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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

All Mine

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by Anon: If you are taking them, I have a request! The reader and EZ are best friends and she is close to Angel who secretly loves her. But once EZ joins the MC and the reader hangs around more, Angel gets jealous of EZ because she is hanging out with him, not knowing the reader is in love with Angel. Angel becomes distant from her but she stops by his place to talk to him because she misses him and so much possessive smut, bruises, hickeys 🥵 I love your writing and wanted to request ❤️

Warnings: language, angst, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of bodily fluids (male + female), unprotected sex

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I was just thinking that I need to write something for Angel soon and this request was perfect for that so thank you. Got some backstory and buildup to really get the angsty vibes going before we get to the smut. As someone who is a big fan of hickeys and the like this request really spoke to me lmao. Hope you guys enjoy!! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing don’t hesitate to let me know, I’ll add you to the list!)

If there was anything that could be said about being friends with the Reyes brothers, it was that it was never boring. You’d all been friends for a long time, having gone through life together from high school on. You and EZ had been in the same grade and became best friends almost instantly, and it was difficult to be friends with EZ without also being roped into a friendship with his brother, too. Not that you minded—the three of you always managed to have a good time together.

And the friendship you had formed with Angel was pivotal when EZ was shipped off to Stockton. Never boring didn’t always mean fun. But the two of you kept each other sane throughout the whole ordeal. You’d always gotten along well, but in those years that EZ was away you and Angel really fell into a flow with each other. You were practically living over at his place. The couch always had blankets and pillows on it for you just in case you stopped in and stayed the night, which happened more and more frequently as time went on, especially on nights after you took the time to go visit EZ. You wondered why Angel didn’t go as often, but you knew better than to pull at those strings. Even though you knew a lot about the Reyes brothers and their family, you were also aware that there were a lot of things that you weren’t privy to, and you respected that.

You’d gotten good at patching Angel up, physically and emotionally. Whether he was coming home busted up from whatever was happening with the club, or you came over to find him a drunken emotional mess because of what life had put him through, you had slowly but surely figured out how to help him through it. Your first-aid skills improved a lot in the years that EZ was away.

And, somewhere along the way, you’d fallen in love with Angel in the mess of it all. There wasn’t an exact moment where you could pinpoint that it happened. But spending all that time together, getting each other through the rough patches and celebrating together in the good times, really carved out a space in your heart that was reserved just for Angel Reyes. You kept that to yourself, though. You knew that if he felt the same way at all, he would’ve said something or made a move of some kind. It stung sometimes, but you knew that having him in your life as a best friend was preferable to not having him at all.

“He’s coming home next week,” he said, trying to ignore the pain of you cleaning out a cut he’d gotten above his eyebrow.

You nodded, trying to keep your excitement levels down, “I know,” you leaned back to get a better look at his whole face, “How are you feeling about that?”

He nodded, “’S better than him staying in fuckin’ prison.”

You chuckled, “That’s true,” you paused, knowing that there was a lot more going through his mind about it, “You talk to the club about everything?”

He cringed as you swabbed the gash with medical alcohol, “Yea.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, “You fuckin’ know,” he let you cup his chin to hold his head still as you pressed a bandage onto his cut, “He’s meant for more than this shit. I don’t get why he wants to come back to Santo Padre at all, let alone get tied down with the fuckin’ club.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, “It seems to work well for you.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, “Don’t say that like EZ and I are capable of the same things, querida. You’re smarter than that.”

You sighed, leaning back and resting your hands in your lap, “Your cut should be fine. If it starts oozing anything you can sue me for malpractice,” you let the EZ topic drop, knowing it was a bit of an exposed nerve and probably would be for some time.

He chuckled, “Thanks. I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” he stood up, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to pull something together for dinner.

The days dragged on as you waited for EZ to come home. Once there was a definitive end-date to his stint in Stockton, time seemed to move slower. You’d been spending more time around the clubhouse in general, but you knew that if both Angel and EZ were going to get involved with the club, you were going to need to get comfortable with all of it. You knew that you weren’t going to get to be in the know about everything, but you didn’t want to be a stranger either, or just “that girl who is always hanging out with the Reyes brothers”. The guys really didn’t seem to mind. You all got along well enough, and having the endorsement of being a close friend of Angel’s certainly didn’t hurt. It was a relief, and you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to know that you had a team of backup if something ever got that bad. Angel would go to the end of the earth for you, but having a small army never hurt.

You’d been cautiously optimistic about what life was going to be like when EZ was back home again. You loved him and you missed him, but you knew that he wasn’t going to be the same exact person coming back that he was when he went away. No one comes out after that much time the same. But in all of your visits, you could feel that he was still EZ in all the ways that mattered. He was just going to need time to adjust, to figure things out, to get his feet back underneath him. And that was exactly what you were there for.

He fell into things rather easily with the club. You knew that Angel was still conflicted about it, but there was no going back on it now. EZ was officially a prospect and Angel was officially his sponsor. No amount of deep sighs and eye rolls was going to undo that. The club was accepting of him, but they were still vetting him thoroughly. You couldn’t necessarily blame them, but you knew who EZ was and it made you a little biased.

EZ was open with you about what he was going through, and you were glad that the two of you hadn’t lost that over the years. He needed some consistency, some kind of anchor in the midst of all of the chaos, which was a role that you were more than happy to fill.

Late nights at Angel’s apartment started to give way to late nights at EZ’s trailer. You still saw the both of them a lot, one of the benefits of hanging out at the clubhouse whenever you could. But you knew that EZ needed some extra one-one-one time and you weren’t going to rob him of that because you had gone and let yourself fall in love with his brother.

You figured that Angel would be glad that EZ had someone in his corner. You knew that things were a little tense between them sometimes because of the club and you didn’t have any of that baggage to carry. You assumed that Angel would be happy to know that his little brother was being cared for by someone who really knew him and gave a shit about him. But it didn’t really feel that way.

EZ was on the opposite side of the bar from you, stacking the last few cases of beer that had gotten delivered that day. The two of you were laughing as you told him about some of the stupidity that was going on at your job. The laughter was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both turned to see Angel standing there, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Pres needs you in Templo for a few minutes, Prospect.”

EZ nodded, wiping his hands off on his jeans, “Alright,” he walked around to the other side of the bar, giving your shoulder a nudge as he walked past you, “Don’t let anyone rob the joint while I’m in there.”

You laughed and shoved him towards the sliding glass door, “Hope they’re not kicking you out.” Despite the fact that EZ was making his way to the room, Angel lingered back for a moment. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say something to you, “All good?”

He shrugged, nodding, “All good,” the expression on his face said otherwise but you didn’t get to push it as he turned and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

You were still there when the meeting was over, not that it took very long. Everyone dispersed in their own directions. Angel flagged his brother down, saying something quietly into his ear, eyes only darting over to you for a moment before he clapped EZ on the back and walked out of the clubhouse without coming over to say anything to you. EZ walked over, unaware of everything you were noticing and feeling.

He plopped down on the stool next to you, “Movie night?”

You nodded, smiling, “Absolutely.”

About halfway through the movie your mind was somewhere else entirely. Before you were able to censor yourself, you blurted out, “Is Angel mad at me?”

EZ looked over at you, clearly confused. He paused the movie, “Mad at you?”

You nodded, “Yea. He’s barely been talking to me the past couple of weeks and when he does it just feels…different.”

EZ shrugged, “If he is, he hasn’t said anything to me. I doubt it’s that, though. He’s been stressed with all the shit going on with the club lately. He might just accidentally be taking it out on you.”

You gnawed at the inside of your lip, wanting to believe him but not quite sure that you did, “Yea, probably.”

The next few days went by and it was more of the same. You felt like you were trying to drag a conversation out of Angel and he was coming up with excuse after excuse to dodge you. You tried not to let it get to you, but it was difficult. After everything, he was icing you out. And even despite that, your heart still sped up every time you saw him, hoping that he would walk over and things would go back to how they’d been for the last few years.

So you found yourself outside the door to Angel’s house. You knocked on the door for the first time in years—you never used to feel like you had to. But now everything felt off and you didn’t feel quite as welcome as you did before.

A few moments later you heard a scuffling from the other side of the door before it opened. Angel was in his jeans and a tank top, hair a mess, and your heart skipped a couple beats in your chest. You cleared your throat, “Can I come in?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything as he moved to the side so you could walk inside. You toed off your shoes and part of you wanted to plop down on the couch the same way you had so many times before, but you fought the urge. You did notice, though, that there was still the small pile of blankets and pillows taking up one end of the couch. It gave you a small sliver of hope.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked, standing in front of you in the middle of his living room.

“I just came over to talk…to see how you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he scoffed, shaking his head, “No pressing plans with Boy Scout tonight?”

“What’s your fucking problem?” your words were angry but the look in your eyes was anything but—everything just hurt.

“You just use me to pass the time till he got back out?” he looked like he was on the brink of tears, “Just come over here to fill the Reyes void until the Golden Boy was back?”

“Angel, what are you talking about?”

“You! Us!” he snapped. The word us hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t force out any words, so Angel continued, “You spend all this time comin’ over here, making me think that you actually give a shit about me, makin’ me fa—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “Then you just fucking drop me. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”

“Angel,” there was a slight tremor to your voice, “your brother just got out of prison. Figured he might need a little extra support for a while. Why is that putting such a bug up your ass?” you saw him go to say something but you held your hand up to stop him, “And just so we’re painting the full fucking picture here—you’ve been dodging me. Every time I try to talk to you, you suddenly have something else to do, somewhere else to be. This is the first real conversation we’ve had in weeks and it’s only happening because I came banging on your fucking door,” you wiped away tears that you hadn’t even felt before that moment, “Sorry you haven’t gotten my undivided attention, but that’s just life sometimes, Angel. And, fuck,” you shook your head, “even though you’ve been acting like a real dick lately, I’ve still missed you.”

“I’m so fucking sick of coming in second place, Y/N.”

You stepped to him, looking up at him, “You’re not in second place. There are no places. That’s all up here,” you reached up and pressed the pad of your finger to his temple.

He gently placed his hand over yours, completely enveloping it, “I can’t handle you getting sick of me, forgetting about me,” his eyes met yours, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

You felt a lump forming in the back of your throat, “Then why are you shutting me out?”

He shook his head slightly, hand still clasping yours, “Easier leaving than getting left.”

“I was never leaving you, Angel,” your voice was barely a whisper, “And I’m not going to.”

He closed his eyes, leaning down so his forehead against yours. He took a deep, unsteady breath, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you.”

You smiled, bringing your other hand up so you were cupping both sides of his face as you pulled back a little, “You’ve got a really shitty way of showing it.”

He laughed, shaking his head before pressing a kiss against your palm, “Will you let me show it in a better way?”

Your heart was pounding inside your chest as you nodded. He instantly pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. One hand fell to the small of your back while the other rested on the back of your neck, keeping you as close to him as he could. Your knees felt weak as you melted into him.

He pressed the tips of his fingers harder into the back of your neck and you could feel the neediness seeping from his body into yours. You draped your arms over his shoulders, getting lost in the feeling of the way his lips moved in-sync with yours. A soft moan slipped out as he bit down on your lip.

He pulled his lips away from yours, letting you both catch your breath. He still had you wrapped up in his arms and you smiled, placing a gentle kiss on his jawline, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you too.”

With a quiet laugh he scooped you up off the floor, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. With what seemed like no effort at all, he whisked you down the hall to his bedroom. You laughed as he let you drop a few inches from his arms onto the mattress, a smile on his face as he situated himself between your legs, hovering over your torso with his lips hardly an inch from yours.

“You mean it?” you asked in a whisper as you reached up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve been falling in love with me.”

He nodded, his voice as soft as yours, “Every word,” he leaned down and kissed your temple before bringing his lips right next to your ear, “I just wanna make you mine.”

Your body trembled at the sound of his words. You let your eyes drift shut as what he said washed over you. “Do it,” your voice was hardly audible, “Make me yours.”

You felt him hum in approval, the vibrations against your neck sending a chill through your body. He attached his lips to yours, cupping one side of your face in his hand. You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, and you felt him smile into your kiss. He pressed his lips hard against yours for a moment before he slid them down to your neck. His hands slid down your sides, resting on your hips as he bit down onto your neck. You moaned as he sucked on the sensitive skin there. He brought his lips to the other side of your neck to do the same thing as he pushed your hips down to the bed, effectively unhooking your legs as his hands started to undo the button and zipper of your jeans.

He pulled your jeans down, tossing them off to the side before hopping off the bed just long enough to undo his belt and push his jeans down to the floor. Once the denim pooled at his ankles he stepped out of them and was right back on top of you again, pulling your shirt off over your head as you reached and did the same to him.

He kissed you as his hands roamed all over your body, touching every exposed inch, every single curve. His tongue met yours as he gripped tight onto your hips. You moaned as he began to grind against you. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as he pulled out of your kiss, sucking lightly on your bottom lip as he did.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he kissed you lightly on the lips as his fingers looped around the waistband of your underwear, slowly sliding them down your legs.

He left a long trail of kisses and love-bites down your chest, stomach, and thighs. He draped your legs over his shoulders and you let out a shaky breath as he grazed his teeth along the inside of your thigh, biting down ever-so lightly before moving his lips between your legs. A moan fell from your lips the second he pressed his mouth against you, your hands instantly tangling themselves in his hair. You felt the vibrations against you as he chuckled at how quickly you became so needy. Every single thing he did felt perfect. The sound of you moaning his name filled the house as his tongue continued to explore every part of you.

He pulled his lips away from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He smiled up at you as he slowly slid his fingers into you, turning your whimper into a moan. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders, nails setting into his skin as you cursed under your breath. He kept his eyes on you as he slowly began to pump his fingers in and out of you, reveling in the fact that he was the one marking you up and putting that look of pure bliss onto your face.

You arched your back slightly when you felt him bite down onto your thigh, “Fuck, Angel, don’t stop.”

His voice was raspy, “You gonna cum for me, querida?”

“Y-yes,” you almost didn’t get the word out as you felt his mouth begin to work along with his fingers. Your legs tightened around his head, thighs clenching as you got closer to your orgasm, “Fuck, Angel,” you cried as you came.

He slid up to you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Your fingers trailed through his beard, feeling your wetness as he leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself off of his lips and tongue and you were about to get lost in that sensation alone until you felt him pressing against your entrance. You rested your hands on his hips and pulled him closer to you, both of you moaning as he slowly slid into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, soaking up how he felt inside you.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered as he slowly started to move his hips, “You’re so perfect for me.”

You knew there was no way to be closer to him than you were, but you wished that there was. You wrapped your legs around him again and cupped his face so you could kiss him as he thrust into you. He braced his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned into you. you slid your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him down against you as you sank your teeth into the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

You heard him curse and you smiled as you placed a kiss on top of the bitemark, “You’re mine now, too, Angel.”

He pulled away from you so he could look you in the eyes, “Say that again.”

You gently traced the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip, “You’re mine, Angel Reyes.”

His lips crashed into yours as he picked up his speed. He couldn’t get enough of you, hands grabbing at whatever they could to try and keep you closer to him. You felt his rhythm start to falter—he gripped tightly onto your hips as he thrust hard into you a few more times before quickly pulling out of you before he came.

He collapsed onto your chest with a sigh. You let out a tired laugh as you lazily trailed your fingers through his hair, both of you attempting to catch your breath and get your hearts down to a reasonable speed. You could feel the reverberations of his chest against yours and in that moment you were sure that there no better feeling in the world. His fingers lightly traced over your skin and all you could think about was the fact that his touch felt like home. You let your eyes drift shut for a few moments as he peppered your neck and shoulders with soft kisses.

He shifted so he was laying on his side next to you, staring at you with a starry look in his eyes. You smiled over at him, rolling onto your side as well, “What’re you thinking?”

He smiled, kissing you gently on the lips, “That I love you.”

You felt your face get hot as you touched your forehead to his, “Yea? Good. ‘Cause I love you too.”

He laughed as he rolled and pulled you with him so that you were laying on top of him, your chest pressed against his, “No going back on that now, you know.”

You let your fingers dance down the side of his face, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes smut #angel reyes angst #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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writethelifeyouwant · 4 years

Text

Sin

Created for: @ilysm-mybabybrother

Pairing: Dean x Reader / Sam x Reader / Dean x Sam

Warnings: Dub-Con

Additional tags: Cuckolding, Dirty talk, Praise kink

Word count: 2,076

A/N: Written for my @spnsecretsantaficexchange set up by my bae @negans-lucille-tblr as a present for the lovely @ilysm-mybabybrother (who I’ve been a long time stalker of, nbd). They requested something smutty with dirty talk / praise kink / cuckolding / and the brothers touching each other - potentially with Demon!Dean or BoyKing!Sam - I’ve gone with Soulless!Sam - I hope that’s still okay! I think I managed to work all the other kinks in there... Anyways I had a lot of fun writing it so I hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas 🎄

Dividers: @firefly-in-darkness

Dean hadn’t let himself imagine this moment.

When Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding shotgun, Dean made himself accept that. Bobby came back, Cas came back, but when Sam didn’t appear with them, he had to let him go. He promised he would let him go.

He kept his promise. He found a job in a garage in Texas. He wooed a girl who brought in a car that sounded like his old neighbours in Hell were trapped under the hood. He picked her up in the Impala and dropped her off on her doorstep with a kiss and a promise to call; and he actually called her. They weren’t living together, but they spent most of their time at each other’s apartments. Dean taught her a bunch of ways to doctor up boxed mac’n’cheese, and Y/N taught Dean how to mix cocktails with cheap whiskey that actually made it taste nice. The earth was still turning.

But now it had stopped, because Sam was standing in front of him, dripping in holy water and cut across his arm - not a monster or a demon, it was Sam. And Dean didn’t care that he got wet too when he pulled his little brother in for a bone crushing hug, because nothing could be wrong again now that Sam was back in his arms. At least, that’s what he’d thought two hours ago. Because now, as his wrists were getting rope burn and his ears were ringing with Y/N’s soft whimpers he knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong with Sam.

“Wow, Dean,” Sam had exclaimed when he introduced him to Y/N, who had been cooking dinner when he showed up at Dean’s door. “He’s lucky he met you first, darling.” Sam’s eyes dragged up and down her body hungrily, and Dean was taken aback because that was not like Sam at all. Usually Dean was the horndog between the two of them but, I guess you would get pretty horny being dead for a year, Dean reasoned to himself. He remembered that feeling, after he got back from Hell, of wanting something to really make him feel alive again. It would just be nice if Sam didn’t use his girlfriend to feel that.

But as the evening progressed, and dinner turned into drinks, and beer turned into liquor, Dean felt more and more like he might not get a say in the matter. Sam was all over Y/N, flirting harder than Dean had ever seen him flirt, and way better than Dean remembered him being at it, come to think of it. And Y/N wasn’t turning him away. She was laughing and smiling and getting him another drink, and being the perfect goddamn housewife all while Dean was sitting there watching the two of them.

And then when Y/N brought him a refill on his whiskey she shot Dean a look that he’d only seen once before, when she’d asked if they could take home the cute waitress so Dean could watch. Back then, Dean had thought he had the best damn girlfriend ever. He essentially got a front row seat to one of his favourite pornos. But the thought of her sleeping with Sammy... Dean wasn’t wild about that one. Except he didn’t know how to say that to Y/N and Sam, so he just kept drinking and hoped it didn’t come up. He wasn’t so lucky.

He tried to step in, when Sam put his hand on Y/N’s thigh and dug his fingers in - Dean gritted his teeth and choked out a cautious “Sam…” but the warning died in his throat when he looked into his little brother’s eyes and saw empty determination and cold hunger. He didn’t see his brother. “Y/N get away from him!” Dean shouted and reached for the knife stashed in the end table next to him, but Sam was faster, drawing his own and shoving it threateningly under Dean’s chin.

“Whatcha doing there, Dean?”

“What are you?”

“I’m your brother,” Sam teased, lips curled in an ugly imitation of Sam’s warm smile.

