#bloody mary has come back into my life after five years and now all i can think about is laurel (tragically so to my mental health)

[consciouschunkofmoss]

the creativity has striken and now my coccyx hurts like hell

[searchingforgravity]

Merry Christmas Baby - Day 4 (Elvis/ Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: It's Christmas Eve in Memphis and you are alone once again. Living far from your family has never been easy for you. You think you'll spend another Christmas alone until you see a man with jet black hair sitting alone at the bar. You strike up a conversation and discover that you won't be alone on Christmas after all.

TW: Car sex, semi public sex, smut, oral (male receiving), dirty talk

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 2874

A/N: Thank you for the request with this one, and happy reading! Also a note that Elvis isn't famous in this one.

"What'll it be, sweetie," the bartender asks as you approach the dim lit bar decked out in Christmas lights. "Just a vodka soda, thanks," you say and smile at her softly. She nods and heads off to make your drink. Sitting down at the bar stool, you sigh in anguish. Another Christmas Eve alone. Part of you curses moving away from home. You have no friends and you're barely getting anywhere in your career. You silently hope that things start to turn around in the New Year.

As the waitress brings your drink you sip on it, looking around the room. Except for the town drunk in the corner and a few girls drunkenly laughing at a table, it's pretty desolate. You decide that after this drink, you'll head out. You wonder why you thought it was a good idea to go out tonight anyway. Your eyes start to well up at the sudden pang of isolation you feel when you hear the bell ding, signaling that someone had entered the bar.

When your eyes instinctively go over to the now open door, you see the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. Surprisingly, he's alone. Almost as if feeling your eyes on him, he looks over and lands his gaze on yours. A rush of heat runs through you on it's own accord and you are quick to look away. You can hear the girls at the far table giggling louder and look in their direction. They are completely mesmerized by him as they swoon like school girls. You outwardly roll your eyes and sip again on your drink, although, internally, this man leaves you feeling just as wired as them.

"Hey there, handsome, what can I get for ya'," the same bartender asks the mystery man who decided to sit two seats down from you at the bar. "I'll just have a bloody mary, darlin'" he drawls. That accent, good God. You try your best to ignore this man that suddenly has you forgetting about your loneliness and thinking about things that aren't meant for public places. You distract yourself as you swirl your small black straw around the glass, the ice rattling gently inside. You almost choke on another sip of your drink when you hear a female voice approach right beside you. "Hey sexy, what are you doing here all alone?" she questions, her voice five octaves too high to be natural. She turns her back to you and flips her hair, nearly hitting you in the face with it. You internally groan at the arrogance of this girl as you decide to slide into the next seat over. She leans forward towards the man, making sure to put her breasts on full display. You hear him clear his throat gently as he puts his drink down, facing her. You look over and see her friends whispering quickly to each other, their eyes glued to the scene before them.

"What's a pretty little girl like you doin' out here on Christmas Eve? You away from home?" he responds without answering her question. "Oh yeah, me and my girls decided to come see Memphis for the holiday's. Maybe you could show us around," she breathes, leaning closer. A surprised cough leaves his mouth as he chokes on his drink. You don't have to guess at what this girl did to make him so flustered. "Sweet heart, I don't think I'm the typa man you want. And I'm just passin' through. Don't know my way 'round here much," he mumbles, shifting in his seat. She suddenly straightens up, embarrassed. "Oh, oh I see. I'm barking up the wrong tree aren't I?" She engages with him only for a few moments longer before returning to her seat. He's gay? The way you two looked at each other, you were sure there was some sort of spark. Your face falls slightly as you feel a wave of disappointment ring through you.

After about another fifteen minutes, the girls leave and you are almost done with your second vodka soda. You're about to call over the bartender when you are surprised to hear a voice from beside you. "Hey, watcha drinkin' sweetheart?" the mystery man says lowly, closer than you thought he was. You jump slightly at the unexpected question before looking to your left. You're immediately met with ocean blue eyes gazing into yours. "Oh," you whisper at the beautiful man beside you before collecting yourself as best you can. He has a soft smirk on his face that is making you feel like you need to take an immediate cold shower. You smile back despite yourself. "Oh, I was just about to close out. You don't have to get me anything," you say, thinking he is just trying to be nice since you're alone. His face falls slightly at hearing you say this.

