as the main, gigantic feather brushes over your feet.

- Am I dreaming? - is the first thing you say in this strange scenario, voice quiet and unsure.

The man looks up at you with a brilliant, roguish smile, before slowly pulling himself back to his full height.

- Who's to say? - he answers in such a cryptic way, you feel a sudden urge to roll your eyes.

Deciding for your own mental safety, that this is, in fact, a dream, you grab both sides of your gown, and bow slightly, just like you've seen in the movies. The Captain smiles at your curtsy, before reaching towards your hand. He takes is, rather gently, and brings it towards his lips, keeping eye contact with you and... Oh...

So this is "that" kind of a dream.

Your heart does a somersault in your chest, and you can nearly feel the blood, as it travels straight to your cheeks.

- What is this place? - you ask, after clearing your throat - Who are you people?

As you look at the crew, that has slowly gathered around you, you can't help but notice the way the Captain's expression of friendliness seemed to slip, just as your eyes left him. Replaced by a much more sinister, scheming glint, that sends a shiver down your spine. No matter, dream or reality, you were not about to let your guard down, especially around someone so obviously maleficent.

- This - the Captain makes a broad movement with his left hand - Is the Jolly Roger, the fastest ship on all Seven Seas. And we...

Your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you see the man approach you, swiftly invading your personal space. He smells of tobacco and rum, mixed in with the ever-present smell of the ocean and warm skin. It's nice, too nice, too easy to get intoxicated on. Acting on instinct, you start to walk back, him matching you step for step. Your back hits the wood of the mast, but the Captain doesn't stop, his figure towering over you, as he cages you in your spot.

- ...Are Pirates.

His words are but a whisper, shared between the two of you in a mockery of intimacy. For a split second, you think, you would like to wake up now. Because the Captain's eyes bear into you, like they're trying to drill holes into your very being, and his left hand comes up to caress your chin, pushing it up, until you're forced to look at him fully. Your breath comes out of your mouth in quick pants, heat rising from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears.

- Unhand me, Captain - you try, much weaker than you've intended, and the man flashes you a grin.

For a second, you're struck with how white his teeth are. A strange observation, but when was the last time you've seen a pirate with good oral hygiene. Then, as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on you, your thoughts start to gallop, one, clear one forming between your ears. You don't like being in this situation.

And so, bracing yourself and taking a strong breath, you raise your hand, place it onto the man's chest, and push rather hard. He seems to be startled by the contact, eyes flickering to your hand, and back to you in confusion.

- For a man of such high standing, you sure lack manners - you wonder if the surrounding men can sense your demeanor is a lie.

By the way some snicker, you guess they can. Captain Hook raises one eyebrow at you, regarding you with a skeptical stare, and then he brings up his right hand. There it is, gleaming in the sun, a sharp, curved hook attached to where his hand should be. Your face falls, and the man smiles cruelly.

- Case and point - you mutter, eyes never leaving the weapon. - I'll have you know, I'm a respectable lady, and I deserve to be treated as such.

Captain Hook laughs, a short snicker, before regarding you with a look filled with irony.

- A "respectable lady"? On a ship filled with men, in only her night gown?

Now, that sparks a fire in you, hands on your hips, you stand your ground against the Captain's oppressing posture, all the rage and fire following you in tow.

- I'm not responsible for my circumstance!

- Neither am I, I assure you - he raises his hands in mock surrender.

- Oh? And I'm supposed to just trust a Pirate's word like that? - you throw him a judgmental stare.

The man laughs again, his head inclining towards you in something, that vaguely resembles a show of respect.

- Wise, very wise, darling - your eyebrows shoot upwards at the new form of endearment - What are your demands, as a respectable lady?

You think for a second. In your mind, you haven't really arrived at that point yet, and making something up on the spot would pose a risk of exposing, just how much you have no idea what was going on. And yet, it's just a dream, isn't it? Soon, you'll smell your day's old coffee, and wake back up in your apartment, with no ocean in sight. Why not indulge yourself for a moment, while sleep holds you in its arms?

- I demand a tour of the ship - you announce triumphantly.

The man laughs, his eyes jumping around his crew, as if looking for a confirmation, that what you've said demanded ridicule. Apparently, it did, because all around you, you could hear snicker after snicker. You comfort yourself with the fact most of them sounded forced.

- Is that all? - the Captain already takes a couple of steps in your direction, and panic rises in your gut at his proximity.

- And do me no harm in the process!

That makes him laugh again, this one is loud and booming. Before you can get properly mad at him for laughing in your face, however, he takes off his lavish hat and bows again.

- Your wish is my command, my hearty.

Your face twists at the nickname, but you decide to say nothing, not wanting to push your luck, especially after being confronted with his deadly prosthetic. It's just a dream, you remind yourself in your head, as he comes over to stand by your side, arm sliding around your waist. It's just a dream, you keep reciting, when you feel his fingers pick at the thin fabric of your nightgown.

- ...Just a dream... - you mutter, and if he has heard, he decided not to comment, opting instead to pull you towards him, as he began to walk around the ship.

To his credit, the tour of the upper deck is completely respectable and rather interesting. As he explains the different parts of the ship, and introduces his crew along the way, you begin to slowly let yourself be carried through this weird experience. The hand on your waist no longer bothers you, even as it travels towards your hip from time to time. The crew is respectable enough, although the energy feels tense, whenever you're allowed to talk to them. As if everyone knows something that escapes you, some terrifying truth that you're not privy to. It's just a dream though, so you push your worries to the back and lean into the Captain's warm embrace.

- And now - the Captain leans down to flash you a cheeky grin - pièce de résistance.

He opens the ornate door in front of you with his usual flourish, and you gasp, as you enter the most richly decorated room you've seen in your entire life.

- The Captain's cabin. My cabin. Just like the Royal Palace, isn't it?

You laugh, eyes searching the room in wonder, taking in all the splendor and the treasure. There's a beautiful, black piano standing in the corner in the room, pages upon pages of music sheets thrown around it in disarray. Your eyes skim over the papers filled with black ink. And then, you see it. A gigantic bookcase, climbing the entirety of a wall, from top to bottom, filled with books. Your heart nearly jumps at the sight, and you cross the room with determination.

- Oh, this is just wonderful - you whisper, eyes flowing over the titles, some you recognize, some you don't.

You reach towards one of the books and pull it out with a smile.

- "Much Ado About Nothing" - you announce, and immediately step back, collidig with the bookcase.

You have no idea how the Captain managed to sneak up towards you so quietly, but here he stood, mere inches from you, one arm braced on the bookcase, his long black hair framing his face. His hat was left on top of the piano, and his coat became abandoned as well, leaving him in just a silk black shirt and leather trousers. An interesting combination, worthy of a rockstar.

- Do you enjoy Shakespeare? - he asks in a quiet, casual tone, as if the situation is the most normal it could've been

You swallow hard, regaining your composure, bringing the book closer to your chest, as if to shield yourself from his oppressing aura.

- Not particularly, no - you admit - This is an exception.

The Captain pushes closer, and your eyes start to search a way for potential escape.

- What is it about?

- Oh... it's... - you stammer, the hard cover of the book digging into your chest from how hard you're holding onto it.

His smell invades your senses, swirling in your mind and bringing blush back to your cheeks. Slowly, but surely, you begin to be entranced by this strange, dangerous man. Even the gleaming hook propped right above your head doesn't hold as much power as it used to. It all feels so intimate, nearly suffocating. It makes you wonder. If you're dreaming, what harm could be done, in letting yourself be seduced by this beautiful pirate?

He answers for you, his left hand coming up to brush hair out of your face, silver rings bringing stark, cold contrast to your heated skin.

- It's about two people, who hate each other, but over time discover they're in love.

- Ah, a love story? - his eyebrows furrow - I was never a fan of those.

You shake your head slightly.

- A love story, in a way yes. Mostly it's just funny. - you try to defend your story - But yes, the romance part is beautiful and witty, it's inspiring, really.

Captain Hook leans down, his hand leaving your face and sliding towards the book. Slowly, he worms his fingers under your hold, pulling the book out of your hands. You stare at him in confusion, as he skims through the pages, eyes jumping over the words with an unreadable expression.

- "Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." - he reads out loud, and you watch his eyes crinkle, as he shoots you a smile. - Wise words.

You observe with growing anticipation, as he opens his hand. The book slides out, falling to the floor with a thud. Your eyes snap back to him, catching him in the process of staring at your lips.

- “I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.” - you whisper.

- So cruel - he muses, the ghost of his breath fanning over the side of your neck. - I shan't even suggest "love", my darling "Lady Disdain". I do, however, require payment for guiding you through this ship.

His working hand climbs the expanse of your neck, pushing your head up, enough for you to feel the bookcase behind you. Acting on instinct, your leg travels up, the night gown slipping, exposing your thigh.

- And what would that payment entail? - you ask, your heart thrumming hard against your ribs, like a bird still longing to be freed from the cage.

- A kiss.

Your heated stares meet in the corner of your left eye, where he hovers over your pulse point. Soon, your lips pull back into a crooked smile.

- Just a kiss?

- And whatever more you can give me. - his eyebrows knit together, as he answers with a pout on his lips, a poor attempt at acting innocent.

As if there was ever a time for innocence, on this strange ship sailing through your dreams. So, you arch your back from the bookcase, hand coming up to drag itself along his arm. Meanwhile, your leg hooks itself around his calf, intention clear as day.