“What happened to you down there?” Dean demanded, because if this was Sam, something changed - something was different.

“Oh so much, big brother,” Sam laughed but there was no emotion behind it. “Learned a few things too. How ‘bout I show ya?” And now Dean’s hands were tied above his head with his own goddamn rope on his own goddamn bed, while Y/N was laid out between his legs with her head on his stomach as his own goddamn brother went down on her.

“Mm, you’ve got such a good little pussy, sweetheart,” Sam sighed, sucking on her clit and pulling a whine from her lips. Y/N’s breath ghosted over Dean’s naked cock, making it twitch despite his best efforts to be disgusted at what was happening right now. “Hope Dean’s been giving this cunt the attention it deserves.”

Y/N whimpered a little, but didn’t answer, prompting Sam to slap between her legs. “My brother been treating you good? Giving you enough cock to keep a pretty thing like you happy?”

“Yes,” Y/N gasped, clenching around the fingers Sam had just pushed inside her. “Yeah he’s good - mmh - so good to me,” she moaned.

“Yeah?” Sam sneered, twisting his fingers to push against Y/N’s clit and make her writhe. “What’s he best at? I’ve always wondered when I heard the moans from the next room.”

“Sam…” Dean complained, finding his impertinent big brother tone despite the situation he was in at the moment.

“His mouth,” Y/N sighed, happy to answer despite Dean’s protest. “I love his mouth, it’s so soft… and when he kisses you, it can take your breath away.”

“How romantic,” Sam smirked. “Always knew Dean was a bit of a softie deep down.”

“Fuck you,” Dean growled, pulling uselessly against his restraints again.

“Ladies first,” Sam laughed, and pulled his fingers from Y/N and sucked them clean, eyes boring into Dean’s while he swallowed his girlfriend’s slick. “Turn around baby, get on Dean’s cock,” Sam directed, landing a slap on Y/N’s ass when she turned and crawled over Dean. She shivered when she pressed his cock against her entrance, pulsing down slowly, working him inside her bit by bit.

“Oh look at you,” Sam cooed, brushing her hair off her shoulder so he could bite into her neck, pulling a moan from her chest. “Such a good girl teasing him like that, I didn’t even have to tell you to.” Y/N smiled to herself as she finally got Dean fully seated inside her, revelling in the stretch and fullness of it all. “How did Dean manage to find such a good little slut, huh?”

Y/N giggled lightly but didn’t say anything, just rolled her hips, drawing a gasp from Dean, whose eyes were squeezed tight in pleasure. Y/N felt so good around his dick. And he hated to admit it but he was in fucking heaven right now. This was so, so wrong but it was so hot, every other thought was being pushed out of his mind for the moment. He just wanted Y/N to keep moving, and he wanted Sam to keep talking.

Sam wrapped his fingers around the back of Y/N’s neck and shoved her forward, so she was lying chest to chest with Dean. “Give her a kiss Dean. It’s her favourite after all,” he teased. Dean wanted to find some retort to throw back at his brother, but Y/N’s lips were swallowing his before he got a chance, and he decided this was a better use of his breath anyways.

They kissed and licked and moaned as they ground together, Sam watching on and stroking himself lazily. He reached one hand forward and drew lazy patterns on Y/N’s ass which was bouncing so nicely on Dean’s cock. Sam bet it felt amazing to be inside her. “Mm, you’re fucking him so good, Y/N,” Sam praised, petting his hand down her back. “Look so hot with a cock inside you.” He crawled forward and draped himself over the couple, bumping his hips into Y/N’s and grinding against her ass. She moaned happily and fucked back harder, trying to rub against Sam as much as she could without pulling off of Dean.

A choked whine slipped through her lips when Sam’s cock caught between her cheeks and nudged at her other entrance. “Oh,” Sam grinned at her reaction and repeated his motion, pushing against the taut, puckered skin. “You have more in common with Dean than I thought.”

“What?” Y/N panted, confused and distracted by all the sensations she was swimming under.

“What, Dean never told you? Never asked you to fuck him up the ass?”

Dean’s eyes shot open, horrified. How did Sam know?

“You didn’t really think I didn’t know, did you, Dean?” Sam smirked, still rubbing himself against Y/N’s ass, but letting his fingers trail down further, skating over Dean’s inner thigh, making him jump. “You told me about Rhonda Hurley and the panties when I was sixteen, but I knew that wasn’t the whole story. I found the strap on after you picked me up from Stanford. How many girls you given it up to, big brother?”

“Fuck you,” Dean ground out, mortified.

“You know what, I just might,” Sam drew small circles with his fingertip the whole way across Dean’s skin until he reached his target. “What do you think, Y/N, should I give your boyfriend what he wants?”

“God yes,” she gasped, riding Dean hard, head buried in his shoulder.

Sam spit on his fingers and pressed them back against Dean’s ass, teasing his hole until it was nice and slick and he could slide a finger in without too much resistance. Dean was tense, trying to fight what Sam was doing, trying to fight wanting what Sam was doing, but he didn’t think he was strong enough. Sam’s finger twisting inside him actually felt amazing. It had been over a year since he’d let anyone fuck him and god, he had forgotten how fantastic it was, feeling this full, this whole.

Sam felt Dean accept what was happening, felt him relax around him, and took that as his cue to add more spit and another finger. Then another. He pulled them out when he felt Dean was ready and tugged Y/N back so she was sitting up against his chest. “You ready to cum, darling?” He snarled in her ear.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N whined, bouncing faster over Dean, but Sam hoisted her off his brother and sat her down between his legs where they’d started.

“You’re gonna get my cock nice and wet, aren’t you baby? Gonna be good and cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, fuck yes, please,” Y/N begged. Sam slammed in place inside her and didn’t hesitate before fucking her at a furious pace, rubbing his thumb over her clit and pulling scream after scream out of the girl writhing beneath him. He felt, with satisfaction, a surge of heat between her legs, and knew her cum was trickling out from between her thighs.

“Good girl,” Sam huffed, cold smile firmly in place. He pulled out and looked down to see veins of white dripping over his skin. “Got me nice and wet for your boyfriend, good job, sweetheart.” Y/N rolled out of the way, sated and dazed, and anxiously watched Sam climb over Dean and rub his cock between his legs.

Dean groaned, eyes pressed tight, trying to pretend he wasn’t about to let his little brother fuck him. Trying to pretend he didn’t desperately want his little brother to fuck him. But when Sam pushed in he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t love it. It felt so different to having a dildo in his ass, and it was so much better. It was warm, flesh and blood; his flesh and blood. When Dean clenched around him, Sam moaned and thrust harder into his brother. Dean loved how responsive he was, and did it again, earning himself another thrust.

“Think you’re being cute?” Sam panted and glared down at Dean, who smirked up at his little brother with his last vestige of self-respect.

“I think I’m adorable.”

“And I think you’re gonna regret that.”

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #secretsantaficexchange

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lombredanslaeu · 4 years

Text

pure devotion / part two

▸ werewolf! johnny x human reader

▸ read chapter one here

▸ hey! its finally here. it wasnt my plan to do a part two but y’all wanted to see what happens next so here you go. thank you so much for reading the first chapter! enjoy

recap: werewolves are assigned with a soulmate and once they reach the age of 23, they would find who their soulmate is. you have always been in denial about being in love with your best friend, johnny. as the clock struck 10:34 pm - the exact time johnny was born - that’s when you felt the universe unfold within your veins. you are johnny’s soulmate. it would have been a successful fairy tale but johnny loves you too much to let it happen.

It has been almost a week since you and Johnny last talked. You thanked the universe for not letting you cross paths with Johnny in school. It would be dishonest to say that your heart isn’t breaking each second you’re away from him. You miss him, so much. It’s only been 5 days since his birthday but you just want to run to his house and see him again. Your friends grew suspicious about what happened between you two. It’s always been Y/N and Johnny every hour of every week. Now, it’s just you.

“Okay, Y/N, cut the bullshit,” Your friend, Nayeon, along with Yeri and Jungwoo, sat in front of you, demanding for answers. “What’s going on between you and Johnny?”

You rolled your eyes. You appreciate their concern so much but you knew they were gonna demand every details about your misunderstanding. Nayeon, Yeri, and Jungwoo are vampires. Vampires aren’t assigned a soulmate. They are free to choose who they’ll spend the rest of their lives with. Although they are also close friends with Johnny and your other friends who are werewolves, you are skeptical if they would understand or not.

“We just had an argument during his birthday. No big deal.” You replied.

“Uh? Of course, it’s a big deal.” Yeri started. “First, you and Johnny? Not talking for almost a week? Second, you two arguing during his birthday?”

“It’s hard to explain, guys.” You sighed.

“We have all day, Y/N. You know you can always talk to us.” Jungwoo said. “Besides, I’ve never seen Johnny this down before.”

You decided to share what happened that night. You knew in yourself that this will spread like wildfire to your circle of friends, or even worse, throughout the whole school. It has always been a big deal whenever a werewolf is soulmates with a human. They will be nosy and concerned. You don’t mind attention but you certainly don’t want to be pitied at. Your heart also ached at the mention of Johnny being sad. All your life, you felt like it was your duty to make sure Johnny is happy and healthy. Now, you sure will beat yourself later at the thought of you not being brave enough to confront him.

---

It was only 2:00 pm but you felt so tired. You felt like Atlas took a break from carrying the world and used you as a substitute. Jungwoo suggested to talk to Johnny as soon as possible. You understand that. You know that the only solution to whatever it is that you’re feeling right now is to talk to him. See what both of you can compromise. But, your mind is still a haze. It was your future you’re talking about. Whether you make this decision or that, it will affect the rest of your life. You wished things didn’t have to be this way. For the first time in your life, you wished Johnny didn’t exist.

You went home immediately after your last class. Your mother was shocked to see you come home early. You always went places with Johnny and your friends. Yeri invited you to go vinyl shopping with her and Jaehyun but you just weren’t in the mood to be fake happy.

“You look so down, sweetheart.” Your mother said as she sat across you on the kitchen island.

“Mom, I have to tell you something.” You sighed. You hated making your mother worried. But you knew that sharing this with her will help you somehow, hopefully.

Your mother stared intently at you, waiting for you to say whatever you had to say.

“I’m soulmates with Johnny.” You started. She leaned back on her seat, taken aback from your confession. “Remember last Saturday? During his birthday? We just found out that night.”

“Then, why are you so down?” She asked. “He’s your best friend since forever. I trust him and you trust him.”

“I don’t know, mom,” You felt tears form. “It’s just that - I’m scared. You know how risky it is for humans to be mates with werewolves. Remember Mingyu’s mother? She survived the transformation but she died after giving birth. I want to see the whole world when I’m 80, mom. I don’t want to die so young.”

Your mother hugged you. You knew she didn’t have an answer. She was fortunate enough to not be soulmates with a werewolf.

“You know, sweetheart, I had to give up a lot of things when I decided to marry your dad. I had to give up my wild nights with friends, my freedom of being single, the apartment that I loved so much. I loved these things so much because they made me who I am.” She said. “But you know what? I never missed them. I would trade so many of my yesterdays to have a tomorrow with your father. It was scary at first, I almost ran away during our wedding. But every night he would come up to me and make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, I immediately thanked God I never ran away.”

“That’s sweet and all, mom, but you’re not gonna die if you and dad mate.” You said bitterly through tears.

“I know, sweetheart. I know it’s unfair to you. But, I don’t want you to die without the love of your life on your side. Johnny is a good man. He would fight all of the odds for you and you, out of all the people in this world, should know that.” She said. “Our lives are full of risks. This wont be the only risk that you’ll take during your life.”

Later that night, you stared at the polaroid pictures that are glued on your wall. These were pictures of you, Johnny, and your friends. Your eyes landed on a picture of Johnny with a tub of ice cream. He knew you love ice cream so whenever you feel down, rest assured that he will be on your side with a tub of ice cream. He just knew what to do. It was like he was made to be your perfect fit. Almost immediately, you came into the conclusion that you were willing to risk it for Johnny. You were tired of feeling worried over things that haven’t happened yet.

---

You woke up with a livelier spirit than yesterday. You were still worried of what will Johnny say but the only thing you can do for now is not worry about things that haven’t happened. You decided to give him his favorite yogurt and flower as a peace offering. Today, you are willing to sort things out with him. You couldn’t bear another day with things not okay between you two. Before you left your house, you asked the sky above to give you a sign. You were willing to take whatever sign it gives you.

You entered the lecture hall and noticed that everyone’s mood was gloomy. Your professor, Mrs. Bae, was already in front with a sad frown on her face. Did someone die today? She waited for two more people to arrive before speaking. You were worried that it might be someone from your circle or worse, Johnny.

“We received the news early this morning that one of your classmate, Kim Soohyun, passed away last night.” She spoke. “Let’s give a moment of silence for her, her family, her friends, and her significant other, Choi Hansol.”

Your breath hitched when Mrs. Bae mentioned Hansol as her significant other. Hansol belonged to Johnny’s pack, meaning he is a werewolf. And Soohyun was human. As if on cue, Nayeon whispered to you.

“I heard she died from transformation.” She looked at you with so much worry on her eyes.

Your heart was beating so much and you started to struggle catching up with it. Today was supposed to be the day you agree on being Johnny’s mate. You shouldn’t have asked for a sign. Earlier, you were so sure of your decisions. Now, you weren’t sure if you wanna see Johnny today. Looks like the universe really fucking hates your guts. You were supposed to have your peace of mind. You looked down at the yogurt and flower that you were supposed to give Johnny. You refused to believe that Soohyun’s death was a sign for you to rethink your decision but sooner or later, you found yourself throwing the flower to the nearest garbage bin and eating Johnny’s yogurt.

---

Day by day, you feel your friendship with Johnny deteriorating slowly. Soohyun’s death shouldn’t have affected you so much but for some strange reason, it did.

“You’re really not gonna fix anything by avoiding your problems.” Your friend, Jaehyun spoke beside you. You really shouldn’t be talking to him because you knew as one of Johnny’s closest friend, he would never stop convincing you to talking with Johnny. Jaehyun was also a member of Johnny’s pack. Jaehyun’s father is Johnny’s father’s right hand, meaning he is the beta of the pack. Jaehyun and Johnny are so close to each other, probably much closer than you and Johnny. You knew he would always have Johnny’s back just like you do. So, it doesn’t surprise you if he wanted to fix the problem between you and Johnny.

“How is he?” You asked, genuinely concerned for Johnny.

“To be really honest, I don’t think he can graduate if this problem doesn’t get solved.” He replied. “You probably think that I’m exaggerating this for you to talk to him immediately. Our graduation is just around the corner. If you don’t want to put your future at risk, at least don’t try to put his on a tight rope as well.”

You hated the fact that he was right. You were starting to feel selfish, too cowardly. Johnny was always brave whenever you needed help. It was time you became brave for him.

---

The loud music blasted through the walls of Lucas’ house. Here is where all the college parties are held. Lucas is also one of your closest friends. He’s a human who is dating Wendy, a vampire. Tonight was the farewell party of the graduating class of this year. You weren’t in the mood to come but you knew Johnny was gonna be here since he one of the graduating students.

You decided to get at least a little bit tipsy before you confront Johnny. With the help of your ever-supportive friends, your mind was hazy immediately. It was not a hassle for you to find him in parties. He is either playing beer pong, in the kitchen mixing up drinks with Taeyong, or in the dance floor with the other friends you shared. You spotted him standing quietly near the snacks corner. You know the reason why he isn’t as upbeat as he usually is. You stood next to him and he immediately noticed you. You didn’t know what to do or what to say.

“Hi.” You squeaked out.

“Hey,” He replied, giving you a warm smile. The smile that you fell in love with. You haven’t seen that smile in a while.

“I would give anything to see that smile for the rest of your life” It took you a few seconds to realize that you said that out loud. Damn this cocktail.

“Yeah, nice to see you again too, Y/N,” You noticed how his mood seemed to lit up. He looked down on you. You both haven’t said so much but he knew that things are finally okay. He got the picture.

“So, is this your response about what he learned during my birthday?” He said, lifting his cup to drink whatever is left of the drink.

“Yeah, look. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I put you through hell because I was too much of a coward to talk to you. I’m sorry that I left you all confused and-” Your ranting got cut off when you felt his soft lips against yours. Each movement of his lips signifies his undying love for you. It signifies how he will always forgive you and accept your flaws that annoyed him to the core. It signifies that he wanted you to know that you were his and he was yours, forever. He lead you through the balcony of Lucas’ house, where no one was present.

“I love you,” You said after you pulled away. “I’m willing to risk everything for you. I would trade all my tomorrows for at least a minute with you.”

You didn’t realize that you were crying until he was wiping your cheeks with his thumb. His hands still cups your face as he stares down at you. You were expecting him to say the same but all you saw his head shaking from left to right.

“No,” he whispered. “I love you too, Y/N, so much. I’ve loved you for as long as I could remember. All the nights we spent tangled up in each other and telling one another how we’re just friends. All the make out session we had in the back of my car. The best of times, the worst of times. I’ve loved you through it all. But I can’t do this to you, Y/N. You deserve to live the best life you’ve set up for yourself until you grow old and wrinkly.”

You stared at him, tears flowing from your eyes. He hated seeing you cry. He could kill anyone or anything that made you cry. “You can do this with me, Johnny. If I die, at least I die by your side. I will die knowing that you made me yours. And to the die by your side is the perfect way I could die.”

He continued shaking his head, his own tears staining his flawless skin. “We don’t have to transform you.”

“But you need an heir. You need an offspring to be the next alpha after you.” You replied. “And I want to give that to you.”

“God knows how much I want to start a family with you too.” He said.

“Then, what’s stopping you, Johnny?” You asked him. You were so desperate to leave this party with you and Johnny being okay.

“I love you. That’s what’s stopping me.” He responded. The effects of the alcohol was slowly leaving your system. You were growing tired of this fight. You were never a patient woman but you pushed through just to make this right.

You remained in silence, looking up at the starry night. You asked the sky for one more sign. If only the answer to everything was written in the sky, you would have it all by now. But life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes, you have to ruin yourself to find the answer.

“I accepted a job offer in the city today. I leave in 2 days.” He said all of sudden. There. There was your sign. You sighed and look at him, with pride and sadness. You were so proud of him. You saw him struggle with college and now he immediately has a job in the city. But you were also sad. He accepted it without even talking to you - his best friend, and his soulmate. You couldn’t blame him. He probably wanted to get away from you after everything.

---

Johnny leaves for the city tomorrow morning. You have wallowed in self-pity the whole day. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw how wrecked you looked. If only you fixed this as soon as possible, he probably wouldn’t leave. You scratched that thought out of your head. That was selfish. Johnny pushed aside his feeling for you so that you could have your dream. It’s time for you to stop being selfish and let him have his. You decided you wanted to see him before he left. This will probably the last time you will see each other so you were determined to fix the broken bond between you two.

You arrived at his house after a few minutes. His house wasn’t far from yours. The moment he opened his door, you attached your lips into his. You kissed him as if you’re begging for him to not leave you. He lead you both to his room and locked the door.

He kissed you first on the lips and soon, he traveled down your neck. The back of your needs hit the edge of his bed and he gently laid you down on it. It’s been a while since the last time you slept together. You weren’t planning on sleeping with him tonight but you wanted to make sure his last night with you was worth it.

It took an hour for the both of you to finish making love. Your head laid on his chest as your limbs tangled upon each other.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You announced.

“Yep,” He responded. His fingers drew relaxing figures on your bare back. “Okay.”

You looked up at him, confusion written on your face. What did he mean by “okay”?

Sensing your inquiring stare, he responded, “I can’t accept a life wherein I don’t get to hold you every night.”

He sat up on the edge of his bed, the moonlight that shone through his window lighted up his face. You followed, resting your chin on his shoulder as your arms wrapped around his body savoring the last moments before he leaves for the city.

“Find me immediately after you design a house, a building, something.” He said with conviction, staring deeply into your eyes as if wanting you to memorize what he is saying. “Find me immediately. I will wait for you. Even if it takes a couple more years.”