"Oh, I wish you wouldn't. Was really lookin' forward to talkin' to ya'" He breathes as his eyes quickly travel to your lips and back up again. The way he's looking at you...he can't possibly be gay. "I ain't gay, baby," he states, as if reading your mind. "Just needed to give an excuse to that girl. Didn't wanna break her heart," He mumbles as he absentmindedly leans in closer to you. It makes you catch your breath, your heart beat speeding up. "There was someone else I was interested in," he almost whispers the next part, his knees slightly grazing yours at how close you are. You pull back slightly. If you are going to go home with this man tonight, and you are praying to God you are, you're going to make him work for it.

"What was wrong with that girl talking to you? She seemed nice," you challenge and you turn your attention back to your now empty glass, swirling around the melting ice cubes. The man calls over the bartender and gets another round for the both of you, making you roll your eyes, smiling to yourself nonetheless. He takes his time before answering, considering his response. "I didn't lie. I don't think I'm the guy she wants," you quirk your eyebrow. "And what is that supposed to mean?" "I don't think she'd be able to handle what I have to give. It's something for a woman, not a girl," he mutters as sips his drink. This almost makes you choke on yours at his words as you take a sip of your own. Heat flushes to your face as your mind momentarily goes blank. He definitely isn't the type to beat around the bush. You decide to test him further. "Oh, and what makes you think you can handle me?"

He laughs out loud at this, something dangerous forming in his eyes when he looks back at you. "Never met a woman I can't, sweet heart," he mumbles as he brings his hand to squeeze your knee, letting it rest there. "Is that a challenge, Mr.?" you question, suddenly realizing you don't know his name. "The name's Elvis, baby. And it is if you want it to be," he breathes, his words going straight to your core. You shift slightly in your seat and a knowing glint forms in his eye. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

After he gets the bill and pays for your tab as well, he leads you out to his car, opening the door for you. You are amazed to see it's a beautiful pink Cadillac. You wonder what this man does for work as he helps you over to it. As you go to get in, you see his eyes glance down your body as he softly bites down on his bottom lip, making your heart flutter and your stomach flip. "Watch your step, honey" he whispers as he grabs onto your waist, your balance slightly failing you. With your body now pressed into his chest, you don't want to pull away, and with the soft sigh that leaves his mouth when you do, it seems he feels the same.

When he gets in the driver's side, he looks over at you. "You sure you wanna do this? A pretty girl like you getting into a strange man's car," he muses with a hint of humor as his eyes rake you over again. "With a car like this, I think I would be okay with you being a crazy person," you throw back, making him laugh for the second time that night. His laugh is like music to your ears. You wonder how it's possible that a man this gorgeous can exist.

As he starts down the road to his place, a tension starts to settle upon the two of you. The same tension that was there at the bar; the one that made you want to rip his close off right there. Neither one of you bothered to turn on the radio, now growing tired of the Christmas music on every station. You allow your eyes to wander to his body as he concentrates on the road. Your eyes travel to his pants and notice a prominent bulge. While he's distracted you carefully trail your left had over to it, giving it a little squeeze. At the surprise of your hand on him, he swerves a little on the road before getting his bearings. "Jesus, baby," he grits out and you see his hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. He tries focusing on the road as you gently palm him through his pants, eliciting soft moans from his lips.

"Don't tease me, woman," he grunts out as his hips buck into your hand, craving more friction. You make a mental note that teasing gets him hot and bothered, and you suddenly pull your hand away, causing him to whine at the loss of contact. He clears his throat to disguise his noise as his jaw set. "Don't play those kinds of games with me," he mutters as he slightly speeds up, needing to get home as fast as possible. "Why, what are you going to do about it, big man," you breathe as you trail your hand over his thigh making his leg jump. "I'll stop this car and fuck you right now if you don't quit," he grunts.

You choose not not heed his call as you let your hand trail back up to were he needs you most, his dick now hard as a rock. You whine teasingly as you gently palm him again. "Such a fuckin' tease," he groans in frustration as he pulls into the nearest empty parking lot. He turns off his car and immediately starts undoing his belt. "Here's what's gonna happen, doll. You're gonna suck me off, then ride me 'til you cum and you're not gonna tease me a God Damn minute in the mean time," he groans as you hear him pull the zipper down on his pants. You clench your thighs together and lick your lips in anticipation. He looks at you expectantly and you only nod, completely lost for words. He smirks to himself at this. "Good, now get your pretty mouth over here," he mumbles.