- What will I get in return, should I decide to give you more? - you say in a low voice, the huskiness of your tone surprising, but welcomed by the Pirate with open arms.

The cold metal of his hook startles you, as it begins to travel from behind your ear, along the main artery, until it rests between your collar bones.

- You'll become one of my most valued possessions.

At this, you frown with no real malice behind the expression. It is a dream after all. That being said, one of your hands reaches up and behind him, fingers worming their way into his soft hair. It takes one gentle scratching motion to his scalp, and the Captain nearly moans, his knees buckling under your touch. It soon became clear as day he wasn't used to physical contact, or at least, didn't get much of it.

- I'll have you know, I treasure my freedom greatly. - you counter, fingers tangling themselves into his black locks and tugging ever so gently.

- Is that so? - his voice cracks, but he tries to hide it, by dragging his hook down the front of your body, until it catches onto the fabric of your night gown. - So do I. But sometimes, one needs to take some risks, to gain something one wants.

- And what is it, that you want, Captain? - your question dissapears into his mouth, as he finally closes the distance between you.

To his credit, at first he tries to be gentle, to go slow and sensual. But as soon, as you allow him to continue kissing you, all pretense goes out the window. His beard scratches your face, as he presses himself impossibly close to you, tongue slipping past his lips and nearly forcing itself into your mouth. You grant him access with no grace left, sighing loudly, when his teeth drag themselves over your bottom lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. He laps the red liquid like a man dying of thirst, and you start to wonder, perhaps your sleep-deprived mind has conjured a pirate vampire.

Finally, when you think your lungs can't take any second more without air, he pulls back. His eyes scan your face, and his expression turns smug, as he notices the redness around your lips, the way they are swollen from the kiss.

- Right now, I want to take you over this desk there. - he answers your nearly forgotten question, and your heart lurches from your chest.

- What are you waiting for, then? - perhaps, you sound just a little bit desperate, but why should you care, it was just a dream after all, and you were far too turned on to play any more games.

So, you squeal in delight, as his arm sneaks under your thigh, and he hoists you up. Your arms immediately encircle his neck, and as he carries you over to the desk, your mouth begins a journey of exploration of the space under his chin. Your tongue darts out, licking a long stripe along his pulse, and you begin to worry he'll drop you, from the way his entire body shivers.

Soon, your ass hits the surface of the desk, rich mahogany carved into many intricate designs, never to be appreciated, because as much as you'd love to explore all the antiques, the man before you looks much more appetizing. God, he's beautiful, as he towers over you in all his glory, hair ruffled and shirt even more undone than before. His eyes bear into you, and from where you're sitting, you start to feel like prey, waiting for the predator to strike. And so, he does, his hooked hand coming up to your gown, and dragging it down. You gasp, as the fabric tears, falling alongside your body in long stripes.

- You'll be the death of me - the Captain mutters, eyes slowly climbing over every inch of your exposed skin.

And then he dives in, like a man starved, and all you can do, is angle your neck to give him better access. There's no need for tenderness, as he all but ravishes your neck with rich kisses, his working hand roaming every inch of your exposed body, still, carefully avoiding the one place you needed it the most. The ,almost, painful pressure between your legs starts to build up, not enough to tip you over the edge, but enough to make you annoyed at the lack of any real friction. So, with a furrowed brow and a desperate pout, your hand finds purchase, tangled in his soft hair. Before long, you pull at the roots. Hard.

His head snaps back, teeth snared at the pain you were suddenly causing him. He gives you a confused expression, and you have to shake yourself from the trance his wild eyes put on you.

- Fuck me already, would you? - you pant out, shame thrown out the window.

You can see his face morph right before your very eyes. From slight confusion, to pure, focused determination. You nearly laugh, as he lets go of you almost imediately, in favor of trying to get his pants untied and off of his body, cursing under his breath, as his hand just can't seem to work fast enough. With an affectionate smile, you pull yourself up, hands coming up to help him, detangling the strings holding his leather pants together. Before you can get a glimpse of what's awaiting you, his hand grabs yours, pushing your body down, to lie on the surface of the desk.

Wooden sculptures dig into your naked skin, but at this point, you can't find any care in the world, because his pants are down, and he watches you with such intensity, one would think you're a science project. You can't trust your words, so you just nod your head, in response to his silent request for permission. Soon, all thoughts leave your head, as he pushes in, in one, smooth, languid motion, as if savoring every miniscule twitch and twist of your body.

It's obviously been a long time for the both of you. Bodies finding familiarity in almost forgotten rythm, that starts slow, sensual and close. His breathing is shaky. You can feel his chest expand, his heart thrumming against your own. You allow yourself to get used to the feeling of having him inside you, each push and drag melting away at your bones, as your hands find their rightful place, scratching his working shoulder blades.

- C'mon. - you breath after a while of this tender love-making, and as if on cue, his hips snap up.

A squeak dies on your lips, as the Captain leans down to kiss you, his pace becoming faster, hips trying to move deeper. Soon, your whole body jumps on the surface of the desk, as the wood creaks rythmically under the weight of both of your bodies. You have the half-mind to note how sturdy the piece of furniture is, because the way this man above you is going, most of the surfaces in your apartment would've been reduced to splinters by now.

The Captain continues his ministrations, as the both of you grow closer and closer to you finish lines. Your voice slips past your lips as low, guttural groans, the pressure building seemingly with no chance of stopping it. You just need something to tip you over the edge. Pushed by the need for your own release, your right hand leaves the, now covered with sweat, back of the Captain, in favor of slipping between your conjoined bodies. You start rubbing quick circles, something to help you reach your goal, and as your body spasms, your voice grows ever-louder.

The man in front of you nearly trips in his fervor, your moans clearly affecting him. His brows shoot up, towards his hairline, as his hooked hand smashes itself into the surface of the desk. You would've been more alarmed by the violent outburts, if you weren't currently experiencing, what could easily be called one of the best orgasms of your life. Finding purchase in his stuck hook, the Captain resumes his work, going harder now, chasing his own high.

It doesn't take him long, before he topples over, moans and curses spilling freely from his lips, as his whole body weight crushes you. You're too close to being overstimulated, and you whine, as he finally slides out of you, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, but satisfied nonetheless.

It takes the both of you a while to recover, as you stay for just a moment longer, tangled in eachothers arms, breathing slowly evening out. His head lifts from your chest to look at you, and you push sweat-drenched locks from his flushed cheeks.

He smiles, and for the first time, you can't see any ulterior motive in his expression. It's soft and serene, his eyes glossed over.

- Will the payment be sufficient? - you ask, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've just done.

- Entirely - the man laughs, and you can't help but giggle yourself.

Your body feels heavy with exhaustion. You let your head fall with a thud onto the desk. With half a mind, you note his body weight leaving yours, but there's no energy left in you, to try and look at him. Instead, you choose to close your eyes, the immediate relief of the darkness nearly wrenches a sigh out of you. Blood is pumping through your veins, you can hear it hum in your ears. The desk is slowly getting softer and softer under your body, as if your limbs become accustomed to the wooden surface.

And then, just as you're about to ask for a glass of water, or rum, or whatever the Captain chooses to drink, you smell a familiar scent.

Day's old coffee.

#peter pan #peter pan 2003 x reader #captain hook #captain james hook #captain hook smut #captain hook x reader #captain james hook x reader #my writing

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queer-boo-radley · 9 days ago

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Same curious anon. When do you think Regina fell for Emma then?

Hi curious anon! I think Regina had several flashes of physical attraction/fondness towards Emma all throughout seasons one and two. But then when they were in Neverland looking for Henry, her feelings really deepened. That dark environment where they had to rely on each other, working so close together to find Henry, and getting to know Emma in that context, loosened her up enough for the feelings to slip in. I think she realized/accepted that she had fallen in love with Emma the moment she made the decision to send her over the town line with Henry and her memories. And then she spent the time they were separated bricking those feelings up deep inside of her heart where they could never potentially hurt her.

#swan queen #regina mills

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gretavanlace · 2 years ago

Text

Little Comets

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, descriptions of parenthood, biting, breeding kink, praise, extremely slight degradation, etc

Thank you so much for this request! It was to die for, and I hope I did it justice! I know it kind of ventured away from your original vision, but sometimes they take on a mind of their own Xoxo 💋

Staring down at your slumbering daughter, snuggled into her soft, cotton, sleeper, tiny hands clutched into loose fists on either side of her perfect head, you wonder what you ever did to deserve the blessings you enjoy so very many of.

Resisting the urge to drift your finger through her downy curls - so much like her daddy’s - Karen’s voice sounds off gently in your mind ‘never wake a sleeping baby, there’s time enough to love them while they’re awake’.

Her rosebud-mouth sucks away on an invisible pacifier…the real deal having fallen away to rest against the crib sheet beside her.

You had fought Josh diligently on this front, worried about her teeth, but he had won, as he most often does.

“She’s a Kiszka,” He’d reminded you, swirling his palm in soothing circles over her back as she drooled adorably against his shoulder. “Our teeth are indestructible. Isn’t that right, baby girl? And so what if she needs braces? Uncle Jake had them,” he had crooned her like a song. “And so did uncle Sam, and even mommy.”

The memory makes you smile. She had been even tinier then…just weeks old. She’s celebrated a birthday, now. Pudgy, cookie-dough legs toddling her around like a drunken sailor as she chases after things she shouldn’t touch.