You felt tears streaming down your cheeks. You love him so much. You would take any compromise only if it means being with him in the end. You nodded, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

“No other love, except me.” He stated.

“No other love, only you.” You said.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this! as always, feedback and requests are always welcome.

#johnny suh #johnny seo #johnny x reader #johnny imagines #nct johnny #seo youngho #johnny angst #johnny fluff #johnny scenarios #johnny drabbles #nct 127

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aijee · 3 years

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hello aijee!! what are your thoughts on mingyu and wonwoo's bittersweet?

Oh anon. Oh anon, anon, anon. I have very many feelings about this remarkable intersection of ley lines. I’m sure the WWxMG spheres of the Internet are in some state of madness, and I felt like my meager offerings would be nothing in comparison. But you are now my excuse to write up a Pandora's box answer that I've done my best to organize below the cut. It’s honestly not that exhaustive, but I have to catch a flight soon.

The short of it is: I really liked it! It was nice to see WW/MG doing something distinctly not hip-hop, or eye candy-centric, or “let’s fight over this random girl for no reason other than to give (female) fans the feeling of being sandwiched between two hot guys.” The urban imagery was also wonderful. I’m a big, big sucker for Japanese films set in cities in the 80s/90s, so this video definitely hit a specific aesthetic nerve for me. ALSO LEEHI MY BAE!!

But, fair disclaimer, I do have some reservations. Nothing is perfect!

The song itself

It was refreshing to hear a softer song with WW and MG doing so much of the vocals. I’m so used to eleven other guys contributing (I’m personally a bigger fan of the group/non-solo tracks), it was almost jarring to hear only two male voices in something very much not hip-hop or rapping. And LeeHi? My ex-YG BABEE?? I honestly wished I heard more of her!! And saw her in the video! Her voice was a perfect addition to a song that sounds more, as its name suggests, bittersweet.

I feel like all three of the artists involved have a much more dynamic range that could have been utilized, even for a muted tone. The song overall doesn’t really stand out to me, especially within Seventeen’s wonderful discography and selection of ballads. The instrumental was kinda weak ngl. But I still very much enjoyed the song! The lyrics from an English-speaking standpoint were also very lovely and definitely struck the heart on my sleeve, as you can imagine from the types of themes I tend to write about. Kudos to MG and WW for participating in it! Always love seeing SVT showing off their creative chops.

The video/cinematography

Frankly, I wasn’t impressed by it. 3.5/5 stars. I’m personally not a big fan of the blurry type of slow motion. I get that, perhaps, it was meant to evoke a sense of reminiscing on old memories, which can be blurry and choppy. But I felt like those extra seconds could have been used for more evocative cinematography between the trio or combinations thereof. There was so much potential to have a more unified sense of “story.” I felt like the acting really carried it, but overall the visual artistry didn’t hold together in my opinion.

I also thought that the imagery paired with the lyrics was often too on-the-nose. (Take this with a grain of salt from someone who doesn’t know Korean, only the official English translations.) In other words, I thought that the shots could be too literal when paired with the lyrics.Yes, yes, eyes are are meeting but something still feels far apart because the girl ain’t lookin at WW. Yes, yes, the scent of a moment fills hands because we see a glass of alcohol in presumably WW’s hand. I do like that the lyrics actually match the video to some degree (since so many Kpop MVs are just dancing in a fancy room), but, again, it felt too one-to-one without much thought otherwise.

Also, those AirPods lmao. I don’t know why, but that took me out of the immersion. WW and MG had one each, and I’d be knocking furniture down at that observation if they both weren’t wearing right-side pods, thus eliminating the possibility of sharing. Imagine!! Turning the act of sharing AirPods into something symbolic! Remembering things when someone else “plays that old tune”, being disconnected and connected at the same time, etc. To think that I’d be yell-writing about the potential symbolism of AirPods...

The duo/trio

My first thought seeing this video was: Are Mingyu and Wonwoo okay with this? They clearly had a say in the lyrics, so I feel like they’re okay. Instinctually, I get concerned about how a company can push idols pairings in official content to the point of undermining the real-life relationship; I felt like WW, as a naturally shyer and introverted person, stepped back from the WonGyu pairing at some point. I think this was a bigger concern in the group’s earlier years, and I feel like they and the fandom have matured significantly over time. Fans reading this are certainly free to educate me on their takes regarding this, since I follow Seventeen’s official content more (as much as I am able to, at least) than fan content, like fancams, and I try not to make too many legit assumptions based on official content.

All this being said, I think they looked really comfortable with each other in the video! Which I loved the most, honestly. The premise didn’t didn’t feel like guys fighting over a girl (yawn). I’m not a fan of the overused K-Pop trope of “let’s have a random girl act as a stand-in for fans to feel like they’re being pursued by their oppars.” I felt like, while MG and WW expressed clear interest in the girl, there was interest expressed in each other as well—especially MG towards WW in my opinion, cont’d below. And the interest was never forced to be romantic, even though it could be! LOVE that for them. (I highly recommend reading up on “queer platonic relationships”, which a friend of mine taught me recently. Made the mistake of writing “romantic” instead of “platonic” so sorry 😬)

Motherfuckin Kim Mingyu AKA my interpretation of the story

*I did read the little summary in the description box about “three longtime friends”, but I’m choosing to ignore it because I don’t think the video portrays that well and I like my interpretation better haha!

That sequence of WW putting a hat on MG, with WW’s fond but exasperated face of a hyung (I’m okay, not okay).

The cut from that shot of WW and the girl breathing heavy and looking at MG, to MG staring vacantly behind a rained-on glass window (I close my eyes but thoughts of you...).

The way MG steps out first into the rain and smiles back at WW in that last sequence of shots (Eyes meeting but hearts apart); MG looks so content despite the sadness usually meant to be evoked by dramatic rain sequences.

As someone who normally connects with WW, I really connected to MG’s character this time around. I interpreted MG’s character as going through a really complex series of emotions towards both the girl and WW, platonic, romantic or otherwise. It’s hard to pin down, but the small age difference between him and WW felt so much more apparent in the MV. I almost got the impression that maybe MG’s character felt new, naive and lost in the city (he has a few shots of wandering or being in front of urban areas). Then he found stability with the girl and WW, the consequence being the whirlwind of feelings he must be experiencing because of them. I wish there was more exposition hinting at what happened to the girl, since she sorta just...blipped out of existence by the end.

At the start of the MV, WW’s character looked like he was at the end of his rope, drinking away his woes, maybe because of what seems like a nice job based on the suit. But then he found solace in the female bartender, who was kind and had open ears. The two of them became friends (maybe more, perhaps one-sided in WW’s disfavor). Then WW met MG through her. He saw MG’s character as a cute dongsaeng to be nice to, mostly on the whims of the girl, even dancing with them after closing time. But maybe WW’s character started having complicated feelings for MG’s character throughout it all. He started seeing MG more (more than the girl? Hard to say), based on how he was staring at MG at the end of the running sequence at around 2:08, not even looking back at the girl. He ended up liking MG so much, that he followed MG into the rain despite them both avoiding it, staying indoors, before the end sequence.

That’s sort of the dirty and quick of my initial thoughts. Honestly, I wish I had the energy and speed to throw out a proper written work because I LOVE stories that are basically just complicated feelings with relationship boundaries that are hard to define. Also, gotta say, that little sassy look the female actress gave at around 0:30 was real cute. 👀

#askaijee #might as well be an aijeepost

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

Early Leaf’s a Flower: 4/11

Now we reach the part of the story that has me nervous even though I am immensely proud of it. Emma and Killian will be separated for a bit here in the middle, but I just need ya'll to hang with me and trust me, okay? This is where the "fate" part of the summary begins to come into play.

This is also when Emma meets Neal and Killian meets Milah. I am writing these relationships more along the lines of being young and making immature decisions rather than villainizing Neal and Milah. In canon, Neal and Milah were both significantly older than Emma and Killian (which is an interesting parallel I have never thought much about before, come to think of it), but in this story, all four of them are the same age (17). There is no relation whatsoever between Neal and Milah in this story. Neal is also just Neal, not Bae. In other words, he has no connection to the fairy tale realms. He's just another runaway teenager.

I have to once again thank the mods of the @captainswanbigbang , and my betas @shippingtheswann, @distant-rose, and @optomisticgirl for believing in this fic, especially this section and for encouraging me when I doubted myself. I especially want to give a shout out to Ro who encouraged me to write Milah in the way I had envisioned instead of changing her character to please the fandom.

So, fingers crossed, here we go! Got your tissues ready?

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: Around 7k in this chapter (all chapters will be rather lengthy from here on out)

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 17

Emma wipes at her cheeks, frustrated with herself for crying. Those people don’t deserve her tears. She plops down on the bench in front of the bus stop in downtown Bangor, Maine, the one bag she always keeps packed at her feet. She’s fully aware of what running away at seventeen means.

There will be no more chances.

That makes her frustrated with herself, too. The fact that a tiny part of her still clings to hope, even now. Even after the words her foster father spoke just this evening.

“We have to think of our children, Emma, if you’re going to act this way.”

“Our” children - and that didn’t include her. They didn’t even wait to hear her side of the story. They never asked why she got into the fight in the first place and never once thought that maybe the pot in her book bag wasn’t even hers. It was clear how they saw her - a screwed up orphan who couldn’t be trusted.

She sees the bus coming towards her, and she snatches her bag. She’s not sure how far she can get on the cash she’s got, but any place is better than here. She never belonged in the suburbs anyway.

All she has in her pocket is a little cash that she lifted from her former foster mother’s purse. Portland - that’s how far the cash gets her, with a few bucks left over. She blows it all on a grilled cheese and onion rings in a greasy diner next to the bus stop. She gets as many refills of her soda as she can before the waitress starts to get suspicious.

A year in the suburbs has made Emma rusty, and she wastes way too much time wandering around the city. She hopes that she’s at least walking with a purpose. The most important rule on the streets is to never show vulnerability or weakness.

It begins to rain, and she needs a place to sleep. The corner of her mouth kicks up in the hint of a smile when she sees what’s a block ahead near the pier. It’s a carnival, closed for the season. Better yet, there’s a gap in the gate of the chain link just wide enough for a slender girl to slip through. Surely there’s a warm, dry place to spend the night somewhere on the grounds.

As Emma walks around the silent carnival, she has to admit that it’s a bit eerie. The swings move subtly in the breeze, their chains clanking. Rain pelts the colorful awnings and drips down the boarded up booths. The rain starts to come down harder, and Emma dashes across the grounds with her hoodie over her head. It’s getting dark fast.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

The voice is jolting in the abandoned setting, and Emma’s feet move faster. She clambers aboard a dark carousel just as the pouring rain turns into a full blown storm. The wind whistles around the still carousel, and lightning illuminates the immobile faces of horses, zebras, and unicorns.

Emma hears the shouts again, almost inaudible over the storm, and she drops down on all fours. She scrambles beneath the feet of the wooden menagerie to the very center of the carousel. She presses her back against the wood, heart pounding.

The beam of a flashlight cuts through the darkness, and Emma claps her hands to her mouth as if that can help cloak her from the light.

“Who’s there?”

Emma’s hands slip from her face as she realizes that it isn’t the voice of an adult. Still, she looks around frantically, hoping to see a service door somewhere. A security guard would call the cops, but another teenager might do something ten times worse to a girl alone out here. Emma can’t see a damn thing between the flashes of lightning, so she crawls along the edges of the center of the carousel, hands groping for an opening.

“Hey, stop!” the voice shouts again, and the light of the flashlight blinds Emma. Hands reach out, but she fights against them. “Stop it, I’m not gonna hurt you!”

The only reason she believes him is because he releases her. Her eyes blink open, but all she can see is a shadowy figure leaning over her. The flashlight is rolling away on the floor of the carousel. The lightning flashes again, just long enough to show her the face of a teenage boy. They’re plunged back into darkness, however, just as quickly.

“You a runaway too?”

“Too?”

“Hey listen,” he says, gently touching her arm, “I’m gonna go get my flashlight, okay? Don’t run off.”

Emma isn’t sure if it’s his youth or her fear of the storm that keeps her where she is. He comes back, shining the flashlight at her feet so he doesn’t blind her again. When he hunkers down in front of her, the light fully illuminates him, and she’s able to get a good look at him: extremely thick, slightly curly brown hair that falls into his dark brown eyes, a boyish smile, and a nose that’s a tad too large for his face. The hoodie he’s wearing is stained, ripped, and soaked from the rain.

“I’m Neal,” he tells her, “Neal Cassidy.”

She simply regards him suspiciously.

“This is the part where you tell me your name,” he adds with a grin.

Emma turns away from his gaze and crosses her arms stubbornly. He sighs.

“I get it, I really do, but you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she snaps.

“If you want to survive, you do,” he replies solemnly. “Now, do you wanna see where we sleep or not? Cause it’s a lot better than this carousel.”

“We?”

Killian: Age 17

“Man overboard!”

The crew of the Jolly Roger rush to get ropes as soon as the words leave Curly’s mouth from where he stands guard in the crow’s nest. It’s a mission they’ve been through many times, fishing lost boys out of the water.

“Starboard!” Curly yells, and they hurry to that side of the ship.

The Jolly Roger, despite being captained by a boy of seventeen, is still the finest ship to sail the seas in any realm, just as it was under its other name - The Jewel of the Realm. And despite its crew ranging in age from twelve to eighteen, her familiar outline shimmering on the horizon is already enough to strike fear in the hearts of the most experienced sailors. For one, the Jolly Roger with its pegasus sail has been known to drop upon a ship from the skies above. Then there are the tales of the demon pirate children and their one-handed captain, stories that have almost reached the status of legend. Enough so that Hook and his crew have to shed very little blood. Their intent is to avenge the death of Liam Jones, and to that end, crippling the navy of King George is enough.

Killian Jones is no longer the navy's disciplined sailor he was a year ago, but more importantly, he also is no longer a boy. Plenty of sailors underestimate him because of his age, but few seventeen year olds carry the experience or the tragedy of Captain Hook.

As for Pan, Killian hasn’t forgotten the day he slashed his brother with dreamshade. Though Captain Hook longs for a more violent revenge, the best he can do for the moment is rescue Pan’s boys from thinning, and occasionally, save a boy from Pan’s shadow. Not all boys come to Peter willingly, and many used to perish in the waves around the island until Hook started fishing them out of the water. Both practices have caused The Jolly Roger’s crew to swell over the past year.

On this particular day, his crew is fishing their latest recruit out of the water. Two in as many days? Pan doesn’t usually send his shadow out that frequently. Then again, he’d thinned a few recently. No matter how hard the pirates try to save them, not all Lost Boys realize the intent of their leader until it’s too late. Hook’s current cabin boy also fought off the shadow just yesterday. Killian grins as he thinks of Pan’s frustration. He lounges against a few barrels, crossing his legs at the ankles, and casually watches his crew work the ropes. He arches a brow as the wet figure flops to the deck.

“Looks like it’s a pirate’s life for you, boy,” he says. As the “boy” stands, Captain Hook finds himself speechless, something that hasn’t happened in well over a year.

The entire crew gasps, for standing before them, dripping wet, chest heaving, and fire in her eyes is not a lost boy but a lost girl. She wears a corseted dress that shows off an ample amount of her bosom, and Hook’s been in enough ports to know a lady of the night when he sees one. Yet she is, indeed, a girl. Not a woman. Anger flashes clearly in his suddenly darkening eyes. His crew misinterprets it as frustration towards the girl herself. They all eye her warily and step a few paces away from her.

Hook draws closer to her, removing his long leather duster as he does so. She lifts her chin defiantly, almost hiding the shiver that courses through her body. He swings the duster towards her, the words of a gentleman on his tongue, but she slaps his hand away. The crew murmurs nervously, but all Hook does is smirk at her.

“You are cold, lass, I was offering my coat.”

“I don’t need your charity,” she spits, “all I need is to find someone, and I’ll be on my way.”

Killian’s brow arches as he regards her. “I see. Unfortunately for you, that will be rather difficult to accomplish without the aid of me and my crew.”

She props her hands on her hips and scowls at him. “Doubtful.”

He draws closer and leans forward to whisper in her ear. “No. Fact.”

She narrows her stormy gray eyes at him, and he’s close enough to see the swirls of blue in them. Some of her dark curls have stuck to her wet face, and he wants to reach out and brush them away, but he refrains. She strikes him as the type of lass who would not welcome such a gesture.

A sudden, high pitched shout of delight breaks the tension, and the girl lets out a cry as she shoves past Killian. She falls to her knees in front of Hook’s new cabin boy, a lad of only six, and envelops him in her arms.

“Mason!” she says, her hard facade slipping away as she holds the boy tight and cries with joy. “I’ve been so worried ever since that shadow -”

“It’s okay!” the boy interrupts with childish exuberance. He rushes over to his Captain and tugs on his hook. “Captain Hook let me join his crew! I’m his cabin boy!”

Those eyes of hers become tumultuous again, and Killian regards her in contemplation. The boy is six, the lad told him so, but surely this girl can’t be his mother. He knows, however, that not all the girls in the brothels are of age, nor are they all there by choice. He guesses the young lady before him would have had to give birth at the age of only thirteen, at the most, if she truly is the boy’s mother.

“What have you been doing to him?” she snaps.

“Taking care of him,” Killian says calmly but with authority, “and a thank you would be in order that we fished him out of the sea.”

“And kept him hidden from Peter Pan,” Starkey, his first mate, adds.

Killian kneels before Mason. “How about you go below and get some hardtack from cook while I talk to your -”

“Sister. And her name is Milah.”

Killian lets out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, your sister.”

“Okay!” Mason chirps as he skips off. Killian watches him go fondly. They normally don’t take on boys as young as he is, but Mason had fought the shadow tooth and nail where most lads his age are eager to see The Neverland. He sees a jadedness in the boy’s eyes that is much too familiar.

Killian stands and turns to Mason’s sister. He bows. “Milah, I believe it is?”

“Yes,” she says coolly.

“If I may have a word with you, m’lady?”

She tosses her hair saucily over one shoulder, yet takes the arm he offers her anyway. He glares at his crew and shouts for them to get back to work. He and Milah stroll to the ship’s bow.

“May I ask,” he begins, knowing he must proceed with caution, “how you managed to follow your brother here?”

Milah sighs and lets go of his arm. “A week ago, Mason told me about the shadow coming to our window. He said it whispered to him about a place where orphan boys can be free. I’m ashamed to say that I brushed it off as a dream.”

“But it kept coming back.”

Milah nods. “It began to frighten Mason, too. He said that the shadow wanted to take him away from me. I told him to keep the window locked. I have to work nights, you see . . . “ Milah trails off, a blush rising to her cheeks as she looks away from him in shame.

“Hey,” Killian says softly, turning her chin gently towards him, “I was sold as a slave when I wasn’t much older than Mason. I know what it means to just survive.”

She holds his gaze for only a moment before turning away, her hard demeanor back in place. “Anyway, I came home one night to see the shadow for myself, but it already had Mason. I lunged for my brother, but it was too late, the shadow was flying away with him.”

“Then how did you get here?” He glances up at the pegasus sail fluttering above them. “It is no easy feat, lass.”

Milah smiles with a bit of pride behind her eyes. “I went to a sorceress in the village square. It took far too much of my coin, but she had the information I sought. She said if I stood before my open window and said I believe, the shadow would come for me.”

“And it did,” Killian says, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

She nods. “Aye, but the sorceress warned me not to let the shadow take me all the way to the island. I wasn’t sure why, but figured I should listen, so -”

“So here we are.” Killian leans against the railing, admiring the way the sea air rustles her curls. She shivers again, and he once again offers his coat. This time, she accepts.

“Here we are,” she says, suddenly shy. He sees now a hint of her real age.

“How old are you?” he asks gently, hoping she won’t take the question as anything more than genuine curiosity.

She bites her bottom lip as she clutches his duster tighter. “Seventeen.”