You lick your lips again as you see his erection poke out from his pants, making you release a small whine as you inch closer. His eyes snap to you as he hears this. He can't help but bite his lip. "Shit, I wanna cum and you're not even doin' nothin' yet," he groans as he pulls the seat back, allowing you to scoot closer. You crawl in between his legs and as you reach his cock, you steady yourself on his thighs before taking as much of him as you can down your throat without warning. He jerks up in surprise at this as a startled moan falls from his lips. "Fuck!" he shouts, looking up at the roof of the car. "What happened to you bein' a tease?" he gasps more to himself. You pull off of him to respond. "Just giving you want you want, Elvis."

You suck him off at a relentless pace, having him moaning and writhing underneath you, his hands falling to your head as he starts gently thrusting into your mouth. "Baby, slow down. I want it last a little longer," he grits out, his orgasm already building. You ignore his request and speed up your actions, bringing your free hand to play with his balls. His gives a surprised gasp as his head falls back. "God Damnit, woman," he grunts as he pulls you off of him. He takes a second to catch his breath and unexpectedly pulls you up to him, crashing his lips into yours. You freeze for a second before kissing him back eagerly. His fingers fumble with the button on your pants as you help him discard them on the floor. You do the same with your panties and finally your shirt and bra. He does the same with his shirt, bringing his hands to your breasts after as he leans forward, capturing your right nipple in his mouth and circles the left with the pad of his thumb. You groan loudly as you throw your head back, your hands tangling in his hair. He travels his lips back up to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth, swirling it gently around yours as he lines himself up at your entrance. He pulls away gently to kiss at your neck, making your eyes flutter.

"Ride me, sweet heart," he pleads, waiting for you. You quickly come back down to Earth as you steady yourself on his chest, slowly sinking down unto him. You suck in a sharp breath as you come down all the way on his cock, his hands coming to rest on your hips. "Hell," he groans as he leans he head back on his seat, pure ecstasy overtaking his features. "Shoulda loosened you up," he groans as he brings his hand to your clit, rubbing in soft circles while staying still, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your forehead falls on his at the pleasure he's giving you, your labored breathing mixing with his. "God, don't stop," you whimper, your eyebrows knitting together. "I won't, baby. Not till you're nice and spent," he whispers back, kissing your cheek.

After touching you for a little while, you ease up on your iron grip enough to raise you hips, before slowly coming back down. You both moan at the motion. You quickly find a rhythm, bouncing on him at a steady pace. "That's it, baby," he encourages as his hands return to your hips, helping you. You let a whine slip from your throat at the sensation of him around you as you bury your face in his neck, nipping and sucking gently. He groans at this as he softly starts thrusting up into you, needing to take control. You don't have it in you anymore to fight him as you let him set the pace. Soft grunts leave him mouth every time he buries himself all the way inside you. "You look so good around my cock, mama," he gasps out, looking in between your bodies. You follow his gaze and see the steady pace of him burying his cock inside you and pulling back just to repeat the action, your pussy taking him so easy, it's like it has countless times before. "Oh God," you groan at the sight, picking up the pace. The sight awakens a second wind in you as you take him harder, softly slamming down into him. He throws his head back once more. "F-Fuck, that's so good baby," he whines as he matches your pace, his thrusts hitting deep inside you.

You start getting weak as you feel your orgasm approaching. "Elvis, oh God," you groan and he steadies you on his hips, understanding. "I want you to cum inside me. I-I'm on the pill," you whimper and he groans, picking up his pace as he kisses your neck, his thumb coming down to your clit. At this, you're coming apart, clenching around him again and again. He releases a string of profanities, releasing himself deep inside you.

You both just sit there for a moment, catching your breath. You lean your head to rest on his chest and feel his heart beating rapidly at the exertion, his chest heaving. "Damn," is all he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Me too," you breathe, causing a smile to play on his lips. You look around and the glass on his doors are completely fogged, making you smile to yourself as you kiss his chest. "Uh, do you want to me take you home, baby?" he asks, hesitation in his voice. You pause as you think of your response. "You don't want me to come over to your's, do you? It would be nice to spend Christmas with someone," you admit, hope in your voice. He smiles again as he kisses your forehead. "I'd love that, sweet one. Oh look, it's midnight. Merry Christmas baby," he mumbles. He helps clean you up before starting down the street to his place.