There’s a host of words she now babbles on a regular basis, with her strange infant inflection that both you and Josh can’t get enough of.

Her personality is big, and her heart is even bigger. Positively enormous. Her eyes carry far too much emotion for such a tiny package. You are simultaneously elated to see what is around the bend, and desperate to make time stand still…to keep her this small and protected forever.

She looks so much like him. Her cupid's bow lips could be his, merely miniaturized to fit her angelic face. Those silken curls, darkening a little each day to match his own. Her eyes, were she to open them right now, would shine back at you, identical in their chestnut hue and flashing curiosity.

Sometimes you wonder if she carries even a drop of your DNA, but you like that just fine. She is a beauty, inside and out, just as he is.

The house is quiet, aside from the miniature fan that is perched on the nursery dresser, whirring softly…white noise to help her sleep soundly. Defense against his natural tendency towards a bit of noise. A habit he can’t seem to break, even with a sleeping beauty under his roof, trying to chase fairy dreams.

It isn’t that he’s loud, he’s just Josh.

The intrusive urge to wake her is making your fingers twitch against the railing of her crib. You love the stolen moments in still of the night together and you long for a black veil to dramatically mourn those early months, when your nights were spent in the glider rocker waiting in the corner, quietly nursing her in what felt like a perfect slice of private heaven, cocooned together in the early hours when the rest of the world seemed to have fallen away.

Tomorrow morning, she’ll rise happily and throw you a radiant smile from her high chair while cramming bananas, mashed to bits in her fist, into her laughing mouth. And you love that too, you really do…but if you allow yourself to pine for the not so distant past, you can’t help the tears that blur your focus until you shake your head to rid yourself of them.

Had Neverland been real, it wouldn’t have been for the babes who never wanted to grow up, but for the mothers who wished to hold them in their arms forever.

You hear him coming up the hall, by way the soft patter of his bare feet against the hardwood, long before the quietest of taps on the open door turns you towards it.

“Is she alright?” He asks, carefully maintaining a whisper as his head tilts in question.

“Mhmm.” You smile, nodding as you turn from the crib.

“Is the monitor on?”

Again, you offer an affirmative little nod.

His eyes wander over the tops of your thighs as they peek out to say hello from beneath the hem of your t-shirt. “Come to bed, then, sweetheart. I’m lonely.”

He looks hungry, but you know him well enough to know that a midnight snack isn’t what he’s craving.

Following behind him as he slips out of the doorway, you steal one last glance at her cherubic face before silently stepping into the hallway to find him there, leaning against the wall, waiting for his girl.

“You look very pretty, you know.” He whispers, eyes tracking your face in the dark as if he’s afraid he might miss something grand.

“No.” You blush, running your fingers through your bed head in a futile attempt at smoothing away the tangles.

“Yes.” He corrects, effectively ending the debate with one word.

“Can you feel it?” He still hasn’t ventured forward.

“Can I feel what?” You remain rooted in place as well. That is, until he beckons you closer with a jerk of his chin.

You step into his space, and now his hands are skating across the outsides of your thighs. “That ache you love so much.” He whispers, running the bridge of his nose along your jaw, drawing your scent in way down deep. “The one that lives between your legs after you’ve spent the night with me inside you.”

A fluttery sigh wanders off your tongue. You can. You can feel it. That lovely, dull pulse that acts as a reminder. An X to mark the spot each time you move. You’ve never been able to get enough of the way it calls forth flashes of heart stopping memories with every step, every flex and twist of muscle, every breath, josh josh josh.

“Oh,” he raises his eyebrows teasingly. “She can feel it.”

“Now I want more.” You breathe, pulling his mouth closer to your throat, fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck.

He shivers with a moan much too loud for the relatively innocent manner in which you’re touching him, and you lean back to fix him with an inquisitive stare, your lips instinctively seeking out the tiny round scar that rests upon his cheek.

“I just,” he shakes his head and begins grinding his hips into yours. “Hearing you say that…I want more. I know it isn’t what you meant, but…”

His explanation only serves up further confusion on a silver platter of curiosity.

“Don’t you ever think about it?” He squints, pondering your bewilderment. “Having more? Babies?”

Oh. Oh. You do think about it. You just hadn’t really given much thought to the fact that you think about it.

With an aggressive edge brand new to the current vibe, he wrenches your body around and presses you up against the wall as the air rushes from your lungs.

He shoves your shirt over your head and lets it fall to the floor as his stare grows darker still at the sight of your tits. Bared and offered up to him like two lovely gifts. So full and perfect…but not as full as they were when you were nursing. When he’d steal nips of your sugar-sweet milk with a wicked desire painted across his expression.

“Wanna make another,” he confesses, choked and winded as his fingers sneak their way under your panties. “Wanna make you a mama again. C’mon, sweetheart, please…”

“Josh…” your hands are flat against his chest, trying so hard to be the voice of reason. Surely this warrants a real discussion. Of course it does. Certainly. But does it need one? You’re both deliriously happy. Healthy. Financially sound. There’s room in the house, and even more room in your hearts…

You feel dubious about it, though you aren’t clear on why. It seems right. More right than anything has since the first time you decided it was time. And there is a perfect, tiny, bundle of love and hectic madness resting just beyond the door that proves you’ve gotten this life thing on the money. Why should you worry? Simply because you’re supposed to?

His mouth is charting a warm path along your throat, murmuring indecent nothings into your tingling skin.

“So pretty. I’ve never seen you look closer to an angel…” his fingers, long and thick - curling and stretching just right - work away at you until you can feel your need dripping into his palm. “All round and full, fucking glowing. Here, take these off…”

He is frantic. Fighting to rid you of your panties, issuing instructions even though he is the one executing them. He’s nearly vibrating with feverish desire. Seemingly just as shocked as you…it seems to have come out of nowhere.

“Let me in, baby..” his teeth are searching across your shoulder, nipping and biting, tongue curling like he’s lapping at your clit. “Right here…spread your legs and let me in. I need it. I fucking need you.”

“Bedroom, babe…” you’re panting and arching away from the wall just to be a little closer to him.

“No.” His head shakes vehemently, forehead pressed heavily against your chest. “Here. Let me take you right here. Gonna fuck you full, sweetheart. Gonna give my girl another. You want that? You wanna make another with me? A hundred more? Tiny beams of light running all over the place like comets? Our very own andromeda of littles? A suburban pearl for each one strung around your pretty throat?”

He has this unmatched talent for turning everything poetic.

A grin that feels sexy, even to yourself, spreads across your lips “I would’ve thought we quieted this little kink of yours the first time around.”

He returns your smile through heavy, stuttering breaths as he tosses you this way and that, manhandling you into position, legs curled around his waist, grip tight around his shoulders.

“You should know better, sweetheart…” there’s that taunting lilt in his tone that sets you on blue flame fire from the inside out. “I’m never that easily satiated. I’m gonna keep you filled right up with babies for as long as you’ll let me. Barefoot and beautiful.”

“Gonna do it right now?” Your fingers have dug themselves down into his curls, guiding his mouth around until he is dragging the flat of his tongue over the column of your throat. “Right here up against this fucking wall?”

You two can come up with a hearts and roses story later…for now, fucking like you could tear each other to bits in the hallway will do just fine.

“Yeah,” you’ve heard the growl in his tone before, but only a time or two organically. More often, feigned on stage, but effective nonetheless. “Right fucking here…gonna make you mine again. Gonna fuck a baby right into my pretty little mama.”

He slams into you hard and fast, punctuating himself and robbing you of thought as a scream claws out of your throat on razor blades of lust.

“Shh…shut the fuck…” there’s that growl again as his palm clamps over your mouth and he quiets himself as well without finishing his thought, careful not to be too flippant with his words with you, always. Even in moments like these. “Don’t you dare fucking wake her up.”

“Say it.” You breathe after shaking his hand away, desperate for this uncharacteristic authority from your beloved, and notoriously tender, better half.

His eyes, savage and untamed in a way you’ve never seen them, dart to yours and then narrow fiercely. “Shut the fuck up. Do as you’re told or I’ll quiet you with a cock down your throat.” His words hiss out, venomous and drenched in domination that makes you want to swoon in all the ways you never thought you would.

Give you an apron and you’ll be happy to preen about for him as delicately as he pleases. Happy to wear that string of pearls he spoke of. Catering to his every whim. Pressing his shirts and preparing cocktails until he’s got those fuck me eyes fixed on you once again.

Yes, give me another… your heart purrs. I’ll give you babies. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything you need. It’s yours. The world is all yours. I’ll make sure of it.

He flashes the smallest hint of a wink and it bubbles a laugh out of you from way down deep. Who are these people? That wink seems to ask you. And yes, who are these people? Crazy with need and fiery passion, fucking up against the wall when your bed beckons, merely feet away, enormous and dressed in downy linens like drifts of snow.

He rolls his hips, pinning you against the wall - board and batten lovingly painted a luxe emerald green by your own hand. “So fucking tight…” his face buries its way into the side of your neck with a whisper of your name. Tiny gasps punch out of you with every heated thrust, calling back to him.

“Whose cunt is this?” He gnashes down into you and then pulls away, raking his bite across your flesh, leaving it burning, white hot.

“Yours, Josh…” you’re hardly lucid, lured into a daze, soft as a rag doll in his arms.