His cheeks dimple with the force of his smile. “So am I .”

“Are you serious?” Her jaw drops. “The fearsome Captain Hook is just a boy?”

“A boy!”

She laughs teasingly, then cocks her head at him. “So, does the offer still stand?”

He tilts his head. “Offer?”

“You know, a pirate’s life for me.”

He reaches out and adjusts the heavy coat that rests on her slim shoulders. “Yes, Milah. I think you’ll make a damn good pirate.”

Emma: Age 17

Emma stares out across the dark carnival grounds, pushing the swing around idly with her foot. She hears chains clink behind her and sighs wearily.

“Hey,” Neal says, grasping the chains of her swing and spinning her to face him.

“Hey.”

He searches her face and gives her a boyish grin. “Don’t let them get to you, Ems.”

She says nothing. She searches his eyes, for what she isn’t sure. He tugs the swing forward and captures her lips in a kiss. She kisses him back for a moment, then pushes gently on his chest.

“I’m still mad at you,” she grumbles.

He shakes his head and chuckles, which causes Emma a tiny prick of irritation. He lifts the metal bar of the swing nearest her and sits, his long, awkward teenage legs sprawled out on either side of hers.

“They were just messing with us. They know we’re a thing, so -”

“It was my first time, Neal!” Emma snaps before he can finish.

“It’s not like I planned it or anything,” he shoots back, still with that infuriating grin on his face, “one thing led to another -”

“I was there, Neal,” she tells him dryly.

“My point is, I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.”

Emma blushes as the memories of the night before come back to her. “You said they wouldn’t be able to hear us.”

“I didn’t know you were going to moan that loud.”

She kicks him, but can’t help smiling shyly at his teasing. He leans forward and yanks her swing close to his until their noses are brushing.

“I also didn’t know you were going to cry out my name like that.”

She bites her lip at the heated look in his eyes. Honestly, she had yelped his name more than crying it out. It had hurt at first, but she’s too embarrassed to tell him that.

“I . . . “ she swallows thickly as he presses a kiss right at the corner of her mouth, “Neal, I . . . “

“Yes?” he mumbles against her neck.

Emma stops the explorations of his lips with her hands to his cheeks so she can look him in the eye. “I think . . . that is, I . . . I love you, Neal.”

He smiles brightly then, pulling her close and kissing her with incredible passion. He doesn’t say anything back, doesn’t say he loves her too. She tells herself that’s okay, though. After all, they’re only seventeen.

*************************************

Lily is the leader. Emma isn’t sure exactly how that came to be, though she guesses it has something to do with Lily’s intimidating demeanor. There’s something darkly intense about her, an edge behind her dusky eyes that makes everyone in their crew afraid to question her authority.

There are seven of them, including Emma, forming a loose sort of family. Neal had been correct that first night - the supply warehouse they’re squatting in is a much better place to crash than the carousel. It’s a slightly macabre final resting place for anything broken or out of use, from rusted coaster cars to broken haunted house furniture. There’s even an old red sleigh and a troupe of ten-foot tall nutcrackers when the carnival had apparently been open for the holidays.

Neal was also telling the truth that they’re all runaways. Emma, however, is the only actual orphan. Truth be told, she secretly thinks the rest of them are all a little self absorbed in their reasons to leave home. Neal’s dad apparently had become angry and bitter after his mother’s death. Emma has to keep from rolling her eyes every time Neal tells her how the man “just didn’t understand him anymore.” Claudia and Jamie felt overlooked in a big family, Sam just longed for adventure, and August chafed against his father’s rules. Then there’s Lily, adopted as an infant by parents who she claims never loved her and - naturally - didn’t understand her. The whole “they don’t understand me” thing is a constant refrain, and one Emma is frankly a little tired of hearing.

When Neal had brought her to the group that first night, he’d gone straight to Lily who had regarded Emma, shivering and dripping water on the concrete floor, with casual disdain. Then her mouth had ticked up into a smile that Emma couldn’t quite read.

“Welcome to the family,” she’d told her, and only then had the rest of the group even approached her. They’d each carved out space amongst all the junk, using bits of this and pieces of that to make beds. There wasn’t really a “bed” for Emma, though, so Neal had offered to share his. When Jamie, who is only thirteen, snickered, Emma had blushed and said she’d figure something else out.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” Lily had snapped with a roll of her eyes, “we already know he wants to fuck you. Emma’s staying with Neal, and that’s just how it is.”

She’d said the last as if it were a royal proclamation, and everyone had scattered to go to bed for the night. Neal’s face had been bright red, and he’d not only mumbled an apology, but had been a perfect gentleman that first night.

But only the first night. And now here she is, in the first real relationship of her young life, and five other kids heard every word of it. It’s humiliating and degrading. Yet Emma knows better than to mess this thing up. Lily’s crew means protection, it means seven kids pulling cons and picking pockets and sharing the spoils. And it may not be the family she’s spent her whole life dreaming of, but it’s better than being alone.

Emma isn’t sure where Neal is at the moment. She’s attempting to get a moment to herself, hidden behind the broken down cotton candy machine that makes one “wall” of the “bedroom” she shares with Neal. Claudia had swiped a pad of paper and some pencils from a discount store yesterday and hadn’t minded sharing with Emma. It’s been years since she’s sketched, but inspiration struck. Her pencil flies across the paper, and when she’s finished, tears sting inexplicably at the corner of her eyes. It’s the wardrobe. She bites on her lower lip and swallows back a sudden lump in her throat. She remembers the sparkle in Killian’s eyes and a bit of sadness sweeps over her as she wonders where he is right now. She shakes her head and crumples the paper in her hand. Why the hell is she thinking about that wardrobe today?

“Emma?”

She jolts and turns to see Jamie standing there. “Neal wanted me to give you this,” he tells her as he hands her a piece of paper.

Emma rolls her eyes as she takes the paper from him. “You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Jamie.”

His grin only gets wider. “Did Claude tell you she swiped some ear plugs for me? She doesn’t want your sex noises corrupting me.”

She jumps up to smack the kid across his smug face, but he darts away laughing before she can reach him. Letting out a frustrated huff of breath, she opens the note he’s given her.

“Meet me at the spot where we first met. xoxo Neal”

Even though the xoxo postscript is a little middle school, she can’t help the smile that fills her face. She heads eagerly for the carousel and finds Neal waiting for her. He grabs her around the waist and kisses her in greeting, and when they part Emma has to catch her breath.

“Where have you been all day?” she asks him.

The grin he gives her fills his face and lights up his brown eyes. “Working on a surprise.”

She smiles back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “A surprise? For who?”

He shrugs teasingly. “I was thinking maybe Claudia would like it - ow!” He rubs at where she punched him in the arm, though her indignation seems to only make his smile broader. “Just kidding, Ems, you know it’s for you. Come on!”

Neal pulls her across the carnival grounds almost at a run, and Emma is breathless again when he stops in front of an office door. She quirks a brow at him.

“What’s in there?”

He shuffles his feet back and forth, nervous for the first time. “Um, just close your eyes.”

Emma eyes him suspiciously.

“Please?”

She shrugs and complies. She hears the door swing open, and Neal tugs her hands gently to lead her inside. The door shuts behind her, and she feels Neal pressed up against her back. He leans forward and whispers in her ear.

“Keep your eyes closed until I say.”

“Okay,” she agrees, letting her breath out in a huff.

“I’m really sorry about how our first time went. I should have planned it - made it special. So . . . maybe this will make it up to you?”

He tells her to open her eyes, and when she does, she sees a small, modest office with wood paneling, filing cabinets, and a musty smell. However, there’s also a couch along one wall that Neal has scattered with rose petals and on every flat surface in the room, tea candles flicker.

“Well?” he asks her, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“I . . . I . . . “ Emma swallows around the sudden lump in her throat. “How did you even get in here?”

She worries that maybe she’s hurt his feelings, but Neal just shrugs. “I picked the lock. It was a simple one with no deadbolt, so . . . “

Emma wanders around the small room, taking in every candle, reaching out to touch some of the rose petals.

“They’re fake,” he tells her apologetically. “The convenience store didn’t have real ones. Oh, and I got you something else!”

Neal reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a key chain which he dangles in front of her. Emma reaches out to take it, smiling down at the round pendant.

“It’s a swan.” She throws her arms around him and gives him a brief kiss. “I love it!”

She wraps her arms tighter around him as he pulls her close. She buries her nose in his shoulder and revels in his embrace. Then, suddenly, a bright fluorescent light catches her eye. Just over Neal’s shoulder is another door, and through the square window in its center she sees something she remembers from her past.

“What’s that?” she whispers as she steps away from Neal and draws closer to the door.

“Oh, that’s the arcade,” Neal tells her, “this office must be for the manager.”

Emma turns the knob and is surprised to find it unlocked. She steps out into the dark arcade, drawing closer to the glass cube that pulses with a neon glow.

“I wonder why that one’s still plugged in,” Neal muses.

Emma presses her palm to the glass and draws closer. Voices from the past drift to the forefront of her memory. Now, decide which prize you want, and focus. Emma remembers the way the game had sparked, how Sarah hadn’t seemed fazed at all. The claw in this machine hangs immobile, and Emma gives a soft gasp as she sees the prize right below it - a stuffed white rabbit with a pink ribbon around its neck.

“Emma?” Neal asks hesitantly.

What if you did have magic, Emma?

I travel to you through an enchanted wardrobe, Emma. And you think magic sounds crazy?

“Emma?” Neal tries again.

“Do you believe in magic?” she whispers, her hand still pressed to the glass, her gaze still fixed on that stuffed rabbit.

Neal laughs. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but this life of ours ain’t no fairy tale.”

A tear slips from the corner of Emma’s eye and rolls down her cheek. “But there are things that can’t be explained. Aren’t there?”

Neal steps closer and grasps her loosely by the elbow. “Emma, what’s wrong? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Emma shakes her head, swiping at the wet spot on her cheek. “Nothing.”

Neal turns her to face him, his eyes searching hers carefully. “Is this still about the sex thing?”

Emma can’t help it, she blurts out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Cassidy, you didn’t waste all those candles.”

His pupils widen as he grins eagerly. “Well, I’m relieved to hear that. Although I stole the candles so . . . “

Emma shakes her head and throws her arms around his neck. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“You know,” Neal says softly, rubbing her arms, “everyone’s on edge because the carnival’s off season is almost over.”

Emma sighs and presses her forehead to his. “I know. Lily wants to have a meeting tomorrow to talk about it.”

“What if we . . . took off on our own?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You can’t be serious. Where would we even go?”

“Well, don’t tell Lily this,” he says, looking around nervously as if Lily might be hiding behind the pinball machines, “but I’ve had a few big scores that I’ve kept to myself.”

“Seriously? How much?”

“Enough to get us pretty far,” he tells her confidently, then he’s yanking her hand eagerly back inside the office. He stops in front of a map of the United States hanging next to a small desk. Grinning broadly, he sweeps his hand across the expanse of it. “Come on, Emma, dream big. Where do you want to go?”

She shakes her head. “You’re crazy.”

He wraps his arms around her waist. “Only about you.” Then he releases her, and turns her towards the map. “Go ahead, pick someplace, and it’s yours.”

“Mine? Or ours?”

“Ours.”

Emma smiles, her cheeks flushed, then she closes her eyes, extends her hand and walks blindly towards the map. When her finger collides with its surface, she opens her eyes.

“Tallahassee,” she reads aloud, then she spins to face Neal, “is there a beach?”

“It’s Florida.” He shrugs. “It’s all beach.”

Emma rests her hands on his shoulders and gives him a slow, tender kiss. “So we’re doing this?”

“Yeah. Tallahassee it is.”

****************************************

Emma really doesn’t like riding in the back of this van. Or more specifically, her stomach doesn’t like it. She moans and rests her head on Neal’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks her.

“You two aren’t naked back there are you?” Jamie asks in a loud, obnoxious voice.

“Shut up, you little shit!” Emma yells back.

Correction, Emma doesn’t like being in this van at all. This ugly, avocado van from the early 80s that smells like a sickening combination of pot and urine. Neal had said they were going to head off on their own once the crew left the carnival, yet here they are. They’d had a fight about it, but Neal had insisted that they needed a bit more cash. Lily had a big con planned, and once they pulled it off, getting to Tallahassee would be child’s play.

Emma’s stomach roils, and she scrambles over the three rows of bench seats to the front passenger seat. She almost pukes all over Jamie, which would have been great karma, come to think of it. She plops down next to Lily, who’s driving, and quickly rolls the manual window down. She sighs in relief once the cool air hits her face.

“Car sick?” Lily asks.

“Yeah,” Emma sighs as she presses her temple against the side of the window.

“Well, you can stay up here with me.”

“Thanks. Where are we going, again?”

Lily grins as she glances at Emma, then back to the road. “All the ski resorts up here are closing up for the summer. The people who own cabins up here are loaded. We can squat in style until fall.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “But Neal said we’d be flush with cash.”

Lily gives her that icy look that says she finds Emma incredibly naive. “Of course we will. Before we head out, we’ll clean the place out. We’re talking major electronics - TVs, gaming systems, DVD players.”

“Okay,” Emma says warily.

“Just you wait,” Lily assures, “it’s gonna be incredible.”

****************************************

On her third night in the vacation home in the mountains, Emma wakes up to a flashlight blinding her eyes and questions being shouted at her. As the cops escort her down the stairs and out the front door, she sees that the others have cleaned the place out already. Nothing but wires stick out of the wall in the family room where the tv, vcr, and gaming system had been connected. She’s barefoot and in a pair of pajamas that she’d found in the master bedroom drawer, but none of the cops seem to care as they put her in the squad car. She’s not handcuffed, though, maybe because she was too disoriented to resist.

Emma sits there in the back seat, cursing her stupidity. She should have seen this coming the moment Lily smirked at her that first night. There were so many signs that the girl was a complete narcissist, and Emma had missed them all. How could she ever think Lily was her friend?

Emma reaches into the pocket of her pajama pants and clutches the small white stick she’d slipped inside before going to bed. Why she’d put it there, she doesn’t even know. She shouldn’t be surprised that Neal bailed on her after the way he reacted when she’d told him. He’d literally recoiled from her, his face pale.

Well, they’d taken care of her, hadn’t they? The expensive silver from the dining room slipped into her bag was an especially nice touch. A clean break from the girl who was nothing but a burden.

After all, what crew of teen runaways wants a pregnant seventeen year old?

Killian: Age 17

Killian’s eyes blink open drowsily, and he doesn’t feel particularly ready to get out of bed. He shoves his pillow under his chest, groans, and then reaches out to pull Milah close. All he feels is empty sheets. He rolls over to look around the cabin, and there she is, clad in her shift, her dark curls a riotous mess down her back. She’s standing in front of the wardrobe, running her fingers over the intricate carvings that cover the doors.

“How did you get this?” she asks.

Killian hops up out of bed, wrapping the sheets around his waist. “It’s um, always been here, even back when this was a naval ship.”

“What do you even keep in this thing?”

“No, don’t!” he shouts, slamming his good hand against the door before she can open it. He isn’t wearing his hook, so the sheets he was grasping tumble to the floor.

Milah looks him up and down appreciatively and smirks. “Though I like the view better without the sheet, why are you so jumpy about a piece of furniture?”

“I um . . . I just . . .” Killian snatches up the sheets and holds them in front of himself while he turns and presses his back to the wardrobe. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. This wardrobe - it’s magic.”

Milah’s eyes widen. “Magic? How?”

“It opens a portal to another realm.”

“Really?” she replies, skeptically. “Prove it.”

Killian blinks rapidly, his brain scrambling for a reply, but all that comes out is one word. “No.”

“No?” Her hands are on her hips, and her glare could curdle milk. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

“Then why are you blushing?”

He feels his cheeks heat even more under her icy stare. What’s he hiding? Only that he checks the wardrobe every day? That despite the fact that he cares deeply for Milah, he still sometimes wonders where Emma is and if she’s okay? He feels so nervous under Milah’s intense stare that he stumbles sideways when she shoves him in the shoulder.

“Milah!” he shouts as she flings open the wardrobe. He lets out a relieved breath when all that’s inside is an empty rod for hanging clothes.

“Is this some kind of joke?” she demands when she whirls back to face him.

Killian collapses on the edge of the bed and reaches out a hand to her. “Come here, and I’ll tell you.”

She eyes him warily but sits anyway. He runs his hand nervously through his hair, unsure where to begin. He finally decides to just start at the beginning when he was ten. Once he starts talking, he can’t seem to stop, and he tells her everything: his crush on Emma, the white rabbit, even the kiss. When he finally finishes, he looks at Milah sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.”

Milah smiles softly and cups his face gently. “Why? Because you loved someone before you met me?”

Killian blinks rapidly. “Loved?”

She shrugs. “I mean, it was puppy love, maybe, but it was real. And pretty cute, actually.”

He tilts his head in surprise. “Really?”

She brushes a kiss to his cheek. “Really.” She looks back over at the wardrobe. “So you were nervous that I might end up face to face with her. With Emma?”

Killian rubs his face. “Aye, I suppose.”

Milah laughs. “I guess that could have been awkward, especially since you’re wearing nothing but a sheet right now.”

Milah’s eyes turn a darker shade of gray as she runs her hands over his chest and pushes him back down on his cot. He was nervous six months ago when their relationship first turned physical. Milah was obviously very experienced and was used to men, not boys. Yet she told him as he held her close in the afterglow that before him, all she had known were men who took from her, often violently. He was different.

Still, there was a part of Milah he felt that he could never quite reach.Her homelife had been difficult and became worse once her mother remarried. However, she had never told him exactly what life had been like with her stepfather. All she would say was that the man had planned to marry her off to a local farmer when she was fourteen, so she’d run away. The thing was, she’d taken Mason with her. Killian knew there had to be more to the story than that.

It felt as if Milah was holding back when they were making love, too. She was definitely teaching him things, and he certainly didn’t mind that. It was more that she seemed to get uncomfortable anytime Killian tried to initiate anything. She wanted to be in control, so he let her. As long as she felt safe, that was all that mattered.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he had much to offer her. A seventeen year old boy with a mutilated stump instead of a left hand leading a crew of kids. Milah took to being a pirate naturally, however, wielding a sword and fighting just as well as the rest of them. There was even a type of manic joy on her face when they overtook a crew, as if she were getting vengeance on every man who had ever touched her.

Emma had always been a mystery to him, but it was because her entire existence felt like a fantasy. Milah was a mystery to him in a different way. She confused him and fascinated him in equal measure. She was a deep well, jaded and wounded, that he wasn’t sure he could ever plumb even though he wanted to. Thoughts of Emma Swan, though they still plagued him at times, seemed to belong to an entirely different boy. A boy he wasn’t sure still existed.

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms@delirious-latenight-laughs

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #angst #childhood sweethearts #slow burn

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peterpan-ouat-imagines · 4 years

Text

More than Human: Part three

I cannot believe what my life has been these last days. Neverland used to be my favorite story I would listen to as a child and favorite movie. Now it’s my worst nightmare. Never in a million years would I think that this island would be so dreary with boys being mean to me let alone Peter Pan treating me that way. Can’t life just go back to how it once was?

“Y/n, are you listening to me?” Pan snaps as we are alone in his cave as he explains the plan.

“Oh... um...” I stutter as I come back to reality.

“Listen this time,” he snaps at me. He starts repeating the plan and I listen. After we go over it several times I start to head out and he stops me, “Oh you still aren’t walking free. Me and the other two are still the only ones who know about you and want to keep it that way,”

I groan, “If you were cooler about me having freedom I wouldn’t think you were an ass holl to me,”

He escorts me to the box and I go inside and huff. He turns around about to leave me be, “Wait can you at least keep me company? It is boring up here all alone!” I plead but try not to sound desperate.

“No, and frankly I have other business I have to take care of,” he tells me and continues to walk.

“Please! I am doing something incredibly dangerous for you, can you at least get Baelfire for me or something!” I complain.

“I’ll stay for 10 minutes,” he tells me, “Now what do you want to talk about?”