Masterlist

Tag List: @horrorgirl4life @father-of-2cats @flowersofcement @goldobsessionsworld @dark-raven031 @peaceloveelvis @tantamount-treason @looloolily

[jasonpeterdrake]

heyy, if you like making playlists and wolfstar, do you mind making one thats kinda sad and generally about like, sirius going to azkaban, remus thinking sirius betrayed them but still loving him, sirius thinking how could he have suspected remus-the-love-of-his-life, and like, war and heartbreak etc. you know? I tried to describe the vibe I mean

I actually have one already that kinda fits that! I made it back in 2021 and I still listen to it! It's sort of... Remus sad and alone and listening to music as he gets drunker and sadder in the 80s.

I'll throw a breakdown under the cut.

All I Need - My Bloody Valentine (1988): Sexually angsty noise. Remus wants to sit and drink and be left alone.

I Wanna Be Adored - The Stone Roses (1989): Here Remus wonders if he overlooked who Sirius really was just because he wanted his love.

One Hundred Years - The Cure (1982):

Please love me, meet my mother But the fear takes hold Creeping up the stairs in the dark Waiting for the death blow

I mean come on.

4. Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division (1980): Remus likes Joy Division and I stand by that. Also you can't legally have a sad 80s playlist without them??

5. Wave of Mutilation - The Pixies (1989): Here Remus has another shot and thinks about the push and pull of the moon being his own wave of mutilation because he's a sad boy like that.

6. Ceremony - New Order (1981): I just really like this song and the vibes fit the playlist.

7. The Ghost in You - The Psychedelic Furs (1984): Remus continues to drink and he's just thinking about time passing and their school days and what it says about him that he still fucking loves Sirius

8. How Soon is Now? - The Smiths (1985): "I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does." Uuuugh fuck Morrissey but this song is very Moony to me.

9. Darklands - The Jesus and Mary Chain (1987):

As sure as life means nothing And all things end in nothing And heaven, I think Is too close to hell

He's just a very sad emo boy, and also he's pretty drunk at this point and the "do do do"s are nice for singing along to.

10. Eyes Without a Face - Billy Idol (1983):

I spend so much time Believing all the lies To keep the dream alive Now it makes me sad It makes me mad at truth For loving what was you

Bruh.

11. Five Years - David Bowie (1972): Okay but now that he's good and drunk, he's dipping back into the 70s. And they really didn't have much time together, did they?

12. Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd (1975): Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in cage, Pads? And also I can see this being a song Sirius would play on his guitar sometimes.

13. Love in Vain - The Rolling Stones (1969): Here Remus is hanging off his couch smoking upside down. (Also this song kinda segues musically into the fact that I wanted some Nick Drake on here. My playlists are meant to flow.)

14. Place to Be - Nick Drake (1972):

When I was young, younger than before I never saw the truth hanging from the door And now I'm older, see it face to face

and also

Now I'm weaker than the palest blue Oh so weak in this need for you

15. Pale Blue Eyes - The Velvet Underground (1969): Another shot, and lingering on pale blue eyes.

16. Run of the Mill - Judas Priest (1974): Now Remus is starting to get mad and out come the metal bands.

17. Wheels of Confusion - Black Sabbath (1972):

Long ago I wandered through my mind In the land of fairy tales and stories Lost in happiness I knew no fears Innocence and love was all I knew It was an illusion

18. Tangerine - Led Zeppelin (1970): Oh fuck, he's listening to Zep.

19. Black Dog - Led Zeppelin (1971): Yep there it is.

20. Something I Can Never Have - Nine Inch Nails (1989): And we're back to the 80s because listening to that song made him snap. I think after this though he just passes the fuck out.

[dilucsflame33]

Can You Do A Vampire Donnie x F!Reader But In Bayverse And With Prompts And Can You Do A Lemon/Smut For It Too

58. Turtle bedroom 132. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” 74. “Just relax.” 5. “MINE.” 96. Making out 151. “Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?” 89. Mating season 142. “Bite me.” 123. “Don’t hold back.” 79. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” also with 32. “Do you trust me?” and Turning into a vampire

Blood Moon Odyssey 🔥

Hello, @ashleighclark98 ^^ Thank you so much for being my first ask, and you are the first who have ordered from my "TMNT Trick or Kink: Bloody Mary"! I hope this is to your liking. ;)

I end up changing the sentence on 132, so I hope it's okay! ^^

🔞 Warning 🔞 NFSW 18+ Only

Blood, mating/breeding, hair pulling, and feral Donnie.

Running was all Donnie could do; jumping from building to building as he continuously ran for his life. It was the first Lunar eclipse of the year, which happens three times a year. But why was this one non-stop? And why does it look a deeper shade of red? It was supposed to last only for an hour and twenty-five minutes on the dot! 