A feral grunt chokes out from behind his deliciously malevolent snarl when you clench your muscles, searing and soaked, around the length of him. Never, ever, leave, your body silently begs.

“Yeah,” he nods frantically against you. “Mine. My pretty little thing. My best fucking girl. Gonna fill you up, mama. You want that?”

“Yes!” You return his feverish nod. “Yes! Fuck, please, baby, please, please...”

His hand snakes down and opens up, unfurling out flat across your stomach, covering your womb protectively, as he softens for a moment. “Yeah? You want me right here? Inside? You and me?”

Another nod and a tightening fist in his hair is the only reply you can manage.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he licks a soft kiss into your mouth. “She wants to give me babies.”

“M’gonna cum…” it hiccups out of you. A slurred, nearly unrecognizable confession that might embarrass you if anyone, other than he, were to hear.

“Do it.” He pets at your face, thumbing away the sweat from your brow. “Cum for me so I can give it to you. Wanna give you another, sweetheart. We make ‘em so beautiful together.”

For all his ostentatiousness, he is reduced to a whiny, shiver of a moan when you squeeze around him, coiling tighter and tighter as you spill, like tiny, warm, rivers of primeval love, showering down…words not needed.

“That’s it…” it’s strangled, barely enunciated at all. “My girl. My good fucking girl.” He’s fucking you through it, talking you through it, carrying you along, leading you, loving you.

His cock - so perfect, so right - twitches and throbs furiously inside you where you’re snug and wet just for him. “Gonna make me cum, sweetheart. All those pretty sounds. Divine little cunt. Gonna fill you right up…tell me you want it, tell me you - fuck…tell me, tell me.”

He’s losing it in the way you love best, hands furiously needy, gripping and pulling at you. Heavenly ambrosia at his fingertips.

“I want it!” You pant, thrashing about until your head smacks against the wall and his hand cups around you, chivalrously watchful that it doesn’t happen again. “Inside, josh…I need it!”

It’s your begging for it that sends him sailing over the edge. You aren’t asking, you’re imploring, beseeching. And your confession, sincere and unashamed, of that requisite. He is weak for you. Positively helpless. You want him inside. You want this with him…this life - blurry with dreamlike love - you’re both cultivating together.

And he knew before…how he loves you. How deeply. How wholly and completely, and without condition. Even when he is angry, or annoyed with you, his devotion is starkly absolute. He would rip the heart from his chest if you asked to watch the way it beats for you.

He did, he knew before. He knew the moment he laid eyes on you…and here in this hallway it blasts him in the gut all over again. Shrapnel splintering out, sizzling through his veins.

Peaceful down to the quick, he is…but for you? To protect all of this? He’d turn into a very different man without a breath of hesitation.

He’d like to tell you these things, but as he spills inside you, he can scarcely handle the frayed I love you, that he avows, forehead pressed to yours.

In the end, it’s Josh that wakes her, by way of a harsh strike of his hand against the wall beside your head. A futile, thoughtless attempt at keeping quiet, that backfires.

You move to step away, to figure out how to right your disheveled self quickly, so she doesn’t feel alone, but he shakes his head, tucking himself away in his sweats.

“You go lie down.” He nuzzles into you, kissing the words up your throat with his fingers toying gingerly between your thighs. “Keep this where it belongs. Hips up, sweetheart.”

A sound of understanding shivers out of you as you watch him disappear into the bathroom for a moment to wash his hands.

When he steps back into the hallway, you’ve hurried off to follow his instructions.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @dvrkblooms @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #greta van fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #josh gvf #gvf josh #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #gvf x reader #gvf smut

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wanderingoff · 5 months ago

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Challengers Fic Recs!

I've completely fallen down the Challengers fic rabbit hole since I saw the movie a second time in June, and I'm surprised I haven't seen any Challengers rec lists floating around! I've read what feels like half the tag at this point, so I decided, hey, I guess that one's on me. I've been really impressed by the overall quality of what I've been reading, so these really feel like the creme de la creme and I hope even if you haven't read Challengers fic before, you give some of them a shot! (I will say, I'm not sure this is the best fandom to read without having seen the film, but the movie is SO good, just watch it and then come back) (Also, I don't read Reader inset fic which seems really popular in the fandom, so no shade to any of those authors, just not my bag!)

I wrote these little summaries cuz this post was so long! Without further ado, in order of length so I didn't have to obsess over that too:

let it once be me by wastelandbaby - 4444 words, M, Post-canon, Throuple, Getting together. Summary: An immediate post-match threesome can't fix what's wrong with them. Tashi and Patrick are texting and Art's crippling insecurity won't let him see what's directly in front of his face. Art POV. Rec: This fic is so short and un-sweet; I want to say it speedruns the beats that make so many throuple getting together fics work except it doesn't feel rushed in the slightest, and the ending is completely unique and honestly took my breath away.

open heart / open container by comosum - 5106 words, M, Post-Canon, Getting together Summary: The throuple is getting together, but Art and Patrick have to have a conversation first. Art POV. Rec: A large portion of this is one conversation and the dialogue fucking slaps. It does an unusually good job of having Art and Patrick directly/explicitly address each other's queerness before initiating sex, managing to thread the needle of "he would not fucking say that" and "it's actually not totally unrealisitic for these guys to be moderately self-aware at least of themselves."

give it a hand, offer it a soul by thcscus - 6493 words, T, Post-Canon, Established Throuple Patrick is playing his best for Art and Tashi. Patrick gets injured. Patrick doesn't know if it's the tennis that's over, or everything. Mixed POV. Rec: In the Exquisite Agony fandom, this is possibly the most Exquisitely Agonizing fic I've read. It's horrific. It's shocking how short it is compared to the rest of this list, but within the first 400 words my heart was in my fucking throat and it didn't come down for the remainder.

a romantic fool by spqr - 10300 words, E, Canon-compliant, Established Throuple. Lily is Patrick's. Art loves her for it. Art POV. Rec: Hands down, the fic that inspired this list and one of my gateway drugs into Challengers fic. I want everyone to read it.

this monstrous fire by kithmet - 10672 words, E, Post-Canon Throuple Getting together. An immediate post-match threesome can fix what's wrong with them. Along with some eavesdropping. Art POV. Bonus: kithmet made an incredible Challengers playlist not specifically for this fic, open relationship Rec: This is the closest thing to a fix-it on this list (it's very far from a fix-it), and I think convincing me these three could possibly figure their shit out in the short timeline of this fic is incredibly impressive character work.

neverland by ameliepoulain - 14079 words, E, Post-Canon, Art/Patrick, Getting together. Patrick quits tennis and moves on. Art quits tennis and does not. Patrick POV. (The second part of the series, second star to the right, is Art POV, pre-throuple, and essential.)(Bonus! Comes with playlist!*) Rec: Of all the fic on this list, I think this one takes the biggest swing on its set-up and for me that completely pays off. The two parts of the series also do an incredible job of demonstrating how opaque these people are to each other and do SUCH a good job of differentiating voices/experiences).

wishbone by a__peach__tree - 18375 words, E, Post-Canon, Throuple, Getting together. An immediate post-match threesome can't fix what's wrong with them. Patrick buys a ticket to the US Open, and waits, and tries to get his life together. Patrick POV. Comes with playlist*! Rec: This author does the most convincing Patrick-trying-his-hardest I've read; the action becomes so interior over the course of the fic and the tension ramps up so high I caught myself talking to the characters out loud, literally begging them to do the right thing.

american doubles by sticky valentine - 19166 words, E, Post-Canon, Throuple, Getting Together. An immediate post-match threesome won't fix what's wrong with them. Art invites Patrick to follow them to Cincinatti. Tashi thinks she knows what's going on. Tashi POV. Rec: I'm SO glad I found this fic before sending this post to press because we need Tashi POV and I think this does a great job of drawing back the curtain on her machinations and leaning into how human, fallible, and confused she is.

make it all look painless by sundaymournin - 20277 words, M, During-canon slight AU Or, this author outright rejects that these three had the self-control to actually stay away from one another. Art POV. Rec: Another true Exquisite Agony fic; it interlaces with canon beautifully and addresses Art's obvious anxiety more directly than anything else on this list, along with his self-loathing. This is the fic that takes the "none of them can stop hurting each other or themselves" to it's logical extreme without like, actual extreme behavior that would break character or make canon events impossible.

Bonus AU: it's getting better by spqr - 9025 words, T, No injury AU Let Art and Patrick be shlubs! Reckon with painful truth of a life in service to a single, unloving dream! Let Tashi find her way back to them anyway! Tashi POV. Rec: For me, the appeal of Challengers is how well crafted the movie is, so I've shied away from the handful of AUs. But a) ALL of spqr's Challengers fics are shockingly good, and b) out of all the fic on this list, this is the one I can most easily hear the dialogue in the actual voices of these characters & their actors, which is a high compliment from someone who does not have a very concrete imagination.

*I made these Spotify playlists based off text lists of songs in the author's notes of these fics.

#Challengers #challengers (2024)#fic rec #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #(i actually have not yet read anything that directly addresses why tashi took art's name and would looove to)#peach-tree-writing #kithmet #i don't think anyone else on here had their url in the authors note or w/e #but would love to be corrected!#lol so glad to be posting i've been being weird about this idea for weeks

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kmomof4 · 10 days ago

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12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

And now here is Day 6 of my 12 (Actually 13) Days of CS Fic Recs!!! @zaharadessert specializes in turning the angst up to about a 12, but the payoff she gives makes all the pain to get there sooooo worth it!!! So here are my very favorites of her fics!!