I get a warm happy feeling now that I will not be alone but keep it inside, “I don’t know, tell me about yourself, what was your life like before Neverland?” I ask genuinely curious.

“I was weak, I let someone hold me back. I was finally smart enough to let him go and I am where I should be which is here, Neverland,” he explains quite blunt.

“Do you feel like you are where you are meant to be now?” I ask getting intrigued.

“Of course, I love Neverland,” he says with certainty.

“I feel like there is more out there for someone than an island though. I understand you do not have much but don’t you want a partner in life? Or something more meaningful than something as simple as an island?” I ask.

“Felix is my partner, and I do not need anymore meaning to my life than what is in it now,”

“Pan you know what kind of partner I meant,” he still looks truly confused, “Love you idiot, don’t you want a girlfriend or something of the sort?” I ask.

“Love makes you weak, it holds you back. I loved someone who kept me from being my best self. They kept me from being where I am today,” he tells me.

“So love kept you from being a complete jerk? We have different thoughts on love then. I comment enjoying picking at you.

“Love kept me from enjoying life,” he starts getting defensive.

“You know I find it interesting. You said you could only stay for 10 minutes and it’s now 5 over and you seem to want to continue,” I smirk.

“What are you implying?” He asks.

“15 minutes and 10 seconds, 11 seconds,” I smirk not breaking eye contact.

I can see in his eyes how he wants to say something else but out of stubbornness he walks away.

After an hour, I hear the crinkling of leaves and I lean forward to see who it is, “Y/n!” He exclaims overjoyed, “I figured Pan would do this to you, let me help you down,” Baelfire tells me.

“Baelfire! It is about time you came!” I watch him walk over to the rope as he begins lowering me and I look down in my lap, “Bae stop,”

“What? Why?” he asks confused.

I take a breath and look up again, “Peter Pan put me up here not to hold me prisoner, I am in this because I said I wanted to help him retrieve a scroll from pirates to go home and he needs to keep me secret,”

He starts to get concerned “Y/n, no! If you do that people could see what you are. A pirate ship? If they make you mad you could-”

“I know what could happen Bae! For all we know maybe I just will not be able to do that anymore, maybe I am stuck as a human for good and I just have to accept it,” I sigh.

“Y/n, you aren’t stuck like this, I will help you do what I can to make sure that you-“

“Baelfire stop helping! I needed your help this morning when I was lost but you weren’t there for me! Now Pan is ironically the one who gets to play hero and let me off the island!” I yell.

“Pan isn’t your friend, he’s your-”

“He’s my best option, now can you please go away?” I huff tensing up feeling my body start to change for a moment.

Baelfire pulls the rope to raise me up and walks off without another word. I sink down in the crate hating that I pushed him away but live with it because that's just what happens when you are of my kind.

My eyes begin getting heavy and they flutter close. Later I feel someone shake me and see two beautiful green eyes staring at me.

Y/n, stop it. Get his perfect looks out of your mind. I shake myself and get out.

He leads me towards the beach, “You know I overheard your conversation with Baelfire,” I panic when he tells me that.

“Um you did? What did you hear?” I ask and stutter nervously.

“I heard that you aren’t truly human... so tell me, who and what are you,”

My heartbeat quickens and chest gets tight as he confronts me, “I don’t want to tell you,” I tell him.

“Y/n, you are going to tell me,” he demands.

“No! Drop it!” I yell and storm on the beach and the stupid son of a bitch automatically appears in front of me.

The obnoxious nosiness pisses me off and the playful argument earlier no longer felt good.

“Y/n, Don’t play games. That’s my thing,” he tells me.

“You don’t have your own “thing” of anything! Mind games can be an area of anyones expertiyiand you don’t own this island or me!” I yell angry.

“Than please explain why you are still here and not home in your “mansion”?” He smirks.

“Fuck this,” i storm off into the forest.

“Baelfire was right about you, I thought I could- you know what, never mind,” I tell him not even bothering to bring up my thoughts, “I can find my own way without your help,” I huff.

Y/n, do I have to put you in your cage?” he says appearing in front of me so annoying.

“You are not going to hold me like a animal anymore and stop showing up, blocking my path, with no warning!” I shove him aside.

I want to go find Baelfire but after our last conversation he probably does not want to see me.

I go back to the beach on a different half of the island and sit on the rocks with my feet in the sand. I lookout and see this weird island a distance away and knowing the movie I assume it is Skull Rock. I see a canoe and start paddling towards it making big strokes trying to get there fast.

I get out and walk around it and see this huge gorgeous hourglass. I see how it is filled halfway with golden grains of sand on the bottom side and am tempted to flip it. I slowly start to turn it when an arm yanks me away and carefully tilts it back to the original position so it stays how it was.

I turn around and a tall boy with messy blond hair and a large scar on his cheek and dark clothes looks angry, “What do you think you are doing?”

“I think I am tilting the hourglass because I am bored with it slowly pouring sand on this side and want to watch it go on the other. Who even are you?” I ask.

“You know who I am. And do not think I am telling Pan that a girl is on this island.” he warns and I roll my eyes.

“Pan knows of me, he is very familiar actually. He sucks and is mean and I let it slide for a while but not anymore,” I tell him, “And also I do not know who you are and would like to be alone,”

“Felix,”

“Oh your Pan’s puppy dog I see following him around and do whatever he says,” I comment.

He takes a step closer to me, “I am not his puppy dog, he is my leader and I respect and does as he asks, now step away from the hour glass,”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms and look serious at him as I don’t move.

“You cannot touch it you could be risking many lives, “No one knows what would happen if you did something like that” he states.

I huff, “When you put it like that then okay I will step away,” I walk a few feet away.

“Now go, or do I have to get rid of you myself?” He cracks his knuckles and corners me as my body shakes.

“Ok fine I’ll leave. I want to leave and I don’t even want to be on this stupid island to begin with!” I shout, “now if you’d help me go because Pan doesn’t like there being a girl here and I doubt anyone else would be happy!” I huff.

He thinks for a moment, “Okay, fine, since I’m second in command I can help you. No one wants someone like you here,” I roll my eyes and deal with the insult, “Come on,”

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imagitory · 5 years

Text

Just thought I’d share a little of my progress in the game Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery! Right now I’ve just started year 5, and yeah, while the game definitely isn’t perfect, I’m having fun! If you want to read more about my character, I put in a cut! (Sorry about my character holding hands with your character Alana’s bae, @weasleyismyking540 -- if I could’ve picked Chiara as Carewyn’s other half instead, I would have!)

My character, Carewyn “Cursebreaker” Cromwell, although she resembles me quite a bit visually, isn’t exactly like me, but one thing that she and I do share is a love of fashion! She changes outfits all the time depending on what she’s doing, from wearing all black when she was tailing Rakepick to wearing the Weasley sweater she got from Bill when she was trying to become Prefect. The outfit she’s wearing in her screenshots and in the biggest sketch I did is her usual “adventure” outfit, though she will break out the black version when she needs to be stealthy, like when she sneaked into the Forbidden Forest in fourth year. She also managed to become a Prefect, despite her disregard for the rules! In my head, I imagine it’s largely due to her maternal streak, rather than any astounding respect for rules and regulations: even if she’s a Slytherin, she likes protecting and looking after other people, especially social outcasts, since she herself has had to deal with a decent amount of people misjudging her.

Backstory -- Carewyn is the second child and only daughter of the half-blood Cromwell family. Her father, Evan Bach, was a Muggle who left his family when his son Jacob received his Hogwarts letter and his wife, Lane, revealed her magical ancestry to him. After that, both Jacob and Carewyn took on their mother’s maiden name, Cromwell. Carewyn was a late-in-life surprise for her parents, being born only two years before Jacob started at Hogwarts. Jacob disappeared when Carewyn was eight years old, and ever since, Carewyn has been starved for news about her lost brother. Part of her worries that Jacob -- a Ravenclaw who was kind of obsessed with learning and achieving every single thing he could -- has gotten roped in with some bad people or, worse, that he might not even want to be found, so as to not shame her or their mother or to keep them from harm. Whatever his reason is, though, Carewyn knows she has to find out what happened to Jacob and remove the shadow of the Cursed Vaults looming over her if she has any hope of living her life the way she wants. Carewyn is close with her mother, Lane, but has greatly downplayed her involvement with the Cursed Vaults so as not to worry her.

Carewyn’s biggest flaw is her pride. Although she’s made a lot of friends at Hogwarts, she has difficulty showing vulnerability and tries to be perfect in absolutely everything she does. If she doesn’t think she can do something, Carewyn tends to ignore it and/or pretend it doesn’t matter. To complicate matters, when she started at Hogwarts, she actually dreamed of doing all of the normal things Hogwarts students do, like joining clubs, the Quidditch team, and the Frog Choir, but because of her brother Jacob and the Cursed Vaults, she’s had to basically put all of her more selfish ambitions on the back burner. After writing to her mother for advice, Carewyn selflessly gave up her spot in the Frog Choir -- something she really, really wanted -- to Merula with the thought that since she earned the spot once, she could always get it back the following year when there would be room for both her and Merula, but even that ended up having to be put off because of her quest to find the Cursed Vaults. Carewyn enjoys watching and playing Quidditch, but is reluctant to commit to the Slytherin team because she’s afraid of letting them down. Carewyn is actually kind of a stick in the mud too! Unlike her brother Jacob, Carewyn is a meticulous organizer and planner who believes everything has its place, and despite liking Tonks and Tulip quite a bit personality-wise, she can’t stand the idea of most pranks, thinking they end up really mean-spirited and kind of stupid rather than anything funny. (This of course only makes her a fantastic target for pranks among her friends, who think she needs to lighten up!) Appropriate to a Slytherin, though, Carewyn can also be a little manipulative -- despite having a very strong moral compass, she isn’t above putting on an innocent face, playing mind games, or out right lying if it’ll help her reach her goals. She likes to look her best around everyone, both in her fashion sense and in how she behaves, and she hates it when her more negative impulses or insecurities peek through. Her biggest insecurity is her lack of control about her own life. Because she feels like she’s the one with the most drive to find the Cursed Vaults and break their enchantments, Carewyn has subconsciously assumed all responsibility for the fall-out and blames herself if anyone else is put in danger because of her search for her brother or because of the Vaults. She wants to control absolutely everything in her life, but the most she can control nearly all of the time is her attitude, her workspace, and how she presents herself, so she does so. Her greatest fear would be a threat she’d have no hope of controlling or overcoming -- namely, Voldemort.

Relationship-wise, Carewyn’s closest friends are Chiara, Bill, Talbott, Charlie, and Barnaby. She also really respects the eccentric Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Orion, and fancies Ravenclaw’s own “Style Wizard,” Andre Egwu, who shares her love of Quidditch and fashion. The thing Carewyn likes best about Andre is how passionate he is about his interests and therefore how much fun their conversations are. Fortunately Carewyn’s interest is reciprocated -- Andre and Carewyn attended the Celestial Ball together and have now been on two dates, one at Madame Puddifoot’s and one in one of the Hogwarts Greenhouses after a Valentine’s party hosted by Gilderoy Lockhart that neither of them remember very well. (META NOTE: As mentioned, I probably would’ve paired Carewyn with Chiara if ANY of the dating events would’ve let me, but I really like Andre too. And after choosing him for the Celestial Ball, it only felt right for Carewyn to stick with him, as I see her as a very monogamous sort, relationship-wise.)

Carewyn latched onto Chiara very quickly because of her “outcasted” status as a werewolf, and since then, she’s sort of become Chiara’s own personal Sirius Black, using her hawk Animagus form to keep Chiara company when she transforms. The Weasley family (Bill especially) sort of filled the hole that Jacob left in Carewyn’s life, but because Carewyn loves magical creatures, she really enjoys talking about dragons with Charlie and everything else with Barnaby. (Barnaby really enjoys whenever Carewyn sings to the creatures she’s working with to try to calm them down.) Carewyn was also pleasantly surprised to find out that Talbott enjoys poetry, given that she loves the arts (music especially), so she encourages him wholeheartedly in his writing, even if her enthusiasm kind of weirds Talbott out a bit. (He likes it, though.) Carewyn clashes most with Tulip (largely because of Carewyn’s aforementioned dislike of mischief), Ismelda (her sadistic streak turns Carewyn off big time), Skye (Carewyn was really upset when Skye started telling rumors about Erika Rath without any proof!), and Professor Rakepick (who Carewyn at present doesn’t trust at all, but will be play nicely with if it’ll help her find out what happened to her brother). (META NOTE: I also adore that Carewyn and Rakepick have some physical similarities, even though that wasn’t on purpose -- it just makes for great visual symbolism, considering that Rakepick is clearly trying to groom Carewyn as one of her apprentices!) Carewyn is also pretty protective of Ben and now Penny, since her younger sister Bea has gotten trapped in a portrait thanks to the Vaults’ most recent curse.

Although the so-called “Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts,” Merula Snyde, would love it if she were Carewyn’s main rival at school, Carewyn’s kind of gotten tired of the old song and dance Merula’s done with her these last five years and now tends to just ignore her terrible behavior. When Merula is willing to play nice, Carewyn’s glad for her help, but she honestly just isn’t interested in indulging Merula when she’s being awful anymore (which is often). And as much as Carewyn may think of Merula as immature and irritating, she knows that Merula had it rough growing up and that the two of them have a few things in common, like their love of music, and her mother (who was a Ravenclaw like her brother) would counsel her to choose the more peaceful route over active hostility. Carewyn wouldn’t call Merula a friend exactly, but she’s more of an ally of an enemy purely out of necessity, and for that, Carewyn shows Merula the base level of compassion and respect, but nothing more.

Carewyn’s favorite professors are Flitwick -- who taught her about Wizard Dueling and teaches her favorite class, Charms -- and McGonagall -- the one teacher who she respects above all others and would never have the heart to lie to. Being a Slytherin, Carewyn also trusts Snape’s judgement, even if she gets little of the standard favoritism from him: she was all too eager to try to help him spy on Rakepick. She also adores Care of Magical Creatures and probably would enjoy History of Magic more if Professor Binns didn’t teach the class, since her mother Lane works as a magical historian.

Carewyn’s love of magical creatures has prompted her to adopt several pets and magical creatures on the Hogwarts grounds. Her most constant companion is her orange tabby cat Mimi (named for the halfhearted “meows” she gives), but Tulip also gave Carewyn a toad she named Sir Robin the Brave, or “Robin” for short (kudos to anyone who gets the reference!!). At the magical creature preserve, Carewyn has trained a Niffler named Wicket, a Fairy named Belle, a Welsh Green Dragon named Esmeralda, a Porlock named Tumnus, and an Abraxan Winged Horse named Arjuna. Carewyn’s connection with her Abraxan is also beautifully reflected in her Patronus, which is also a Winged Horse.

I’m looking forward to seeing where my curse-breaking baby goes from here! For those of you who have advanced further in the game than me, I can’t wait to catch up with you!

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years

Text

Fic: Forward Post

Summary: Belle French receives a misdirected package for one Baeden Gold, and she sets about trying to reunite the parcel with its rightful recipient. She never expected to find love along the way.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Mail delivered to the wrong address.

Rated: G

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Forward Post

The parcel had come to the wrong place. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. The parcel had come to the correct place, but it had come to the wrong person.

Belle was still staring at the box a good five minutes after she had come home from work to find it sitting outside her apartment.

She couldn’t deny that the address was definitely hers, so the box had definitely come to the right place.

She was not, however, the Baeden Gold to whom it had been addressed.

Now, normally if Belle received post that had come to her address but not her name, she would do one of two things. She would shred it without opening it, or she would scribble ‘not known at this address, return to sender’ all over it and post it again.

The parcel, however, was a rather sizeable parcel, and as she picked it up to bring it into the apartment, she found that it was really quite heavy. Now, option A was obviously out of the question, and given its size and weight, Belle really didn’t fancy lugging it down to the post office.

She was going to have to do something with it. Baeden Gold would probably be expecting his parcel, especially since Christmas was coming and the parcel was likely to be related to the holiday. She certainly couldn’t just keep the parcel and hope that the Baeden Gold in question would come by and collect it. Given its size and weight and the postage markings on it, whoever had sent the parcel had spent quite a lot on getting it sent, and Belle really wanted it to get to the correct recipient. It had been sent with love and care: it was well-wrapped, and the address was printed neatly by hand. As she set it down on the kitchen table, she saw the return address. There was no name. Well, there wasn’t a name that could help her. The sender had identified themselves as ‘Papa’.

Oh. Oh dear.

Belle could put together a very clear picture of what was going on. A father estranged from his child had sent gifts for Christmas, and they had come to the child’s address too late, after someone else had already re-rented the apartment.

Belle’s brow furrowed. She’d been living here for almost six months; surely that was enough time for a new address to have been communicated to Baeden’s father. Unless they didn’t want their new address to be known by said father for whatever reason.

Belle sat down at the kitchen table, wishing that she knew what to do. Returning to sender would be the best option, but at the same time, she couldn’t get the vision of this unknown man getting his child’s Christmas presents back, and the vision of the child not receiving any Christmas presents from their father, out of her head.

She had to get these presents to this child. Returning to sender would be useless, because Papa Gold - no, that sounded horribly wrong, she needed another way to identify him. Mr Gold, that would do. Because Mr Gold would not have sent the parcel to the wrong address if he had known the correct one.

Belle didn’t know the correct address any better than Mr Gold did, but at least she had a better chance of finding out.

She grabbed her phone and dialled the letting agency. Naturally, it was out of their office hours, but she left a message.

“Hi, this is Belle French from apartment sixteen, I was wondering if you had a forwarding address for the previous tenants? I’ve received a parcel for them. Thanks.”

She hung up and leaned back in the chair; there was nothing more that she could do until morning now. Well, except wonder what the box contained. She’d never open it, but having come into unexpected custody of it, she couldn’t help but imagine. How old was Baeden? What kind of toys did he like? She picked up the box again and shook it very gently, but the weight distribution didn’t change. Whatever it was, it was packed in tightly.

It felt like books. Working in the library, Belle was used to handling boxes of books, and she knew how much they weighed for how little room they took up. This could very well be a box of books.

What books were they? Fantasy? Sci-fi? Picture books? More likely to be picture books; if Baeden was still young enough for his father to be Papa to him, then he probably wasn’t reading Lord of the Rings yet.

The box stayed on her kitchen table overnight, but Belle’s dreams were full of unknown children separated from their fathers and their Christmas presents.

When she checked her emails next morning, there was a message from the letting agency waiting for her with the forwarding address.

Unfortunately, the name that went with the forwarding address was not Baeden Gold.

Well, of course it wasn’t going to be Baeden Gold. If his papa was still sending him Christmas presents then he was hardly old enough to have the lease in his own name.

The name was Milah Cassidy.

Belle looked at it hard for a moment. If Baeden’s father was no longer part of the family unit, then it made sense that his mother might have gone back to her maiden name. Or maybe they had never been married in the first place, and she had never been Milah Gold.

Or maybe Milah Cassidy was entirely unrelated and was just another person who had lived in the apartment, like Belle.

She glared at the box. It was just an ordinary box wrapped in brown paper and sealed with parcel tape; it should not have been causing so many problems. Still, she was determined to get to the bottom of it all, and she was even more determined that Baeden Gold was going to get his books from his papa.

She thought for a moment, and then the solution struck her. There was still a good couple of weeks before Christmas, after all, and she had the return address.

Belle grabbed a sheet of paper and pen and sat down at the table, the box seeming to watch her as she wrote.

Dear Mr Gold (I assume that’s your name from the box)

My name is Belle French and I’ve lived in Apartment Sixteen, Riverside Mansions for the past six months. I’m currently in possession of a parcel that you sent here addressed to a Baeden Gold, who again, from the box, I’m assuming is your son.

I take it from the fact that you sent the box here that you don’t have Baeden’s current address.