Donnie was on patrol like usual. Leo separated them so they could have more eyes in the area. Three days ago, people went missing anonymously. All that was left was witnesses heard screams in abandoned alleyways and seen blood red eyes staring at them. Fangs glisten under the blood moon. Soon after, that person took the victims away. 

Chief Vincent asked the guys if they could help with the case and they agreed. 

But Donnie thought it was some man dressed up as some vampire to scare the witnesses away. 

Donnie was dead wrong for once. 

He was standing on top of an abandoned building, a place where there's hardly any activity. The purple turtle found it strange when a "vampire" goes to places that have less of a food source, until he went deep into his thoughts.

"We are close to the outskirts of New York, no human activity. If I was a vampire, what would I do?" Donnie said aloud, mostly to himself. But he didn't expect someone to answer back.

"Looks like you have found my nest, young one." A deep, guttural voice spoke into his ear and the nerd screeched. Donnie quickly stood a few feet from him, with staff in hand, ready to take on the master mind. "In all my years, I have never encountered such a creature. What's your name?" 

"Like I will tell you." Donnie says as he goes into his battle stance. "And how did you get here so fast?"

The man chuckled, his blonde hair blew in the wind. And that's when Donnie saw them, the fangs. "I think you already knew how I got here, but that's not important now is it?"

Donnie stared him down, hazel eyes burned with determination as his heart slowly picked up its pace. The man in front of him smirked as he crossed his arms, almost aristocratic. "The name is William. Even if you look through the files at NYPD, you won't be able to find my identity. Sadly, the case will come to a close.

"You know," William continued. "You have a beautiful woman by your side, Donatello. It breaks my heart knowing she will never know your true feelings."

Donnie went pale and his heart rate went up tenfold. How does he know about Y/N? He just met the guy and William knew about the woman who has been haunting his mind and dreams. 

William suddenly chuckled deeply, almost sinister as he went into a full blown laughter. "Oh, how I love the look on your face. The fear behind your eyes." Then, his red eyes gleamed. "You will be a perfect fit for my army." 

Army?! 

Oh, heck no!

Splinter taught him to never run from a fight but with actual humans and mutants, not immortal vampires! So Donnie ran and the last thing he heard was terrifying laughter that pierced his soul as it would soon haunt his dreams.

Donnie jumped once more as he hid behind a dark wall, breathing erratically as he tried catching his breath. He's been running for God knows how long. Like it's a never ending chase. Wherever he lands, William was there. Donnie doesn't know if he was playing mind tricks on him. If William can read his mind, what else could he do?

Donnie pressed the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. "Leo? Are you there?"

"Donnie? What's going on?" Leo's voice was heard through the speaker as the leader heard his brother's erratic breathing. Something was wrong.

"I-I found the guy, Leo! William was his name. You positioned me on top of his nest and now he wants to recruit me in his undead army!" Donnie's voice screeched once more as he suddenly felt tears coming to his eyes. He hates crying, but his fear was taking control over him. He needs to keep it together. He has unfinished business. "Leo, I'm scared. He knows about Y/N and I haven't mentioned anything about her. Please, brother, I need you."

"Okay, Don, just hang in there. We're on our way!" Leo's voice turned more serious as he heard Donnie say 'brother'. He only says it when he's absolutely terrified. 

"Yeah, he'll get a rude awakenin' when he messes with us." Raph's voice transferred to the speaker. Donnie pressed the button on the walkie-talkie to answer. 

"I would love to see you try, Raphael." 

Donnie spun around and there was William. The turtle didn't have enough time to react as the vampire came in front of him and sank his teeth into his neck. 

Donnie's screams uttered through the speaker as William makes sure his brothers can hear what he's doing to their brother. 

With enough strength he had left, Donnie pushed William away and he felt suddenly hot. His neck was burning and he clutched at his neck to try to stop the blood from flowing. 

Donnie could hear his brothers screaming for him but his vision was suddenly blurry as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, soon collapsing on the concrete floor. 

William chuckled as he saw Donatello's unconscious state. "Enjoy your new life, Donatello. Let your emotions run wild." 

Thirty minutes had passed and Y/N was running to the sewers. Leo called her, saying Donnie was attacked and needed some medical assistance. He needs to get back out there to find a guy named "William" that hurt his brother in the first place.