Get Your Motor Running - Rated E - Emma Nolan is driving home to Storybrooke having finished college, when her car breaks down. With no cell service the only thing in walking distance is the local biker bar…

Canticum Sanguinis Lux - Rated E - Once, all Emma Nolan wanted was a normal life, but when she had a run in with a vampire as a teenager she realised that she couldn’t escape the life of a hunter. Now all she wants to do is prove herself, and she’s going to end up going above and beyond to be the hunter the world needs her to be.

The Halloween Gambit - Rated M - Bar wench and orphan, Emma Swan is taken captive to lure Captain Hook to the noose. Things don't turn out as her captors expect.

The Heart of the Savior - Rated E -

One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance.

For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.

A Dream of Home - Rated E - Life with the Gold Pack has never been smooth sailing for Emma Swan, and things are getting worse now the pack leader's son has decided he wants her for his mate. Nothing she says or does seems to deter him, or deter his parents from encouraging the match. Emma's only hope is a promise someone made her seventeen years ago; a promise she's forgotten about in all but the deepest recesses of her dreams.

Fallen Angel - Rated M - Forced into a marriage she didn’t want with a man she didn’t love when her parents died, Emma Nolan did everything she could to make the best of it. But when he died, leaving her with an infant son, she realised the depths of his disregard for her and the sanctity of their marriage. Not only was he a gambler, he spent his winnings on his mistresses and left his young wife and with enough debt that she ended up in a workhouse. A workhouse which, like everything she used to own, has just been sold, and the new owner is coming by to survey his new purchase.

I Did Right series - Rated E -

chaos reigned supreme in Central Park yesterday, when the Mayor’s foster son was kidnapped in broad daylight under the supposedly watchful eye of hired staff. The mayor’s office has yet to make an official statement…

When Henry is kidnapped while Regina should have been taking care of him Emma is furious and resolves to do whatever it takes to get her son back. But will the CARD Agent sent by the FBI to help handle the case be more of a distraction than a help, or can he manage to be just enough of both to make this work?

All of Zahara's fics are fantastic, but these are my personal favorites. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have!! See you tomorrow for Day 7!!!

#12 days of cs fic recs #actually 13 #day 6 #krystal recs #zaharadessert

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aileetoilee · 6 months ago

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Been playing a bit of Kingdom Hearts lately and by a bit I mean 7 hours straight in one day

I'm almost done with KH1! Still have Atlantica, Halloween Town, neverland and whatever comes after (Really curious as to what Hollow Bastion is) So no Spoilers please!!

Also if anything happens to my son Sora I will blame it all on Rikku (＃`Д´) That dude has been making a series of decisions I'm mad about lmao

Fun story, when I was around 8 I followed this youtuber that was a fan of KH and even had his minecraft avatar as sora from KH2. I watched a lot of his let's play including Zelda WW (Fav Loz game) and KH! Fast forward 12 years later, my Vtuber friend starts streaming KH since it finally released on Steam and I've fallen down that rabbit hole since hehe

I started playing KH1 like 3 days ago on a Ps2 emulator and player 8+ hours before a friend of mine gifted my the ENTIRE KH collection on steam (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) I'm super grateful to my friend cuz that wasn't cheap but man,,,, 8 hours down the toilets lmao

Anyways, here's me as a Keyblade User! I noticed the keyblades also had titles so mine is the Shooting Star! hehe

#digital art #kh #kingdom hearts #kh oc #my art

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assortedvillainvault · 1 year ago

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Captain Hook,Davie Jones and captain Barbarosa are competing each other who is better captain,has better ship and can loot more treasure.

It’s a tense air that carpets the dark, back corner table the three of them are sat at, bottles in hand.

“Well, obviously, it’s yours truly.” Hook artfully sips from the bottle cradled in his namesake. “Formerly first mate to Blackbeard, immortal scourge of Neverland, a name known worldwide and, clearly-” he sneers a bit, “The one with the most class present. Of course its me.”

Barbossa rolls his eyes as he takes a rough swing of his own bottle, apple in hand. “Hardly.” he drawls. “Yer a coward who couldn’ kill a little ginger whelp and got yerself eaten for the trouble.”

“How dare-!”

“Besides-” Barbossa continues as though Hook weren’t even speaking, enjoying the way the red coated captain’s face was turning purple. “In case yer memory be failin’ ye, I ended my tenure at sea as Cap’n of a pirate armada, more swag in me hold than can be found in most palaces, and only the wrath of Poseidon ‘imself kept me from returning to stalk the waves again. Clearly.” He clacks the bottle against the table in finality. “It be me.”

The third occupant of the table leisurely lights his pipe even as Hook’s temper breaks and lunges across the table, the razor sharp hook just barely missing Barbossa’s throat as the older pirate swears and topples arse over ankles back from his seat. Bottles are thrown, swords are drawn, and Barbossas laugh is cut short as Hook slashes his feathered hat in half – fighting back properly with a snarl.

Jones idly puffs smoke and settles in as the bartenders weigh in against the squabbling captains, blue eyes glinting in the dark. His first mate, Maccus, leans over from another table.

“Uh-” the shark begins. “What’s the question again?”

Jones boredly taps out the ashes and lights another smoke. “Who be the best pirate.”

Maccus blinks. “But we ain’t even pirates. Most a th’ crew were honest sailors.”

“Aye.” Jones shrugs. “Ah dinnae know what they think we could do with looted holds - bar souls - anyway. The Dutchman regrows any damage.”

“And normal folk run screamin’ at port or sea.” Maccus nodded, teeth clicking idly. “...bets on these two?”

Jones surveys the broken furniture and theatrical shenanigans across the room, where Hook and Barbossa posture and swing, evenly matched as the barstaff duck for cover under tables and fallen wall hangings.

“...ten years say’s Barbossa, but only if it dinnae come to pistols. Hook’s a mean shot.”

Maccus grins full of sharp teeth. “Twenty years. Hook’s bloody quick, even if Barbossa’s all bones.”

Thanks for the ask!!

#thalassa responds #disney villains #disney captain hook #hector barbossa #davy jones #obligatory apology for the year long wait on getting this out #hope you're well and enjoy the unexpected prose!#the girls are fightinnnggg

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laianely · 3 months ago

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Whumptober

I decided to participate in Whumptober, running by @ouatprompts And this is my first entry. All stories are going to be Emma centric, Killian centric or Captain Swan.

no beta 'cause I'm too shy to ask, haha, sorry

Weaknesses of the Strong

2nd - Witchcraft Wednesday Poison - Hallucinations - “Who’s there?”

Rating: T Summary: The jungles of Neverland can break even the strongest of people. Even such people as Emma Swan. Read on AO3 Also decided to post it on Tumblr

Emma stared at the blank piece of paper, trying to see something in it. But all her efforts were in vain. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes to the sky and lowered her arms. Pan's mocking words rang in her ears.

"You’ll only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are".

She knew who she was. She is Emma Swan, and she has to solve another problem that had fallen upon her shoulders in all this fairy messy madness.

"You are the only one who can find Henry".

It's just her again, on her own. No one could help her. Not her parents’, who suddenly appeared in her life; not the pirate, who never took his eyes off her; not Regina, who tirelessly talked about what she was ready to do for Henry. It didn't matter. And the responsibility she hadn't asked for was back on Emma's shoulders.

Glancing in the direction of the camp, she made sure that no one was awake, and headed in the opposite direction. She needed a place where she could think about the riddle without being distracted by thoughts of the others. After all, they couldn't do anything to help her.

As she made her way through the stubborn bush, Emma felt one of its branches catch on the bottom edge of her top. She yanked the fabric violently to free herself from its grasp, but immediately she felt a sweet, cloying scent irritating her nose, and a yellow haze of toxic yellow haze appeared in front of her eyes. Coughing, Emma stepped aside and looked up, covering her nose with her palm. Lush orange blossoms hung from the upper branches, their brightness almost glowing in the darkness. And now, disturbed, they were releasing pollen, showering it on their abuser.

"Damn this island," Emma swore under her breath, turning and walking away.

She had no idea where she was going. She didn't really have a definite goal, just a desire to think and use the impromptu walk for that purpose. It was better than sitting idly by. In silence. And alone. The way she was used to.

But she wasn't alone.

A rustle of footsteps disturbed the silence of the night, and Emma glanced around furtively without stopping. Her thoughts raced as she wondered who might be keeping her company. One of Pan's henchmen? Or a local predator? From the sounds of it, it was alone, and she was ready to snatch her sword from the sheath on her back at any moment. She knew how to stand up for herself. She had to learn.

Anxiety sent a cold tingle through her body, running along her spine and coating her skin with goosebumps as the rustling grew louder, thicker, larger. The creature was no longer alone. And Emma wasn't so sure of her powers anymore. A sudden crackling sound dangerously close to her made her flinch. Drawing her sword, she struck a pose and turned around.

"Who's there?!" she shouted, trying to hide her trembling voice behind an illusion of confidence.

For a moment there was silence, deafening and dense, as if palpably pressing down on her, pinning her to the ground. Even nature fell silent, plunging the island into a dead calm. Only Emma's own breath cut through that viscous mass of hot jungle air in anxious gusts.