I have a forwarding address for the tenant who lived here before me. Please forgive me for not passing this to you for security reasons. I am happy to forward the parcel on your behalf, however, to avoid the same thing happening to someone else as has happened to me, could you please confirm that Baeden is resident with a Ms Milah Cassidy.

Many thanks, Belle French.

She added her phone number - it would be a bit difficult to get the parcel delivered in time if she had to rely on snail mail for all future correspondence - and sealed the envelope.

All she could do now was wait and see.

The call came three days later, out of the blue, on her lunch break. When she saw that it was an unknown number, Belle pounced on it and answer after two and a half rings.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Belle French?”

“Speaking.”

“Hello, this is Raymond Gold. I, erm, I got your letter about Bae’s parcel.”

“Hello, Mr Gold.”

For some reason her heart was beating very hard in her chest, and Belle could not for the life of her work out why. Maybe it was his voice, soft and Scottish and nervous, as if he didn’t like making phone calls.

“Milah is Bae’s mother, Cassidy’s her maiden name. I… Do you really have the parcel? I mean, obviously you do, or you wouldn’t have my address… I can’t believe she didn’t tell me she’d moved. No, actually, I can, it’s the kind of thing she’d do…” He tailed off, and Belle could almost feel his embarrassment down the phone. “I’m not weird or dangerous, I swear, we just had a very acrimonious divorce. I won’t ask for the new address or anything, but could you please send it on? I need Bae to know that I’m still around, that I still love him, no matter what his mother might have said.”

The poor man, it sounded like he was at the very end of his rope. Whilst Belle couldn’t vouch for him not being weird or dangerous, she could certainly help to make sure that his son didn’t go without his parcel.

“Of course. I’ll let you know when it’s gone.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. And thank you for taking the time to do this, rather than just returning it to sender.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr Gold. Thanks for calling.”

She could sense his desperation, and she dreaded to think what he might have done had the parcel arrived on his own doorstep again.

“Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes, and Belle went to get the parcel on the next - and hopefully final - leg of its journey.

She had expected that to be the end of it. She sent a text to Mr Gold’s number to tell him that the parcel had been sent, and she thought that would be it.

But it wasn’t.

Gold replied thanking her again, and then, without even realising it, Belle was having a complete text-based conversation with a man she’d never met, had only spoken to once, and had only found out existed in passing thanks to a misdirected parcel.

She told him what she did, and why she loved being a librarian so much, and she asked if the parcel had contained books because it felt like it did.

He told her that yes, it had books in, because Bae was a voracious and precocious reader for his five years, and that reading bedtime stories was the thing he missed most. He told her about Bae, about himself, about how and why his relationship had ended. Belle told him about her parents, her own heartbreaks, her own loneliness.

Even though he was a stranger, Belle felt that she really knew him, that he was a kindred spirit. They were both lonely, and whilst Gold was painfully aware of his isolation, Belle’s own state only weighed heavy upon her in the moments like this, when she felt that the only person who understood her was hundreds of miles away in a remote corner of Maine.

She had not expected to find a friend as a result of that parcel, but she had definitely found one.

She was surprised when, a week after his first call, Gold called her again. They had been exchanging messages several times a day, but they had not spoken to each other since the initial call.

He was so changed. His voice was still soft and still Scottish and still shy, but it was energised now; there was less desperation in it.

“Bae got his parcel!” he exclaimed happily. “He called me! Everything’s going to be all right!”

Belle felt a huge swell of happiness burst through her veins at the news.

“I’m so glad, Rum, that’s great news.”

All the same, she felt a little sad that they would probably no longer be exchanging messages after this call, and she was so very glad when, half an hour after hanging up, her phone pinged, and their communication continued.

They kept going back and forth throughout the Christmas period. The messaging became almost like a ritual, and Belle found herself counting Rum Gold amongst her closest friends, despite the fact she had no idea what he looked like.

She found out what he looked like four months after their first interaction. The first tentative signs of spring were just about showing, and the chill in the air was no longer as biting cold as it had been all over winter. It was a day to be positive, and there was a spring in Belle’s step as she answered her doorbell.

It became rather a perplexed step when she found a middle-aged man with short greying hair outside, a small boy hanging onto his hand.

“Erm, hi.” The man gave an awkward wave, and Belle recognised his voice immediately. “I should have warned you before, and it’s horribly bad manners just turning up like this, but since I knew your address, and I was in the area anyway… I’m Rum Gold, and this is Bae, and we just wanted to come and thank you in person.”

“Thanks for sending my parcel!” Bae piped up.

“I… You’re very welcome. Would you like to come in for some tea, or hot cocoa?”

“Yes!” Bae said.

“No, we can’t I’m afraid,” Rum said. “We’ve got to get to a meeting. But… maybe we could meet tomorrow? We’ll still be in town.” He paused. “I’m getting full custody of Bae; he’s coming home to Storybrooke with me. We’re signing the final paperwork today.”

“It’s going to be great!” Bae certainly seemed very happy at the prospect of being with his dad again, and Belle was so relieved that everything had turned out for the best.

“Tomorrow would be perfect.” Belle smiled. “I’m so happy that everything worked out for you.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Rum had gone rather pink around the ears. “If it hadn’t been for talking with you so much, I would never have got the courage to start the proceedings. So, the cocoa is definitely on me tomorrow.” He paused. “I hope that we can continue talking, even after this is over?”

Belle nodded. “We definitely can. It’s been great to meet you in person at last. And… I really hope that tomorrow won’t be the last time?”

Rum smiled. “It certainly doesn’t have to be. You know where I live, after all.”

“And you definitely know where I live.”

They both laughed. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, with the prospect of it becoming so much more. And it had all started with one innocuous parcel.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #little!Bae #relationship beginnings #meet-cute #Fic: Forward Post

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ineffablecolors · 5 years

Note

Do you take fic requests? I’ve requested this from a few different accounts and never saw it done: Killian runs out of the eyeliner he brought with him from the EF and he has to ask Emma where to get more

Nonnie, I’m gonna pretend I’m not offended that you didn’t come to me first :P (also I did way too much research into what eyeliner was like in the past for this)

. .

He tips the little golden box to the side and frowns.He can swear he is running out of kohl faster than when he was at sea. Which is nonsensical because now he does his eyes mostly out of habit and perhaps a touch of vanity - Killian is intimately acquainted with his flaws but he is equally skilled at accenuating his assets - not because he is actually exposed to the sun’s glare and staring at the horizon for hours on end.

And yet, as he dips the carved stylus inside, he has to reach much deeper than expected. True, his kohl box is not enchanted the way his flask is but he knows it was completely full upon their return from Neverland, when he took stock of all his provisions.

It is a mystery he puts out of his mind when he sees how high in the sky the sun is already and hurries to apply the powder without further distractions.

It is not that he has a set arangement to get to. Not precisely. It’s just that somehow - by stroke of habit or luck or design he dare not guess - for the last month, Emma has been taking her lunch on a bench by the marina every Wednesday and Friday.

The weekend is mostly reserved for her parents and Henry, he knows. Mondays she is much too busy and averse to company to eat anywhere but at her desk. Tuesdays and Thursdays are given to Granny’s. He tries not to think about the Tuesdays. She has a standing lunch date with her lad which Baelfire has taken to “crashing”, to borrow Emma’s own phrase, ever since he learnt about it.

But it’s no matter. It’s Friday and he sees the flash of red and gold long before he has reached her spot. He slows down and inserts a heavy dose of aimlessness into his step. If the way her mouth and cheek twitch restlessly is any indication, he is not doing a terribly good job of selling his nonchalance.

“Swan,” he nods to her and purposefully turns to face the water. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Must be quite the shock.”

He purses his lips and circles around the bait. After all, she sounds more amused than exasperated. Surely, if she didn’t want to be found, she would have at least changed her choice of seat by now.

“You are ruining my view.”

This time he bites.

“Come now, love. We both know I could never do anything but vastly enchance the view.”

She hums around another bite of her sandwich and it’s provoking but it is also distinctively not disagreement. He takes a seat beside her.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. They usually do. Unless she has something to “vent about” - really, Emma grumbles about the way he speaks but, in truth, she is enriching his vocabulary in fascinating ways - she and the prince having a busy week of petty crimes and dwarf-sized disputes, Bae-- Neal trying to rope her into another “family bonding activity”, Regina complaying about Neal’s bonding activities and monopolization of Henry’s time or her mother trying for some bonding of her own and ending up with her foot in her mouth again.

When he actually thinks about it, they are rarely silent for longer than the first few minutes. But today Emma seems relaxed, almost content. He tries not to associate it with the way she had stretched and groaned and smiled and rolled out of his bed mere hours ago. He just takes in the curve of her lips and her cheek and--

“Bloody hell!”

She turns to him, eyes wide at his sudden exclamation.

“What?”

He swipes his thumb over her cheek - less tenderly than he normaly would have, not even giving her time to lean into the caress - though he doesn’t fail to note that she seemed ready to do just that. His finger comes away with some of the miniscule black specks on her cheek.

“You’re the one who has been robbing me blind.”

She frowns, looks down and rolls her eyes.

“You’re so overdramatic. And it’s that ridiculous stick you use that will blind you one day.”

“I do have some hundreds years of practice, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Whatever.”

She rolls her eyes again but it doesn’t do anything to hide the slight blush that has risen in her cheeks.

“And why, pray tell, have you taken to using it, if it’s so inconvenient?”

She takes an overlarge bite of her sandwich and glares at him as she chews. Killian can’t remember the last time he was this amused by another person’s antics. He waits patiently and when she finally swallows her food, Emma’s eyes drops to the small bit of bench left between them, her nail digging into the soft wood.

“It’s better, alright? It’s inconvenient but it’s better and lasts longer and... well, I was gonna say I’ll get you some more but I have no clue where to find that shit.”

He laughs, his eyes alight and on her and he wants to kiss her so badly but this has only been happening for a few weeks so he restrains himself to brushing her hair over her shoulder and rubbing away the rest of the powder that has fallen on her cheek. This time he lingers and she definitely leans into it.

“I’d be willing to barter with you, Swan.”

“What like - I owe you a kiss for every time I use your guyliner?”

The easy way she says it makes him think she might not have minded that much if he’d kissed her. It also gives him the confidence to casually refuse her.

“No, that won’t do. You have to give me something that’s only for my benefit, love.”

Her eyes flash - some indignation and a lot of fire and definitely a touch of interest.

“I have seen the ones you have in your world, you know?”

“What?”

“Your sticks of kohl that you just upcap and use. The way you don’t ink your pens either.”

“Oh. Yeah, eyeliner pencils.”

“Ingenius name.”

She gives him an unimpressed look but her lips are curled up and there is no space between then on the bench anymore and then--

“I could take you shopping tomorrow.”

“I thought you have an engagement with your mother.”

“Yeah, well. She is one of those psychos who prefers shopping in the mornings,” she shrugs as if it’s not a big deal and it doesn’t fool him in the least. “So I’m sure I can convince her to pawn me off after lunch and go spend the afternoon with my dad doing things I’m not going to think about.”

“You can have an afternoon like that yourself, love.”

He waggles his eyebrows aand leans closer, his nose almost brushing hers.

“Hook?”

“Aye?”

Her lips are too close and he is much too distracted.

“It’s really not in your best interest to associate that with my parents, if you want it to keep happening.”

Before he can formulate a reply, her lips press against his - firm and warm and much too quick - and in the next second she jumps to her feet and starts walking backwards, her face alight with mischief.

“2 pm. Don’t put anything on before that.”

“Nothing at all?” he calls after her and watches her roll her black-rimmed eyes.

#cs ff #i don't know what this is #but it is set in that favourite period of mine 3B-but-we-stayed-in-Storybrooke-and-got-to-have-character-progress #captain swan #cs prompts #eyeliner fic

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rumbelleshowdown · 5 years

Text

Honeysweet Sounds

Author: Cobalt Prompt: music, taking sides Group: B

Night had fallen and the ship drifted on an almost eerily quiet sea when the song of the siren sounded over the dark water. Rumplestiltskin had known it was coming, but the music still hit him like a fist to the gut, or the loss of a loved one, curling around him and flowing through his veins like heady wine. Halfway through coiling a length of rope, he stopped, eyes drawn to stare out to sea.

Few sailors were on deck during the night, and none of them reacted, of course. They'd known that they were about to sail into siren waters, and everyone on board had taken the necessary precautions. Everyone except for Rumplestiltskin, who now got up, swaying slightly in time with the music's ebb and flow.

He couldn't understand the words—the small pieces of wax in his ears made sure of that, but even so, thinking was hard, nearly impossible. Rumplestiltskin didn't even bother to make sure nobody saw him as he staggered over to the single lifeboat and untied it with a few practised movements. He had made his preparations over the last day, always making sure not to be noticed by his shipmates. He'd only get one chance at this.

The boat splashed when it hit the water, but nobody reacted, not even when Rumplestiltskin followed it over the side. Maybe someone had seen and decided not to interfere. Let the siren claim its tribute and spare the ship. Rumplestiltskin wondered if they were right.

The song grew louder as Rumplestiltskin rowed, and it became harder by the moment not to hear its words that whispered at the edge of his perception, promising knowledge and terrible truth. He reached into his tunic and plugged more wax into his ears; he had a purpose tonight and he could not afford to be distracted.

The siren sat perched on the edge of a jagged rock that only just stood out above the sea. Dark brown hair cascaded past her shoulders, framing a pleasant, almost sweet face. It was hard to remember that this was a creature that lured men and women from their ships and drowned them in the depths. That he was looking at a monster.

It became easier, however, as Rumplestiltskin rowed closer. Behind the siren, he saw a meadow stretch out under the water, impossibly blooming with all the flowers found on dry land, and dotted with pile upon pile of sun-bleached bones. The only thing that remained of the luckless sailors that had followed the sound of the siren's song.

The boat bumped against the rock and Rumplestiltskin turned around on the rowing bank to look fully at the siren. From nearby, she was even more beautiful, although unquestionably inhuman, with her body more akin to that of a bird than that of a woman. Up close, her song once again pierced through his protections, and for a moment, Rumplestiltskin found himself staring at her, open-mouthed, one hand on the side of the lifeboat while the other hung limp at his side.

Without pausing in her song, the siren stepped down from her perch, changing shape as she did so. Feathers melted into flesh and skin and the hand that reached for his face would have been entirely human if it had not been for the talons.

Just before the siren's skin touched his, Rumplestiltskin pulled away and threw the fishing net over her. Immediately, the creature let out a scream, a sharp, piercing sound that tore at Rumplestiltskin's insides, even though he could barely hear it. The siren struggled, flickered between shapes in an attempt to throw off the net, but only succeeded in thoroughly entangling herself while Rumplestiltskin held on for dear life. After what seemed like hours and could not have been more than minutes, her struggles slowed until she hung limp in the net. Rumplestiltskin still didn't loosen his grip, but he did allow himself a deep breath.

"I offer a bargain, siren," he said. "Your freedom in exchange for one answer and free passage for myself. Do you agree?"

Her mouth moved, but Rumplestiltskin was not about to remove his only protection in order to hear her answer, so he repeated, "Do you agree?"

She glared at him, and for the first time, Rumplestiltskin noticed the striking blue of her eyes. Finally, she nodded.

"Do I have your word?" He had no idea if a monster like this would feel obligated by a promise like this, but it seemed better than to just let her go and hope for the best.

Again, the siren nodded, and Rumplestiltskin began to untangle the siren from his net. She held still throughout, never taking her eyes off him until she was free. Then she gestured to her own ears, her fingers still human enough for the gesture, though her legs remained those of birds.

With dread bubbling in the pit of his stomach, Rumplestiltskin took out the wax from both of his ears. The sea remained eerily silent in the unnatural calm, except for the quiet lapping of the waves against the siren's perch.

"Speak, then," the siren said. "What is your question?" Even her spoken words carried a melody of their own, lilting and fascinating in a way that human speech never could be.

"First tell me if hearing your answer will make me drown myself," Rumplestiltskin said, surprised at the calm in his own voice.

"None of these have drowned themselves," the siren replied, gesturing to the impossible meadow behind her. A smile flickered across her face and moonlight glinted off a row of teeth far too sharp and pointed for such a human mouth. "The difficulty is in leaving once you have heard the secrets, and I have promised you free passage, seaman."

And that, Rumplestiltskin supposed, was as much reassurance as he was ever going to get. "I am looking for my son," he told her.

"Ever since his mother left you and took him with her," the siren said, her words blossoming into melody, even as she spoke. Rumplestiltskin's fingers dug into the side of the boat, but he did not move. "You searched for him, year after year, but the sea is vast, and you had little means of travelling it. You even found his mother, but she had long since lost sight of him herself. You let her go." She seemed almost surprised.

"What else could I do?" Rumplestiltskin whispered. "She had as much reason to look for him as I did; that way, maybe one of us would get him back."

"She died," the siren said, matter-of-factly. "In a storm. Almost a year ago."

Rumplestiltskin didn't ask the siren why she was telling him all of this. He was only surprised that the news of Milah's death didn't affect him more. Maybe, he thought, he had made peace with her absence too long ago to be shocked at this point. Still, this was a distraction. "I know most of this," he told her, "I need to know where Bae is now."

The siren's eyes glazed over for a moment as if looking at something far away. "An island," she said. "A wild place of cruel games and shadows, where children never learn and never grow up."

Rumplestiltskin mouth went dry as his heart sank. He knew the place she was describing. "Is he…" He swallowed. "Is he still alive?"

"You only bargained for one answer only," the siren said. "But yes. He is alive and afraid, and he is waiting for you."

The thought that Bae had spent any time at all, let alone years in that place made Rumplestiltskin's stomach churn, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. He would just have to find a way to save him now.

He became aware of the siren's curious stare on him.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to push aside the chaos of emotions.

"Why is this boy so important to you?"

Rumplestiltskin frowned, unsure how to answer. "He is my son," he simply repeated. "He... he is everything to me."

"How do you think to free him?" The siren sounded genuinely curious, her head cocked to one side in an almost birdlike manner.

"I don't know yet," Rumplestiltskin admitted.

The siren kept looking at him with that same inscrutable stare. "Stay," she said.

Rumplestiltskin almost laughed. "Why would I ever do that?"

"I can help you find your son," the siren answered. "I can help you save him. That island will not be easy to find, but I can bring us there through the ways of the immortals. You could take him back to live the life he should have had." She leaned forward until she was almost touching the boat. "All I ask in return is your word that you will come back to me."

The offer was tempting if it could be trusted, but Rumplestiltskin did not think that the siren would lie to him. That did, however, raise another question. "Why do you want me?"

"My flock is dead," the siren said. "My brothers and sisters, everyone I ever loved or cared about, long gone. I long for company and you are the first in centuries to find me not because I called, but because you chose to."

Rumplestiltskin remembered the melancholy in her song, and he knew that she was telling the truth. Still, he hesitated. He had no illusions about what a life at the siren's side would look like; there was no coming back once you sided with a monster over the whole of humanity. And he could not pretend that he was doing this for Bae, not entirely.

Then again, what had humanity—his own or that of others—ever done for him? The siren's stare never wavered, and Rumplestiltskin found himself staring back, lost in the endless blue of her eyes.

"Agreed," he said. "Help me save my son, and I'll stay with you."

"Are you certain?" the siren asked. "This is not a step you can return from."

"Just… just one thing." Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath. "What is your name?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback, but then the expression turned to bemused curiosity. "My sisters called me Belle."

Rumplestiltskin nodded. Belle. It suited her. "Then you have a deal."

A slow, genuine smile spread over her face, once more exposing those sharp teeth. Belle reached out for him, and this time, Rumplestiltskin did not shrink back. Her hand closed around his wrist, soft and slightly too cold to be entirely human, and he let himself fall into her embrace as she pulled him down and under the waves.

#rumbelle showdown #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #round two entry #author: Cobalt #group B #rumbelle showdown 2019 #rumbelleshowdown

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choicesatnight · 5 years

Text

Black Mamba

Title: Black Mamba

Characters: James Ashton, Vivian, Reyna, Abbie (Freshman Series, MC), Comfort (OC)

Rating: NSFW and stuff...