The sharp screech of several voices broke the silence, and Emma's hearing was filled with ringing, accompanied by pain. She dropped her weapon and covered her ears with her hands, but it didn't help. She turned around frantically, looking for the source of the sound, just in time to see something dark and shapeless flying toward her. Barely dodging it, she turned to look at the mass, but another one was moving to her. Crouching on the ground, Emma watched in horror as the creature flew over her, whirling her hair. And then, turning around, she realized it was impossible to count them anymore. They hovered in shadows around her, encircling and thrusting sharply over her. They touched her skin and burned cold, bringing panicked shrieks from her lips. Squirming, Emma tried to hide herself with her hands, nervously searching with her eyes for cover through the swirl of blurred darkness. Off to the side, she saw tall rocks forming a hollow. On the one hand - it would be a dead end. But on the other - it would prevent the shadows from surrounding her on all sides and give her a chance to fight off only one of them. Grabbing her sword, Emma crawled on all fours to cover when an unintelligible whisper began to break through the shrieking. And her body seemed to be pierced by a cold point as the words began to take shape.

"You're an orphan."

"I'm sorry, they didn't come for you."

"You'll find your parents next time."

"We'll start a new life in Tallahassee."

"You are under arrest. Your boyfriend ran away."

"Emma, it's a boy."

"You can still change your mind."

"No, no, no," Emma mumbled brokenly. "Stop it".

Barely forcing herself to reach for cover, she wrapped her arm around her knees, hiding her face in them.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" she shouted, swinging her sword to the side.

She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hold back. She wanted to scream, to spew out the bitterness that filled her to the brim like a vessel of loneliness and sorrow. Her eyes stung, and she let her emotions take over, collapsing into sobs.

"Please! Enough!" Emma begged.

She felt as if the sword had touched something tangible. Another illusion, designed to break her from her vigilance, no other way. But then the sword slipped from her fingers and something grabbed her tightly.

"No! Let me go!" Emma shrieked, kicking her arms and legs in an attempt to fight off the thing that had her in its grip..

Suddenly through the hum of voices something familiar began to nail her. Someone was calling out to her with a concerned uneasiness. A gentle voice filled with sympathy and compassion.

"Emma! Emma, open your eyes! Look at me!" the woman asked.

"No! No! Go away!" Emma screamed.

But that person only pressed her harder to themselves, to a warm body. A hand was gently stroking her head, overcoming all her struggles. And Emma, abruptly opening her eyes, realized that she was in the arms of Mary Margaret. David was sitting next to her, staring intently at their daughter's face.

"Dad... mom..." Emma wheezed, surprised at her own words coming out of her mouth.

She's used to coping on her own, shutting herself off from everyone and pushing them away. But there was a little girl hiding in the body of this strong adult woman who just wanted her parents.

Pulling away from her, Snow White smiled at her, and Emma noticed a deep, bleeding cut on her mother's shoulder. Realization slapped her as she remembered how her sword had met resistance.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Emma's voice trembled as she could barely hold on to more sobs.

"It's okay," Snow White shook her head, her smile strained in an attempt to overcome the pain. "I'll be fine. We both will be fine".

She pulled Emma into a warm embrace again, and this time David joined them, pressing his daughter's head against his cheek.

Emma could see Hook and Regina behind them. Even their faces expressed deep regret and concern.

"What the hell was that?" Regina asked Killian quietly.

Assessing the yellow coating on Emma's clothes and skin, Killian frowned.

"A creepy flower," he replied.

"What a weird name," Regina was indignant.

"It reflects its essence. Its pollen sends out visions of the worst nightmares for a person," Killian explained.

He touched Regina's shoulder, and she turned to look at him, but he gave Emma and her parents a meaningful look and nodded towards the camp. It was a rare situation when Regina didn't argue. After all, even she understood how serious the situation was when even the Savior had broken down.

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche

#whumptober #once upon a time #ouat #emma swan #captain swan #killian jones #laianely’s fanfics #once upon a time fanfiction

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stvphenwrites · 2 months ago

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Satin Sheets Of A Boat

Tags: Rewrite, older man/younger man, Stephen is Captain Hook, Tony is Wendy Darling, feminine Tony Stark, slightly, Tony Stark has a vagina, Vaginal sex, satin sheets, Alternate Universe - Neverland, Peter Parker as Peter Pan (Mentioned), Galas, dancing, Dark Stephen Strange, Tony Stark Is A Ray Of Sunshine, Omega Tony, Alpha Stephen, scar kissing, possessive Stephen, marking

chpter 1 of ironstrange one shots

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Stephen Strange, the psychotic and harsh pirate captain had fallen in love with Tony Stark, the son of Howard Stark, when Stephen heard of Tony’s presence in neverland along with a Peter Parker, a boy who never ages and is the leader of the lost boys, Stephen knew he needed to sway Tony to his side.

Strange had always despised Peter, as he was the one who chopped off Stephen’s right hand, causing him to replace it with a hook, hence gathering the nickname ‘Captain Hook’, it was rather fitting.

As a masquerade ball was happening in the town, lights covering the town, and the fountain in the middle redone.

Stephen came, his usual black hair put into a low ponytail, his bangs falling in front of his face, and a black, red domino mask, along with a white feather on the side covering his face, he gazed over the sea of people, spotting his dear Tony, dressed in a beautiful teal dress, along with a mask that covered his eyes, with rubies lining the edges. Oh how Tony looked delicious…

The captain approached Tony, Strange’s red cloak flicking as the wind brushed past him.

“May I have this dance?” Strange spoke, extending his hand, looking at Tony through hooded eyes.

Tony bit his lip, going quiet as he was unsure to say yes to the captain, but ultimately, he placed his hand on Stephen’s, “You may,” Stark whispered.

A small smile spread on the pirates face as he took Tony’s hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it, before taking the youngers waist with his large, and slightly scarred hand.

Stephen began to lead, his pace was fast, his movements skillful as he led the other. Strange gazed down at Tony, his smirk growing slightly more. “You look ravishing,” Strange commented, keeping his prosthetic hook away from Tony’s gentle face, not daring to accidentally slice him.

“You’re too kind,” Stark replied, as he couldn’t help but allow a faint smile to cross his lips, his plump lips lightly pursing as he smiled.

Stephen smirked, he pulled Tony close to him, and dipped the younger down, their faces inches apart.

Stephen was very pleased by the omega, his smirk shifting into a fond smile. He couldn't help but take in Tony's scent, sweet, and almost a mix of berries, and sweet apples. “My, my, Anthony, such a pretty omega and such a wonderful dancer, where have you been all my life?” Strange teased, spinning the other, before taking the brunette back to his chest, gliding Tony across the dance floor.

"Now you're being a bit too flirty, captain," The younger replied while his eyes flicked down to Stephen's hook-hand but made no comment on it as Tony brought his gaze back up at Stephen's face.

“Oh really? You don't enjoy the compliments?” Strange questioned, his thumb lightly rubbing the omegas lower back as the two continued to dance, Stephen leading of course. Of course the captain noticed Tony's quick glance to his hook hand, not that Stephen said anything of it.

"No, I do, I do," Tony paused, nibbling on his lower lip, "I never expected you of all people to compliment me."

“Of all people? What do you mean by that?” Strange spoke, a brow raised quizzically as he looked down at the omega, his lips forming a half frown, his gaze softening a smidge.

He was curious, was Tony referring to how he's a pirate? Strange knew of his reputation, and how many people found it frightening, and how no one would suspect someone such as Stephen to actually compliment them. The captain was curious either way.

"Nothing, it's just with your reputation, you don't seem like someone to say anything nice about anyone," The omega answered truthfully, shifting his hand in Stephen's while they swayed.

“Hmph..” Stephen muttered under his breath. He pulled Tony back up, as the waltz continued onto another song. Strange pulled the omega close to him. Of course he knew about his reputation, the nickname ‘Captain Hook’ wasn't just given because he had one hook for a hand. But at one point, even pirates were capable of love and compliments. It was just not often shown, at least for Stephen’s case.

He was a pirate after all, and had a reputation to keep for being heartless, cruel, and violent.

“Well I've decided to try my best to change that, darling. Besides…if you'll allow me to be blunt, you are more than beautiful, Tony. It would be a crime to not tell you such..”

A small smile spread upon Strange's lips, pulling Tony closer to him, his right hand on the youngers lower back, as his only left hand cupped the youngest chin, rubbing his jaw. "Are you being truthful? or are you just saying that?" The brunette asked while leaning against Stephen's hand, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Stephen gently pinched Tony's chin and smiled, “Believe me darling, I do not have a reason to lie to you..” Strange pulled them both out of the dance floor, and pulled the omega into a small but dark corner, far from any peering eyes. The pirate captain gently shifted Tony's hand in his own, his head then shot up, he could've sworn he heard that damn boy Peter.

Strange turned to the corner, keeping Tony close to him as his body covered the young omega. The two waited, but it seemed as if the noise was just Stephen’s imagination. The captain let out a sigh, turning back to Tony, his red cloak following.

“My apologies for that, sweetheart.” The pirate spoke, the smirk slowly came back onto Strange’s face as he pinned Tony to the wall.

A small hum had fell from Tony's lips as he stared up at Stephen, "Something bothering you?" He asked with a small tilt of his head.

“No, I just thought I heard something..” Strange spoke truthfully, his gaze focused solely on the omega. The man leaned down, gently brushing Tony’s bangs out of his face.