Word count: 1,942 words

My disclaimer: These characters are owned by PB (minus OC obvi), I just enjoy some elaboration. I really love James Ashton and I love Choices fanfics, especially nasty ass stuff but there isn’t much featuring my original bae, James Ashton from The Freshman series

So, I decided to put my amateur ass talent to work and write with James being the *star of the story*

A/N: * is a separator due to scene change

It's getting close. Two months left before James and Vivian meet their son. James is much more excited than Vivian, he decorated a nursery both in his and in her apartment. Vivian picked out some things but is selfishly focused on getting back what belongs to her: James. She and Shaun are no longer kissing buddies because she continuously blames him for the breakup. Vivian spends all of her time in baby prep with James or trying to perfect her plan to get James back.

On the other side of the game, James and Comfort are living their best lives.

"Hun, look what I made you" Comfort shows James the heart-eyed emoji cake she’s finished in their cooking class. 😍

He smiles at her and shapes his fingers into a heart before returning to the flour mix in front of him to make his cake.

"You want me to finish? Baking is kinda my thing" Comfort teases James who has not mastered the art of baking.

"No, no. I’m going to make the kiss emoji for you." 😘

He's determined to at least try to make this cake.

"I'd much rather the real thing." She says in reference to the kiss emoji cake he plans to attempt.

She leans closer to him

"Oh really?" He pulls her closer and closer until a kiss is no longer optional. She wraps her soft arms around his neck; her heels making her tall enough to reach his lips without standing on her toes. He deepens the kiss, fingers intertwined with the tight coils of her natural curls. She moans, tasting the sweet red he sipped during the dinner lesson on his lips before she barely pulls away.

"We’re the only ones left. Let's get out of here." They kiss again. James catches eyes with the teacher and nods his head toward the door.

“Yeah, let's go " he reaches to grab her hand and they walk out, hand in hand.

Walking to the car in the cool night air, James looks at Comfort. The way her jeans are fitted at her thighs especially.

She catches him staring. "What?"

"Baby, can I walk behind you!? I need to watch that ASS!' She laughs. "Silly is what you are. Silly."

"Honestly, you're gorgeous. You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

"James Sexy Ashton. Are you trying to take me home?"

"You gonna let me?" She smiles as James opens the passenger side door for her, letting her get in the car before he shuts her door and gets in the car to begin the drive back to his place.

"Comfort. Let's go car shopping tomorrow. "

"You want to buy a new car?"

"I need to. I need a bigger car for when my son is here."

Parked at his complex and now in his apartment, the conversation continues

"I'll go with you."

"I want you to help me pick a car" He is changing into his pajamas when she realizes that she didn’t bring any overnight clothes.

"You're so damn sexy. Can I wear the shirt that you aren't?"

James turns to grab a shirt out of his drawer to hand to her and they get in bed. He turns on the television but they both have books to read. Comfort lies on top of the bedding with James tee on, wearing her glasses and reading James' book Prescribe to love.

"Really, baby?" James looks at Comfort in disbelief.

"What? It's my favorite book!"

"Yeah, okay" he puts his book down and hops on top of her; tickling her stomach and showering her face with wet kisses. He fights against her kicking and laughing before he retreats.

"You kicked me pretty hard."

Comfort grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks together, "Aww does honey have a boo-boo? Did I hurt you honey?” she kisses his lips and to his pleasant surprise, she deepens the kiss while allowing her hands to roam, tracing the muscles of his chest and feeling his broad shoulders.

"Baby..." James calls to her before continuing their kiss down to her neck where he focuses for a minute while his own hands travel further up her thigh until he is at her panty line.

"Do you want me to stop?" He speaks in a grainy whisper. This will be their first time together and James doesn’t want to rush anything with her. It’s gotta be perfect.

"No, sweetheart, don’t stop." She is speaking softly though the desire in her voice is apparent. She's only wearing James t-shirt and her panties when James glides the shirt off of her. He looks in her eyes, "How'd I get so lucky? You're like the moon. Brightening my darkness."

She pulls him into a kiss and her hands find their way to his waistband, pushing his pants down revealing his boxer briefs. "Rope Burn" by Janet Jackson plays softly in the background until a mostly naked Comfort turns it just a little louder, "Dance for me honey"

Without hesitation, James stands up to dance for her. Rolling his body and gyrating his hips

"I'm so out of my element," he thinks but doesn't dare show insecurity.

"Come closer"

She grabs hold of his hand and pulls him as near to the edge of the bed as possible. Following the outline of his erect dick with her tongue only made the imprint more pronounced. She breathes on the imprint, allowing him to feel the moisture of her breath as she watches his excitement become more visible.

"Comfort, Baby, you're so sexy."

"Shhhh" she places a finger to his lips and starts kissing his waist, slowly pulling his boxers down and kissing every part of his pelvis except his dick. She kisses down until her lips meet his balls. Opening her mouth wider to suck them both. "Mmmmmm" moaning at the sensation of his smooth skin in her mouth. Slowly pumping her hand back and forth on his dick.

"Comfort..."

“Hush. Stay where you are” she speaks so softly; the tone sends tingles in his body. How is she so sexy, so in control of her femininity and how did she hide such freakiness? She gets on her back, head hanging off the bed and immediately returns to sucking his balls. Somehow her head being in a different position gives a different, equally amazing sensation. He's never done this before, but he cannot get enough of it now.

"Baby, " each time he starts to speak, he trails off into moaning. Wildly licking, her tongue meets the skin between his balls and his ass and he doesn't protest so she doesn't stop. This is new territory for James, but it feels amazing allowing her tongue to explore a little more before he speaks

"Damn baby," thinking she is finished but she tells him "Fuck my face." James is equal parts excited and amazed. He didn't know she was a freak like this but he’s certainly loving it. She opens her mouth. “Feed me that dick.” He slowly drops his dick in and out of her mouth until she grasps his thighs pushing him deeper in her throat. Saliva spilling her lips as she holds him in place, forcing him to keep his dick in her throat.

"Comfort. Baby. I..." she releases him from her throat to jack him off, sucking his balls as she does.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh" he explodes on the bed, but Comfort continues to jack him off until he pushes her torso down. "My turn" he pushes her legs apart...

"It's hot like summer now, being pregnant "

"The temperature changes are that vivid?"

Abbie asks in disbelief at her friend's exaggerations.

"Yes. They are. Wait till you get pregnant. Anyway, I have to get James back."

"Is he single?"

"No Abbie and guess who he’s dating"

"Becca"

"What? Hell no. Remember Reyna?"

"That girl you worked on the newspaper with Sophomore year of college?"

"Yup. But don’t worry. I have a plan and you will know when it's done."

"Okay, don't get crazy Vivian. "

"Don't worry. I have a call to make though. I'll call you later, k?"

"Okay, bye."

Vivian hangs up with Abbie and dials Reyna.

"Hello?"

"Reyna! Hey! Its Vivian, how are you? Long-time. "

"Hey, Vivian. I'm fine, how are you?"

"Pretty good. Are you still doing investigative journalism?"

"Yes, actually I'm trying to become a reporter. do you have a lead?"

"Less of a professional lead, more of a personal deal but I'm willing to pay and you'll get to flex your skills. Let's meet over coffee to sort everything out. Is that cool?"

Reyna thinks at least I can see James, not knowing that they aren't together anymore

"Sure."

"Great. Why don't I meet you at Linnie’s? I'm sure you know it, the little mom and pop cafe by James' place."

"Umm Sure. Okay" meanwhile Reyna is wondering, why would I know this coffee shop? Why is she referring to his apartment as James' place, doesn't she live there also? Vivian has always been a little strange to her, so she shrugs her shoulders and goes to meet Vivian.

Reyna, of course, arrives first and sits patiently awaiting Vivian. Vivian is only a couple minutes behind her and walks up smiling and apologizing.

"You just move a little slower when you're seven months pregnant. "

"It doesn't even feel as though seven months have passed. I still remember when James first said you were pregnant.”

Vivian rubs her belly, "Believe me, I've been aware of each of these months" she laughs "Where is James?"

Reyna scrunches her eyes in confusion, "I don't know..."

"Okay. Well, drinks on me. What would you like?"

"How generous of you. Any dark roast with two cream and one sugar. " Reyna didn't want to argue, but she already made plans to slip Vivian money for the coffee.

"Got it. I'll be right back."

Vivian orders and receives the coffee and a hot cider for herself. When mixing in Reyna's cream and sugar she is careful to be unseen slipping a good amount of something extra and stirs. Returning to the table with both cups in hand must look difficult as Reyna stands up to grab a cup from Vivian though she has already made it back to the table and Reyna returns to sitting.

"Thank you, Vivian. So how has your pregnancy been?"

Vivian takes a seat, waiting for Reyna to sip.

"Not bad. I'm mostly hungry, sleepy and hot but our boy has been good to his mother" she rubs her belly while looking down affectionately and notices Reyna still has not taken a sip, so she takes one first.

"How are you and James, Reyna?" Reyna takes a sip.

"Huh? Wha?"

"You heard me. How are you and my man? "

"I ca..I..." Reyna passes out to the ground.

"Oh my God! Help!!" Vivian screams and another customer calls 911.

The moment the ambulance arrives, the tech looks at Vivian, “I'm sorry miss. She’s…no longer with us." But Vivian has set her eyes on James, who stands outside the cafe after hearing familiar names on the news. She walks to him, "I’m so sorry about your girlfriend " her face gets angry when she notices a lady’s hand in his. "What? Vivian, this is my girlfriend " he pulls Comfort closer to him and introduces them. "But we can get to know each other later. What happened to Reyna? Is she okay?" Vivian ignores him and walks away

"Damnit! I killed the wrong bitch" she speaks under her breath while heading back into the café to pretend she cares\

Teeny tiny tag list

@zigortega4life

@littlecrookedheart

#JamesAshton #Abbie #Reyna #TheFreshmanSeries #Choices #FreakyFics

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 6 years

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Sun

Part 2

Part 1

(Bruises, Haven)

Loki x Reader fluff

I decided to write an extension. This is pure experimentation, my dudes. Your feedback is more than welcome. I actually could use some right now. Use my Ask box as much as you like.

Warnings: None...unless you count second-hand embarrassment.

Word Count:...I give up

(This gif doesn't belong to me. Credits to the owner.)

"Oh my God! For the last time Peter I don't know those movies! How are we supposed to work together and stay alive when I don't even know half the stuff you mak-AAH!"

You were thrown into the air before your back felt itself being scratched by the ground.

"Eyes on the enemy, Y/N!" Steve shouted as he blocked Bucky's punches and sent his shield flying around to take down Scott's Ant-Man form towering over Clint.

"Sorry, Captain," you said, getting back up on your feet. Wanda saw you and readied her hands as she waved them around to send a string of plasmic pulses shooting towards you but you blocked them in time, sending them back on to her and Sam.

"Son of a-,"

"Language." Peter webbed Sam's wings and weapon slots as he swung over him and on to Scott's arm.

"Peter, the back!" Steve shouted as he pinned Bucky down, with his arms tightened around his best friend's neck.

You saw Steve watching Peter, never feeling Bucky get the knife out of his belt.

Instinct took over you as you curled up your hands in a fist, gathering power around it and screaming, "Steve, move!" and punching it through the air towards Bucky, taking him, Sam and Scott down like a bunch of multi-sized dominoes.

An air horn broke the deafening silence.

"Pathetic. You all got beaten up by one person at the same time. Why does Tony even keep you here." Loki's dead toned sarcasm ringed through the practice grounds, receiving multiple curses at once- which he quite enjoyed for reasons known to him.

"Good job with the final blow, Y/N." Steve patted you on the back, allowing you to catch your breath as you picked up his shield and handed it to him.

"You know I really wanted to end it with 'Eyes on the enemy, Captain' but SOMEONE RUINED MY MOMENT!" you shouted loud enough so that the God of Mischief could hear it and roll his eyes at you, knowing full well that you knew he had blown that horn on purpose.

"Oh! And sorry for calling you Steve, Captain. I just saw the knife and threw all sense out of the window."

It felt weird now as the adrenaline had washed off and you realised you had never addressed the Captain so casually before.

"It's fine," Steve said, giving you his warmest smile as you both headed to the weapons deposit corner to return your protective gear and comms, "I'd rather you call me Steve than Rogers or Captain. I'm tired of the formal greetings from you guys anyway."

"Cool! Keeping it warm and casual from now on." You said, smiling at the idea of getting to call the Avenger like any of your family members.

"Speaking of casual. May I ask what's going on between you and Loki?"

The question caught you off-guard, allowing you to blurt out a flabbergasted "W-wh-aa-haaa-?"

"He's asking if you two... Fondue-d?"

Peter came down, balancing himself on his rope, taking you both by surprise.

"Wait, how did you-? And that's not what I meant, Y/N, I'm so sorry." a flushed faced Steve looked between him and you.

"Mr Stark told us, who in turn was told about the whole fondue thing by Ms Carter. Actually, it slipped into the conversation when he was trying to have 'the talk' with me and couldn't say the s-word. We all found it funny." Peter could not wipe the wide grin on his face.

Steve turned to you wide-eyed looking for some ray of hope that all of this wasn't true.

"Yeah, that happened," you ripped it out fast, not allowing any room for a doubt.

"Tony! We need to talk!" Steve shouted as he stormed off into the building, leaving you and Parker giggling.

"So..." Peter was still hanging there upside down, swinging lightly as he looked at you with teasing glint in his eyes.

"So?" You threw back casually, not letting him smell that you knew what he was looking for.

"Did you guys...fonduuuuue?" He teased, swinging a bit wildly towards you as he exaggerated his words.

"Peter, stop! Why are you so interested in us...fondue-ing...why are you interested anyways?!" You said, tearing out your gloves and knee-pads, trying not to make eye contact with your friend while talking about sex. You two had often talked a lot about the s-word out loud, but it was always in context with jokes, serious discussions, discussions you two thought were serious and while watching Discovery Channel. This was different than those times, not to mention something you'd like to keep private.

"What does it have to do with me?" Peter had been offended by that question. He dangled closer to you with a serious expression on his face as his brows furrowed and his eyes and his lips pressed in dismay.

"Do you have any idea what the last six months have been like for me?"

"Wai-"

"Shush, girl, I'm talking. Do you have any idea what it was like to see you and Loki emanate the true ship vibe the moment your right hook met his jaw the first time you two met?"

"Wow! Someone's been upgrading their vocabulary and boy is it not the chemical names of lab-made polymers! And what the hell do you me-"

"Bup-bup-bup." He shut your lips with his free hand as he continued.

"You two had been dripping in sexual tension from the moment you laid eyes on each other and THAT'S COnd THAT'sCOMING FROM nd THAT'sCOnd THAT'sCOMING FROM MEME-" he pressed your lips shut tighter as you tried to speak and continued, "and don't get me started on your arguments. Him throwing his on-point sarcasm and critical thoughts like a dodge ball and you taking them like some professional player and reading right through them as if you'd done this before. I mean, you have, given your history. And then being patient with him, surprising him countless times. Do you know how much the two of you drained me emotionally? All you two had to do was be in the same room and I had to restrain myself from making the two of you sit down face to face and shouting 'Just kiss already goddamit' as loud as possible. So no wonder I was over the moon when you kissed Mr Friggason- yes, that's what Loki and I agreed I could call him- and I'm waiting when you two will make it official. Like holding-hands-in-the-public-going-full-PDA official, okay. Because not knowing is killing my ship here, sister. Big time!"

Peter let go of your lips, and the blood rushed to your cheeks, burning them, wishing they could spread to your entire body and engulf you in flames.

"No, they haven't done anything yet. I can still sense their sexual tension for miles." A voice came from inside your ear.

Your comms had been active the entire time and Natasha thought it was necessary for the entire team to know about this vital piece of information.

"What the f-" you tore away the comms, hurting your ear and tried to walk away as quickly as possible but not before you hit Peter with a look of disgust.

Everyone who'd been practising in the compound had broken down into giggles and tried their best to suppress it the moment you came face to face with all of them.

"Come on guys! Give her break." Scott rested a hand on his hips and waved the free one around, brushing off the air.

"Thank you for being the adult around here," you said as your voice mocked everyone else presents there.

"No, I meant to give you a break so you actually get down to doing something with your... boyfriend? Bae? I don't what you kids call it these days."

You raised your hand, palm pointing up in the sky in a 'What the fuck, Scott?' motion as everyone around you snickered.

"I sometimes feel bad for Hope, you know. She's dating a twelve-year-old. Your poor...girlfriend? Babe? I don't know what you two call yourself in your...relationship." The smirk on your lips didn't budge as you could see Scott shift from one foot to another.

"Okay, that was harsh. We are dating, we haven't defined anything yet, and that was harsh."

Natasha patted Scott on the back as he tried to find his composure.

"In all seriousness guys, could we please stop? I mean, technically, in God years Loki's what...seventeen right now. And I'm like four years older than him. In human years, that is. So please, let's just not talk about the fondue-ing. He isn't even an adult yet."

"Who isn't an adult?" Loki's voice called from right behind you. You cursed internally for the times you weren't a fan his teleportation powers when he would plant himself purposely behind you and watch you jump and turn around with your fists ready to land a punch.

What you did know-and, oddly, liked- was how his gaze would never falter as he would watch your stance fall, fists opening and your body losing its tension on seeing him, making his eyes smile every single time without fail.

"You," Clint called out from behind Loki as he sat on a makeshift boulder, resetting the compound climate and vegetation on his tablet.

"You are not an adult and you're not supposed to do stuff that kids won't," he said, never looking up from his tablet.

In one sentence, Clint had shut everyone up, leaving no room for anymore teasing.

Sam and Scott quietly slipped away to the weapons deposit corner as Wanda and Nat shifted to your either side while Bucky and Peter moved beside Clint.

You made a mental note to get Clint as many free coupons as possible to all his favourite restaurants and gift shops.

Loki wore a confused look on his face and Clint sensed it being directed towards him, nudging Peter in response.

"Right. Sorry." Peter raised his brows and brought his hands together, ready to explain to the class what was going on.

"We calculated your age on the human year scale and you are just as old as me. Maybe even a bit younger. And by we, I mean Y/N and I. By calculated I mean we came across the math. On the internet. But we did verify it ourselves." He ended proudly.

Before Loki could say anything, the sky cracked and thunder came down, the compound, burning the grass where it struck

"Come on man! I literally just carpeted that area." Clint groaned out loud as the bots, who'd just rolled out the greens, threw rocks at the God of thunder.

Thor tried to ignore the bots as he walked towards your small gathering and greeted everyone with a huge smile.

"Everyone, I have news. Asgard has been restored to its former glory. As the new King, I invite you all to the birth-day celebrations and finally show you how the Asgardians party." "Also because I am being coronated." He added sheepishly.

"Yes! Avengers vacation to Asgard! Avengecation!!" Peter chimed in before pausing wide-eyed, being hit with a sudden compulsory thought. "Wait. I'll have to ask aunt May."

"Stark already asked her. You will be joining everyone else." Loki said, allowing Peter to jump in the air with excitement and ran back into the facility to get ready.

"Yeah, that's all good but," Wanda cut in, looking at Thor, "I remember it clearly it's not your birthday any time soon."

Thor chuckled. "It's not mine. It's Loki's. We're celebrating my brother tonight!"

Thor said as he playfully punched Loki and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close, drawing nothing but a sharp exhale of his cold breath.

"Oh!" Sam and Scott came back- and as they would seem to say- right on time for him to mention, "So, Loki, does that mean you are turning eighteen today, in the human years scale?" as he raised an eyebrow towards you, forcing you to relive your life in flashes to find out what was it you did in the past that has come back to haunt you as moments of embarrassment.

"Yes," Loki confirmed as he looked at Clint with a slight bow, "I am," before turning back to you with a sly smile and a wink, making every inch of your body shudder- surprisingly, both in fear and anticipation.

"Yay. Happy birthday," you trembling voice squeaked, giving him a thumbs up and you a couple thousands of seconds to bury yourself in anxious thoughts as to what was going to-or not going to- happen tonight.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki (marvel)#loki x oc #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x original female character #loki x y/n #loki x ofc #loki odinson #loki friggason #loki smut #marvel fluff #marvel soft smut #marvel smut #fluff #smut

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thejollyroger-writer · 6 years

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Keep Hope Close at Hand - Chapter Four

Summary: When a curse is going to send the inhabitants of Enchanted Forest, Captain Killian Jones, husband to the Princess, must take their daughter through the wardrobe to save them from the curse and give her the ability to break the curse when the time comes.

Tags: @shireness-says @wellhellotragic @flyflyangel @stahlop@superchocovian @kingofmyheart14 @drkeldonmd @darkcolinodonorgasm@profdanglaisstuff @pirateherokillian

Start at the Beginning: tumblr // AO3

Chapter One: tumblr // AO3

Chapter Two: tumblr // AO3

Chapter Three: tumblr // AO3

Also on AO3!

“Daddy, it’s beautiful!”

Hope has seen her fair share of ships in her twelve years of life; Killian made sure of it, taking her to museums and tours, the U. S. S. Constitution a normal location for them to spend a few hours at least once a month. But, looking at the Jolly Roger looming in front of her, you would think by the look on her face that she had never seen a ship before.

Though Killian is aware that the Jolly is perhaps more beautiful and pristine than many, thank you very much.

“She, darling,” he corrects.

“What?”

“Ships are referred to as she .”

“But why?”

Killian looks down at his daughter once more, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Because, my darling lass, women are the most important thing in the life of a man, just as ships are the most important thing to the life of a sea captain.” He leans down, trying his hardest to keep his balance, a skill that has lost its ease since the last time he was at sea, just so he can whisper in her ear, “Would you like to board her?”

Hope nods her head vigorously, and Killian is both amazed and unsurprised at her response. The Jolly should have been her home for the past twelve years. Her life started on that ship, both from conception and birth, and it is completely unfair to her that she has not been able to even know about the ship that meant so much to her own family. All Killian can do now is make up for lost time.

Once they have reached the Jolly with the rowboat, Killian tethers it to the side of the ship so they can climb up the ladder, allowing Hope to take her time and go first.

“Welcome home, my darling,” he says, taking her into his arms as they stand on the deck. “Would you like a tour!”

“Yes, please!”

Holding her on his hip as long as he can muster (his bones have apparently gotten old, too), he walks around the ship, taking his time to show her all the cabins, the crew’s quarters, the kitchen, before walking her around the deck, her hand clamped around his, showing her the pieces of the riggings, how to ready her to begin sailing with all of the ropes and the sails, before ending triumphantly at the helm.

Being behind the helm — his helm — finally, after so long, and able to have her on the open water instead of just tied to the docks in Misthaven as King David insisted, is somehow even a better feeling than Killian imagined it would have been. Including its time in Misthaven when Killian sailed under another flag and sailing the Jolly was “no longer needed,” in David’s words, it has been more than fifteen years since Killian was last able to sail her.

And, for a man who has been alive for more than three hundred years, those fifteen have seemed incredibly long.

He is back where he belongs, back where he was made to be, with his daughter standing beside him, her small hands looking even smaller when compared to the size of the helm. His life is almost complete.

All he needs now is his wife back.

They sail back to the dock in silence, Hope watching in awe when Killian turns the helm and the sails shift direction, and Killian watching lovingly as his daughter is finally able to appreciate one of the most important possessions in his life. When they reach the dock, Killian expects to find Smee outside of the office, having seen the Jolly come in, but no one is there.

Even as he sails to where Smee told him to dock his ship, the entire shore remains empty, completely devoid of movement — which Killian finds incredibly interesting, since there were people not only on the dock and the dockside when they took off, but also scattered across the beach. But as he climbs off the deck and tethers himself to the dock, everything around him is silent, still.

Curious.

Before they leave, Killian takes one of the envelopes from next to the office door, slips a handful of bills in it, enough to cover the first few weeks, and slides it under the door with his name scrawled across the front.

“What’s next, daddy?” Hope asks, taking his hand once more as they walk down the abandoned dock and back towards the town.

“Next is the pawn shop near Granny’s, I’m hoping they have something that I have been missing for quite a while.”

“How would they have something of yours? I thought you were never here before?”

Killian nods, realizing just how much more to this story there is than the pieces he told Hope just that morning. Pieces that he will have to continue to explain to her if he wants her to understand the plan he has formulated, even if it is just pieces of a plan.

“In the book Henry gave me to read, it says that the pawn shop is where things people lost in the curse all came to when the Evil Queen created this land, especially things that would help people here remember who they really are. You already heard Henry say that I was Captain Hook, but one of the things that I left with your mother when we went through the wardrobe was my hook for her to remember me by. But since everything related to the truth is hidden in that shop, I'm hoping that my hook will be there, as well.”

Hope is silent for a moment, and when Killian turns his head down to her, she is nodding.

“Okay, daddy,” she says. “If you say that's right, then I believe you.”

Gods , she really is too good for him.

What he doesn't expect to find when he walks through the door of the pawn shop, however, is his crocodile, the man he chased for decades in hopes of finally getting his revenge for taking Milah from him.

Though in this land, the name Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't do, so he goes instead by Mr. Gold, owner of the pawn shop that holds the lost and magical artifacts from the Enchanted Forest.

Seeing his face before him after so long — though, of course, it's a much different face than he remembers, far less scaly and reptilian and more… normal — makes Killian do a double take, and he is happy that Hope is slowly making her way around the shop, taking in everything that's available. Does Gold have his memories? The man who taught the Evil Queen how to do magic, the reason she was able to cast a spell in the first place, nonetheless a curse?

Swallowing his silence with a large gulp, he approaches the counter instead of following Hope around the room, hoping that Rumple has no idea that he's Rumple in the first place.

“Good afternoon,” Gold says, turning his face from Hope to Killian for the first time since they entered the shop. “How may I help you?”

By the tone of his voice, the lack of recognition on his face, Killian continues to assume the man's memories have also been erased, though Rumpelstiltskin was never a man that allowed himself to be read easily.

“I'm looking for something, and from what I've been able to learn, this is the place it seems most likely to have ended up.”

Gold nods, just as another man appears from the shop behind him — a man who seems familiar to Killian, though he is unable to place his face. It's not his biggest concern at the moment.

“Is that so?” Gold asks, maintaining his unresponsive look. “What is it that I can help you find?”

“Well, it's a hook —” he starts, but before he can say any more, Hope calls out from across the room:

“Daddy, Daddy, I think I found it!”

Killian turns towards his daughter's voice, then smiles across the counter at Mr. Gold and the man standing behind him before moving over to where she is standing.

He follows her point into the case in front of her, and she is correct. There, between a bracelet he knows he's seen on Ariel before and the hilt of a sword bearing the Camelot sigil, sits his hook. Turning back towards the counter, he points into the case in front of him.

“There it is!”

Gold turns to the man behind him, gesturing towards the case Killian is pointing into.

“Neal, my boy, will you assist this man?” he asks, then disappears into the back without another word, even before getting a response from Neal.

Neal.

Suddenly, the pieces lock together. Neal is married to Emma here because of the curse, but Neal is also Rumple’s son, which would make him…

Bae, who he hadn’t seen since he was a boy, though he must have returned to the Enchanted Forest at some point in order to be here now.

Trying to keep the surprise off his face, Killian simply turns his attention back towards the case, keeping his eye on the hook as Neal pulls it off the velvet underneath it and hands it to him.

“Will that be everything for you?”

Killian is about to say yes, especially knowing that everything here, like his hook, already belongs to someone else. But, out of sheer curiosity, he begins to look around the shop instead of just paying for his hook and leaving.

He follows Hope to a display of jewelry, smiling down at her when she turns her eyes up to him, but his smile disappears when he sees what she is reaching out to touch: a necklace with a small metal ship wheel hanging from it.

A necklace that he bought Emma on his last voyage as a pirate, before he offered her father to give up his title to marry her.

“And this necklace,” he says, nodding down at Hope as she begins to take it down off the display. “Yes, that will be everything.”

As he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, the bell over the door rings, and he turns around to find the one face he was surprised to have gone this long without encountering:

Regina. The Evil Queen.

Killian tries to play dumb, hoping that she, too, is cursed, but he knows she can’t be — it’s her curse, why would she curse her own memories?

Slowly, dramatically, she walks over to him until she is just a few inches from his face. “I’ve been searching for you,” she says quietly, the smile on her face showing that she is trying to seem civil, but he knows from experience that civil has never been something she has been good at. She turns to Gold, who has come back into the shop. “Would I be able to borrow your office for a few minutes while I have a chat with our newcomer?”

“Of course, Mayor Mills,” Gold agrees, gesturing back towards the office, and Killian follows Regina there, his hand wrapped tightly around Hope’s, but Regina turns around to stop them when she realizes this.

“You can leave your daughter out here. This will only take a few moments.”

Hope looks up at him, her bright eyes suddenly full of terror, not even sure why she is afraid, but Killian’s eyes narrow, never leaving Regina’s.

“No,” he says firmly, shaking his head. “No, whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to my daughter, as well. I’m not going anywhere without her.”

It’s a challenge, more of one than Killian was intending, but Regina just frowns, then after a moment, she nods and turns back around.

Only then does Killian turn down to Hope and smile at her, adding a quick wink before following Regina into the back of the pawn shop.

#khcah #keep hope close at hand #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cs ff #cs fics #ouat #ouat ff #fanfiction #canon rewrite #cursed storybrooke

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killian-whump · 6 years

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OUAT 3x04: Rewatch Liveblog

Hey guys! I'm back again with another rewatch liveblog. Man, I'm kinda storming through S3 so far, due to the lack of Killian whump in a lot of these early episodes. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll make up for that by spending a quarter of a century on the next episode :P

But before THAT episode, we have THIS one! It's episode 3x04, and it's called "Nasty Habits". Unfortunately, none of those habits seem to be torturing pirates, because there's only some Killian angst in this one.

Well, let's watch it anyway... ;)

Neal bondage. Way to start off an episode!

Shame I'm not that into Neal, though :/

Hahaha, and Felix isn't even good at tying people up. Theeeere goes Bae.

Gotta admit, his "I'm not a boy anymore, and I sure ain't lost" is kinda hot XD

Bae: "Papa, I told you: I don't want anymore gifts from the people you terrorize." Ummm. Rumple, that's super fucking creepy. Rumple: "Then what do you want?" LIKE, LITERALLY ANYTHING THAT ISN'T THAT.

Hey, solid question here, but why IS the Dark One still living in a hovel at this point?

Oh, totally unnecessary but kinda awesome warpaint time.

And creepy Belle conjuring time. I mean, kudos to you for maintaining your child-like wonder, Rumple, but having invisible friends at your age IS kinda weird. Just saying.

Although, I mean, it DOES do a solid job of giving Rumple a chance to tell the audience his own inner doubts and fears in a far less creepy way than having him literally talking to himself.

So there's that.

Wow, that's a really nice little miniature "Pan's Compound" made out of rocks and sticks. Did they all work together to gather the rocks and arrange everything so artfully? Or did one of them just sit there and do this on their own like the world's loneliest middle school art project? And if so, who?

"It's not the sticks you need to worry about. It's the poison they're dipped in." MEANINGFUL OMINOUS CAPTAIN CHARMING LOOK BEHOOOOOOOOLD

Tink: "One nick, and you'll spend the rest of yo-" Dave: "Poison sticks equal death. We got it." No, no, Dave. Let her finish. This sounds relevant to my interests.

Tink looks so cheerful as she says she's ready to go as soon as they tell her the exit plan. Oh, sweet summer child. You're obviously new here.

...ALL of their faces right here. They're all like, "Oh shit, we were hoping you wouldn't ask us that." Except Hook, who looks as vaguely amused by their reactions as we are.

Regina's SO happy to hear of Greg's demise. I FEEL YOU, GIRL. I FEEL YOU.

David: "what about you, Hook? You got off this island before." Hook: "Yes. Aboard my ship, which would require some form of magic to create a portal, which... I got from Pan, in a deal I don't think he's ready to repeat." TELL US MORE OR I SWEAR TO GOD

He can't even meet anyone's eyes as he says it, either. Just what WAS that deal, Hook? Don't make me imagine it. You won't like what I imagine. Mmmm. I like what I'm imagining...

More angst. Yum.

Ahh... Rumple hears the murmurings of conversation...

BAM! Poppy dust to the face! Why did he use poppy dust, though? I mean, I assume it's poppy dust, since it looked the same as when Tink knocked Regina out last episode - which was pointed out to be done with poppy dust.

OH, HEY LOOK, GUYS, IT'S BAELFIRE

HE'S NOT DEAD, EVERYBODY!

Don't act like you've already known that since last season, because that's just gonna make Rumple feel bad for being so behind on the news.

THIS IS WHERE A COMMERCIAL WOULD BE IF WE HAD ANY

True Story: I meant to do this rewatch post the other day, but when I sat down to watch the episode, it turned out my copy of 3x04 was somehow episode 4 of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, so I had to go online and re-download the right episode, because of course I’m too lazy to rip my own videos. I just download them like the dirty pirate I am. Yarrrrrr.

Anyway, this episode seems to have slightly longer black breaks where the commercials were. Weird. Anyway...

SERIOUSLY, RUMPLE?!

We've already talked about how creepy it is, giving your kid "gifts" you stole from the people you torment with your dark magic.

Oh, look. Rumple's gone to Hamelin. And the children are missing. And there's a piper. And he wears a pied cloak. THIS SOUNDS FAMILIAR... (and I don't mean from the previous times I've seen this episode, you smart asses.)

Rumple: "Pan is too powerful. You can only beat him if you're willing to die... which I am." Ummm. But you were willing to die to save Henry because Baelfire was dead, and... and... I mean... *gestures vaguely* Neal: "What if I told you there was another way?"

No, apparently it involves attacking one of Kraken-san's friends and relations. Don't worry, guys, no krakens were harmed in the harvesting of this squid ink. This particular kraken lived long after this, and sired a bunch of tiny kraken babies who went on to plunder pirate butts all along the shores of Neverland after the realms were united in S7.

It's true. I made it up just now.

Hahahahaha, Regina. "What is this supposed to be?" Well, it looks like... a gigantic rock of some kind, but I'm no expert or anything.

Oh, it's the "hot" conversation. I love it XD And the way David snaps the rope away from Hook, like he doesn't need his piddly help. "And I'm plenty hot." Yeah, you sure are, Dave XD

Mmmm... Hook's so intense when he's talking to Dave. "Why don't you?"

"Oh, if there's one thing I've gleaned from you hero types, it's that there's always hope." <3

"Is there something you're not telling me... mate?" Oh, NOW he's your mate XD

"Alas, hope and reality are most often worlds apart." T_T

Sure, just shove him, Dave. Can't you see he's going through something here? Look how angsty he is. Like an angst burrito wrapped in black leather.

OH SHIT. NOT THIS AGAIN.

I love the way Emma calls out Hook’s name. It's so familiar <3

Come on, baby. You can light the torch this time. Just keep trying. You can do i- DAMMIT DAVE. Every time I watch this episode, you shove him out of the way and use your fancy shmancy modern lighter to light the torch. He's just an angsty pirate, trying the best he can with one hand and a hook T_T

Showin' him up in front of Emma and all that... SO MEAN T_T

Hook's face, tho XD

...and Emma's not even paying attention, anyway XD

On a more serious note, these kinds of bestings make me laugh. I love them all <3

Oh, back to Hamelin.

Yeah, follow those kids, Rumple. This is probably the only time saying that wouldn’t be super duper creepy.

Gee, that piper on the other side of the fire looks a bit familiar...

OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS, IT'S PETER FUCKING PAN D:

Pan really IS a little shit, though, isn't he? Hahaha. Such absolutely horrible things to say to your own kid. WORST PARENT ON THE SHOW. And there's a LOT of competition for that spot, let me tell you.

NM, I don't need to tell you. You all already know XD

"After all, being abandoned is what you're good at, isn't it?" JFC, dude, chill out or something. This isn't the Cruelty Olympics up in here. I'd know if it was. I'd be taking part... AND STILL SIDE-EYEING YOUR NASTY ASS.

Just kidding. Love you, boo. Keep being the best little shit this side of the sewage plant.

Hey, thanks a lot whichever one of you is responsible for this one. Now I can't watch this scene without thinking they're out of paper towels D:

Henry: "Sorry. I don't hear anything." Pan: "Interesting." I'll say.

Oh, so the sentries were knocked out by a sleeping spell... that looks exactly like a puff of poppy dust. Busy year in the effects department?

Pan: "Now, now, Felix. Where's your sense of adventure?" See, that's why I still love Pan, even though he's a complete piece of shit. He's a fun piece of shit. He really gets into his dastardly and deviant behavior.

JFC KNOCK IT OUT WITH THE LANTERNS NOW. I can only have so many orgas- OH, HI GUYS.

The way Colin pops those consonants on the word "important" XD I fucking love this man. Why is he so much the way he is?!

Hook: "He got it from his mother." OH GOD, BABY. Somebody hold me. I can't handle the look on his face after he says that. Oh shit. I've revealed feelings. RUN AWAY.

"Yes, because pre-teen Baelfire probably made lots of pasta." Never change, Regina. You’re my boo and you always will be <3

This scene is really pretty, though. I love the soft yellow glow coming out of the coconut and the stars across the ceiling. Pretty <3

THEY'RE STILL OUT OF PAPER TOWELS. Goddammit, you guys.

Wow. That was a powerful gust of magic. I wonder who could've been responsible for that?

Pan: "We have a guest!" Ummm... Hate to break it to you, but your party literally dropped dead asleep about 2 seconds ago, so nobody's listening XD

Pan: "Who could it be?" I WONDER.

Slick move there, Neal. I might just start to like you again, after all. Hope you don't die in the second half of the season or anything...

Awww. The sad thing is, the viewer knows Rumple actually isn't here to murder Henry, but poor Rumple - Neal doesn't know that :/

I actually hate storylines like this. I'd rather be kept in the dark. It's so frustrating when you know shit that the characters don't know. Key reason why I'm not into S1 very much, actually. But you didn't hear that from me. Remember: I only dislike it 'cos there's no pirates ;)

Neal: "It's Neal!" Wow. Getting really loud there, Bae- sorry, Neal. Oops.

Ahhhhh, Peter Pan, you little shit. Causing more trouble.

Neal: "We're safer without you." Ummm... Are you, though? Are you really?

"Nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I'm here." Oh, Mary Margaret. About that... Heh. Heh heh. Hmm.

Hey, look guys. It's Neal, and he's found the heroes' campsite!

...and now he's been caught by Pan. I hate to say I told you so, Neal, and I hate to say Rumple told you so, as well, but...

LITERALLY EVERYONE TOLD YOU SO, YOU IDIOT.

Ahahahaha, "Never break in somewhere unless you know the way out." Peter Pan taught him that. Nice one, show. I forgot about that detail.

"I'll remember that for next time." Ummm... Wait. What.

Dammit show. You giveth and you taketh away.

Poor Jared, hahaha. He spends most of this episode being fireman carried by various people. Acting is so glamorous.

Ooooh, a good old-fashioned manhandling right here. Love it.

It still bothers me that Rumple's entire reason for living is Bae. I mean, having (Rumple!)Belle literally saying that now that Neal's alive, Rumple has a reason for living again... It just makes me feel bad about that ship?

JFC WOULD SOMEONE GO TO THE STORE AND BUY MORE PAPER TOWELS FOR THESE BOYS?!?!

NOW HENRY HAS THE EMPTY PAPER TOWEL ROLLS

What are they even paying you people for?!

Wait. I'm not getting paid. Why are you guys getting paid if I'm not getting paid? Dammit, I quit.

PEW PEW PEW PEEEEEEEEEEW

#ouat rewatch #watching fairytales #ouat liveblog #3x04 #oc #kw reviews

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