Stephen cupped the omega’s chin once more, gently making the youngest look up at him. “Would you like to go somewhere more... Private my dear?” The captain asked, tilting his own head as the smirk on his face didn’t disappear.

"Oh.. I don't know," Tony murmured while he tilted his head down to the ground, looking away from the captain for a moment before glancing back up at him.

Stephen huffed, “Why not? We’d have more privacy, be all alone, with no one to eavesdrop or look upon us” Strange spoke softly, he placed two fingers on the omega’s chin, forcing the younger to look up at the captain. A small frown formed on the pirates face, as he thought of a way to convince the omega to follow somewhere with him.

“Besides, isn’t it better to get away from the loud music, and the sea of people?”

Strange questioned, his hand slowly snaking its way around the brunettes tiny, and oh so breakable, little waist, and onto the small of his back.

“No one will bother us, all to ourselves, darling.” Strange spoke, the smirk slowly returned to the pirate. Finally, and thank the gods, he had gotten a nod from Tony.

Without a second to waste, Stephen had guided Tony toward the pirate's boat parked against the dock, he lifted the omega, having no problem in getting him on the main deck, his boots hitting against the wooden boards of the ship, Stephen kept his grip on the youngers waist as he walked them to his cabin, his own quarters.

The captain guided Tony onto the bed, the omega’s back hitting the satin covers. Strange smirked as he watched the omega on his bed, crawling on top, and pinning the younger down beneath him.

“Oh aren’t you a sight...” Stephen murmured, his eyes roaming all over the brunettes body. The pirate gently took Tony’s mask off of his face, throwing it off to the side of the bed, the object hitting the wall. “Much better.” He spoke gently, his eyes now on the youngers face, seeing for the first time just how absolutely ethereal Tony really was.

Tony sighed softly, he had to admit, the mask being off was comfortable without it on he then reached up, gently placing his hand against Stephen's own mask, "I think it's only fair if you take yours off too.." He murmured softly.

Strange chuckled at the comment, before pulling his own mask off, revealing the rest of his face. His scars, one over his left eye, along with the ones on his cheeks, from countless battles at sea, his slightly crooked nose; due to being broken many times, but the one thing that caught Tony’s eye was the way the pirates lips curled into a smirk.

“Well darling, what do you think?” He questioned, his voice low and smooth.

Stark remained silent for a short time before he smiled faintly, "Your perfect," he whispered, leaning up to press a tender kiss to Stephen's lips, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone.

Strange froze at the action, not expecting the kiss, and just how sweet the male before him really was. A small shiver went down his spine as he felt the thumb on his cheek. The captain’s eyes darkened as he gently returned the kiss, tilting his head as he did so, gently grabbing Tony’s hips, he pushed the omega back down onto the bed as he leaned down, his knee going between the youngers legs.

Stephen’s lips then left the youngers and went down to Tony’s neck, pressing a gentle kiss upon the scent gland just under the omega’s ear.

He inhaled the scent of the omega, a small smirk pulling on his lips as he did so, loving how sweet and almost fruity the scent was, like an apple and berries.

“You smell absolutely delicious darling..” Strange whispered into the youngers ear, gently nibbling at the earlobe. Tony let out a small gasp as he tilted his head back, his hands finding their way to Stephen's shoulders and grasping tightly, his nails lightly biting into the fabric.

Strange hummed, his smirk growing more as he heard Tony gasp. The captains hand slowly snaked its way under the youngers dress, and up the inside of his thigh, his fingers gently rubbing the soft skin of the omega. “Such soft skin sweetheart. What a sweet thing you are..” Strange whispered in his low, and smooth voice, nipping at his scent gland, which had become slightly more prominent due to the excitement.

Strange slowly pulled the omega’s dress up, the thin, soft, and oh so revealing fabric pulling up and exposing the youngers upper thigh, his skin fair, and smooth from the looks of it. Stephen left several bite marks all over the area, not bothering to keep the marks to one spot. He wanted everyone else to see the marks, to show how the little omega was claimed and his. He listened to the small moans he drew from Tony's lips, how the omega grasped and clutched at the sheets.

“Such lovely noises you make,” he crooned as he gave the other one last bite, gently rubbing the inside of the youngers thigh. The captain made his way down to the other thigh, biting and nipping, marking it as well.

Stephen loved marking the omega, leaving his claim just all over his body, especially since he knew others were going to look at the omega for all the wrong reasons, which is exactly what Strange was preventing.

"Stephen," Tony spoke quietly as he cupped the others cheeks and pulled him up gently, gently pressing his lips to Stephen's, "Please, I need you..." He whispered pleadingly.

Stephen looked down at the smaller as he spoke, his smirk growing more as he heard the plea.

“Be patient darling, I promise you’ll get what you want soon..” Strange crooned, his fingers now lightly tracing the youngers thighs.

The captain slowly pushed the youngers dress up higher, up to his torso, exposing the rest of his skin, now leaving bite marks and kisses upon the omega’s stomach. Strange continued, going up and leaving marks upon Tony's chest, the youngers dress slowly rising higher, exposing more of his body. “Look at you darling. So perfect, and so damn beautiful..” he murmured before latching onto Tony’s collar bone, leaving a particularly hard bite. Which caused the shorter to let out a loud scream of bliss.

The captain used his right hand to go under the youngers dress, grabbing and grasping tightly onto Tony’s hips, feeling his soft skin against his calloused hands.

Strange pulled up onto the bed, forcing the omega to lay against the soft satin covers, still leaving bite-marks and kisses all over his skin.

The pirates hands now rested upon Tony’s thighs, his grip on the fair skin was tight and possessive, as the captain looked down at the omega. Strange had a satisfied smirk on his face as he glanced upon the smallers form, loving the way the youngers skin was blemished with mark after mark.

Tony let his hands find Stephen’s hair, gently grasping at the older, he then took Stephen's hook hand in his own and pressed a tender kiss to the hook while staring up at him with a small smile. Strange looked shocked for a moment, not expecting the younger to kiss his hook.

A small huff of breath escaped the captain's lips as he stared down at the omega, his smirk returning once more.

“Why darling. To be so gentle, with this cursed thing..” he spoke, watching the youngers lips touch the hook. Strange gently threaded his fingers, or rather, the digits that were still alive, through the youngers soft hair. “Well I like it, I like every inch of you,” The omega answered as he leaned up to press a kiss to the pirates slightly crooked nose before moving to press a kiss on the scars that laid on Stephen’s cheek and finally the one on his eye.

Strange huffed once more, his eye closing as he felt the omega’s lips on his face, a warm feeling bloomed in his chest as the younger kissed his scars.

He suddenly had the impulse to grab Tony and pull the younger to his chest, wanting to hold and keep him, and to never let the omega leave his side.

“Darling… “ he crooned, gently taking Tony’s waist and pulling him to his chest. The captain gently pushed the youngers head to his chest, his chin resting upon the top of Tony’s head.

Strange gently stroked the youngers hair, carding his fingers through the brunettes soft locks. “You really are such a sweet thing..” Stephen spoke softly, he gently inhaled the scent off the omega’s hair. A soft but small smile pulled at his lips as he nuzzled his face into Tony’s hair.

Tony let out a soft hum before he spoke up, “So, will you fuck me or?” He teased while he reached up to caress Stephen’s cheek.

Stephen chuckled, a rough sound coming from the captain.

“Patience, sweetheart.. You’ll get your fill, and more..” Strange teased, the smirk slowly grew more as he pressed his face back into the youngers hair. “But I also want to make sure I don’t break you in half..” Strange mumbled into the youngers hair.

“You won’t break me, I know you wouldn’t,” Tony whispered to Stephen’s lips, his thumbs caressing at the alpha’s cheekbones and carefully dragging over the scars on his cheeks.

“Oh really? What makes you say that?” Stephen questioned, his head tilting slightly at the omega, one his eyebrows raised, watching the younger gently caress his scars.

The taller of the two was still in awe from Tony’s action, the way he had willingly touched the rough, and uneven, and ruined part of his face, as if they, the scars, didn’t bother him.

The captain grabbed the youngers wrists, pulling Tony’s hands off his face, and pinning them against the bed, above the omega’s hair. “I’d say you already love me too much to hurt me,” The brunette replied while he kept his legs wrapped tight around Stephen’s waist, “I probably sound stupid for saying that, for trusting you, but…” He paused for a second, “I do trust you.”

Strange froze again, stunned at the statement, never in all his years at sea has a person ever trusted him, let alone loved him.

His heart skipped a beat, and that warm feeling returned in his chest, and bloomed as the omega spoke.

Stephen released the youngers wrists and laid himself on top of Tony without putting his weight on the other. The captain gently cupped the youngers jaw in his left hand, tilting his face up so their eyes could meet. “Darling.. You cannot say such things to me..” He spoke in a low tone, his voice deep with the many emotions swirling in his head.

The pirates eye scanned Tony’s face, looking for any signs of lying, but all the captain could see was the sincerity in the youngers warm, brown, eyes.

Stephen huffed, before placing a gentle kiss upon the youngers forehead. “You are an absolute idiot to be putting such trust in a pirate like me..” The captain mumbled, before nuzzling is face into the youngers neck.

Strange nuzzled his nose against the scent gland, inhaling the sweet scent of apples and berries, not that it took much effort, since the youngers neck had already become slightly prominent. “Just let me love you,” Stark replied as he wrapped his arms tight around Stephen’s neck, pulling his face closer to the omegas scent gland.

Strange froze for the third time that night, as the youngers words echoed in his head.

The captain gently wrapped his arms around the smallers back, being mindful not to be too rough with the younger. Strange buried his face into the youngers neck, and inhaled his scent, wanting to permanently engrave it into his mind.

He let out a shuddering breath against the youngers skin, as the realization of what the younger had said finally hit him.

Tony was in love with him, and Strange had to resist smiling at the realization.

The pirate began to slowly kiss along the youngers neck, going back down to his collar bone, leaving behind more marks as he did so. Strange was careful not to mark the scent gland, not wanting to take the youngers choice away, but he would mark every other part of the omega’s body.

”You have no idea what you’re asking for when you say you want to love me sweetheart..” the man mumbled against the youngers fair skin. His lips found their way to Tony’s chest, continuing the trail of kisses, his hand running down to the youngers ass, giving it a tight squeeze.

Strange then began leaving marks upon the youngers chest, just above his heart, smirking against the skin as he did so. “Mine..” the man mumbled between every mark he left on the youngers skin. "Mhm, all yours," The brunette hummed, tilting his head back farther while his fingers twirled in Stephen's hair, giving a light tug at the locks.

Strange huffed against the youngers chest. The captain then slowly made his way back up to Tony’s neck, stopping at the scent gland, nipping at it.

The man hummed upon feeling Tony’s fingers in his hair, causing him to continue the small bites, nibbling harder on the scent gland, only pulling away to leave another mark on the youngers skin.

Strange then pulled away, looking down at the youngers face. He could see the marks he left on Tony, marks that were already starting to bruise. “You look absolutely beautiful darling..” the captain mumbled, his smirk growing when he saw the blush on the youngers face.

He ran the knuckles of his left hand down the side of Tony’s face, admiring the red hue upon the youngers cheeks.

Strange huffed as he stared into the warm, brown, eyes. His eyes went down to the youngers lips, they were red and slightly swollen, they were so tempting..

Tony stared up at Stephen before he reached out and gently placed his hands against Stephen's cheeks, leaning up and kissing him tenderly while he grounded against Stephen, "Please, fuck me, alpha..."

A low growl-like sound came from the alpha, when Tony said those words. Strange’s eyes darkened, as the need for the omega became far stronger, the pirate’s heart raced as he gripped the youngers hips.

“Are you sure you want this darling?” There was a hint of concern in his voice, as he stared down at Tony. He didn’t want to push Tony into this, he didn’t want the youngers first time to be horrible and traumatizing.

"I'm sure, alpha, please," Tony pleaded and begged softly as he brushed his lips to Stephen's, dragging his fingers through the taller's hair and caressing the captains cheeks.

Stephen huffed, he didn’t need to be asked again, the words had been all he needed.

The captain kissed Tony forcefully, nipping at the youngers bottom lip. He kept the omega’s hips pinned down on the bed, and he slipped his thigh between the youngers legs, rubbing at the omega’s cunt through his panties.

While Strange did this, he began to undo the corset upon the omega, making sure he wasn’t being too rough as he did so. Once he had undone the corset, the captain quickly undid the strings that kept the youngers dress on, and pulled the cloth off of the omega, throwing off to the side.

Strange looked down at Tony, his smirk returned once his eyes landed on the exposed omega.

The pirate licked at his bottom lip, a hungry and lustful look in his eye. A low growl escaped his lips as he ran his eyes over Tony.

“You are gorgeous, darling, absolutely delicious..” Strange whispered, his eye roaming over the youngers exposed skin, admiring the marks he’d left just moments before.

The alphas large hands went to Tony’s thighs, gently massaging the soft skin, squeezing the youngers legs every time the omega moaned, he hooked his fingers in Tony's panties before pulling them down his legs as Stephen unzipped his fly and positioned himself between Tony's legs easily.

The captain looked back up at Tony’s face, a wicked smile spread across his lips as he watched the youngers cheeks flush a bright red. The omega looked so beautiful like this, so submissive and pliant, it made Stephen want to ravage him right then and there.

“Look at you darling, so needy.. Already so wet for me..” the captain purred, rubbing his thumb along Tony’s wet folds.

"Please oh please alpha..." The omega begged as he tried to rut against Stephen's thumb, staring up at Stephen with teary yet desperate eyes.

Strange chuckled at the youngers display, “Oh my, so needy and desperate..” he cooed, as he began teasing the entrance to the omega’s pussy with just the tip of his thumb.

A moan escaped his lips as he watched the younger, before suddenly his eye widened, a sharp smile pulling at his lips as he realized something.

“Wait here for just a second darling..” Strange said, giving Tony a kiss on the lips while he pulled his thumb away from Tony's dripping cunt.

The captain quickly walked over to the small desk by the door, and opened a small drawer, opening it and rummaging through the contents.

Once he had found what he was looking for, Strange walked back to the bed.

The omega let out a small whine as he looked over at Stephen, Tony having his hand shoved between his legs and moaning sweetly as he stared at Stephen, "A-alpha, please breed me.." He begged.

The captain ran his hand along Tony's thigh, his fingers gently scratching at the youngers skin.

The man leaned down and kissed the youngers stomach, kissing right above the youngers navel, his beard lightly scratching the omega’s skin as he sucked and nipped.

Strange then wrapped his arms around Tony’s thighs, his hook resting on the youngers hip, as he lifted him slightly off the bed, Stephen sat up and gripped his cock with his left hand, he gently extended his hook hand toward Tony's, feeling as the omega wrapped his fingers lightly around the hook as Stephen guided Tony's hand toward the tallers cock.

A small moan had slipped from Tony before he wrapped his fingers gently around Stephen's cock, giving it a few pumps while sheepishly staring up at Stephen. The omega continued before leaning up and pressing a gentle kiss to Stephen's lips, "Please, I want you inside me, don't make me wait..." He whimpered.

Stephen pulled the youngers hand off his cock, and gently pushed until Tony was on his back again, and Strange was looming over him.

The alpha sat up and pulled Tony onto his lap as he grabbed his cock, rubbing it at Tony's soaked folds before he easily guided himself into the omega. “You're so big..” Tony mewled, he moaned as his arms wrapped around the captains neck, his toes curling as he tried to adjust to Stephen's size.

Strange let out a low grunt as the omega enveloped him, his hands slowly rubbing along Tony's back. The captain moaned softly when Tony's arms wrapped around him.

He kissed and licked along the youngers neck and collarbone as he waited for Tony to adjust, wanting to distract the omega as well. Stephen began to rock his hips up into Tony, pulling out loud moans and whimpers from his omega as he pulled his hand down and rubbed his thumb at Tony's clit, causing the omega to buck against him.

"What a sweet moaning mess you are, how you moan and shudder beneath me like such a good omega..” Strange mumbled into Tony’s neck, he began thrusting harder up into Tony, the grip he had on the younger's hips becoming harder and leaving behind bruises.

Stephen panted harshly while he continued to hammer his hips up into Tony, groaning loudly and kissing at the brunette's skin as his knot started swelling to size.

The captain began leaving more marks along the youngers shoulders, neck and chest, wanting to show anyone who was looking the omega was his. Strange was marking the omega everywhere he could reach, wanting to imprint the omega with his claim.

"You're my omega, my omega, mine! All mine!" He growled possessively, continuing to mark Tony, the words coming from his lips were barely coherent as he focused on rutting roughly into the younger.

"A-alpha! knot me! knot me!" Tony sobbed as a few tears trickled down his cheeks, but none of pain, only blissful pleasure as he tugged at Stephen's hair.

Strange grunted when Tony pulled at his hair, his grip became almost bruising as he continued his brutal pace.

“That’s right, you’re mine, and only mine! I’m gonna have you carrying my pup in you soon!” He growled, his mouth latching onto the scent gland.

Stephen recoiled his hips back before snapping back up into his abused cunt, slick dripping down Stephen's cock now before Tony came around the captain with a shuddering and load moan.

With a final snap of his hips, Stephen buried himself inside Tony, his knot locking them together as he came inside the omega, pulling out louder moans from Tony.

"You're my perfect omega, my beautiful omega..” he whispered in Tony’s ear, trying to catch his breath, the captain gently pressed a kiss to each of the youngers cheeks, before moving to capture his lips.

The alpha gently laid Tony back down, careful as he lowered them both down onto the bed. He ran his hand along the youngers side, occasionally grabbing at Tony as if he was trying to feel all over the omega once more.

The captain pulled away from the kiss and laid a few gentle pecks on the youngers neck.

"Mh... Thank you.. That was amazing, Steph..." Tony panted quietly as he nuzzled his face against Stephen's neck, pressing a few lazy kisses here and there to Stephen's skin.

Strange let out a huff, before responding, the word barley audible, "Perfect.." The captain leaned into Tony’s touch, wanting to nuzzle the omega in return, but the position they were in made that quite impossible, so he just continued to run his hand along the youngers side, and he gently squeezed Tony every so often.

"Rest sweetheart, just rest," Stephen coaxed the omega into a slumber while he watched over the brunette. He didn't need to worry about that damn Peter or anyone, all was on his mind right now was Tony.

And Tony, Tony was perfect. He wouldn't mind focusing on the omega.

#strangeiron #tony x stephen #stephen strange x tony stark #ironstrange #doctor strange #tony stark x stephen strange #stephen/tony #tony stark #omega tony stark

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