"Hang on, Leo. I'm on my way!" Y/N said through the phone as she picked up her pace. 

When she entered the lair, the turtles were a nervous wreck. Mikey was on the floor, staring at the lab/Donnie's bedroom. Raph was pacing back and forth, angry that he wasn't there to protect his brother. Leo was nowhere to be found, probably in the lab where Donnie was located. 

Y/N headed towards the lab and opened the doors. The sight she saw broke her heart. Splinter and Leo sat in chairs as they kept an eye on Donnie. The purple clad turtle was on a lab table, eyes closed, and completely pale as the woman noticed bandages on his neck. 

Leo looked up and sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. Donnie lost a lot of blood and we don't know how to do a transfer.

"Leave that to me." Y/N said as she went to wash her hands in the sink and soon put on some medical gloves. "Good thing I have a degree in nursing. Otherwise, we're all screwed." 

"Thank you, Y/N. I am thankful to have you here." Splinter says as he watches the young woman get to work. Y/N walked towards Donnie and she slowly removed the bandage, wincing as she looked at the damage. 

"Whoever this 'William' was, he knew what he was doing. He got the Carotid artery. It's the main artery that transfers blood to the brain. If punctured, you need to add pressure immediately. Otherwise, the patient will pass out due to lack of blood in the brain."

"We found him before we called you, so he's passed out for at least thirty minutes." Leo explained as Y/N looked through the cabinets. 

"Okay, yeah. He needs blood quickly. That wound is deep, even as a mutant it will take its toll. Knowing Donnie, he probably hasn't eaten or drunk any water. So his sugar has dropped and his blood is too thick. Before you give blood, you need to eat at least thirty minutes or more and drink plenty of water. If not, then you will pass out. Iron is the key, plenty of protein."

Even though Leo and Splinter had no idea what she said, all they heard was protein. "So he needs blood that has protein?"

"Yes. The protein can either be from meat or from protein bars." Y/N set up an IV to keep Donnie's body hydrated. "If any of you have a good protein diet and drink plenty of water, that will be great." 

Leo sighed. "Guess I'm up-"

"Let me do it." Raph came in as he heard the conversation. "I have a good diet. May not look like it but looks can be deceiving."

Y/N looked towards Raph. "You do realize how much blood you're gonna give, right? Just calculating the time it happened and when I got here, plus his height and weight, he needed at least two human bags of blood or more. You won't be able to go with Leo or Mikey out there if you do this." 

Raph clenched his fist. "I'll do whatever it takes to save my brother. I couldn't save him then, but I can now. Give me something for adrenaline. Hook me up." He huffed.

"Yes, sir." Y/N winced but got to work once again and grabbed the supplies she needed. Sometimes she has to remember she's working on mutants and not actual humans.

Hopefully Raphael will be okay.

"Leo, grab your brother a jug of water and some protein bars. He needs them."

"On it." Leo quickly ran out of the lab and started to retrieve the items the woman requested. Usually it was Leo taking charge but if it's anything medical, he's done for. He doesn't mind letting someone take the reins just this once.

He just hopes that Donnie will be okay.

After hooking Donnie up to an IV and starting a blood transfusion, everything was now a waiting game. After Raph gave blood he felt fine, then soon joined Leo and Mikey to find the guy who hurt Donnie. Much to Y/N's request, she prefers Raph to stay but the hothead was too stubborn to listen. 

Hopefully things will turn out alright in the end.

An hour has passed and - out of the corner of her eye - Donnie's hand started to twitch. She looked up as soon his eyes slowly opened. He groaned as he clutched his head. "Where am I?"

"You're in the lab, sweetie." The woman replied as she checked his vitals. "You've lost a lot of blood, Donnie. Did you drink water? Eat anything?" 

Donnie winced, knowing that he would get the lecture of his life. "N-No."

Y/N hummed, not too pleased with the answer. "Considering you're the medic of the team, you would have thought that you know how to take care of yourself." 

Donnie went to speak but he clutched at his throat, a burning sensation that soon turned painful as he started coughing. 

Y/N grabbed a bottle of water that was on the counter. "Lay back and let me take care of you." But Donnie wouldn't take it. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. Her gasp echoed in the lab as her body laid on top of his. "Donnie?"

"Just relax," Donnie whispered in her ear, his breath sent shivers down her spine. "Do you trust me?" 

Y/N's heart picked up pace. They both shared some playful gestures and flirting, but he would never pull something like this. Yet Donnie would never hurt her; always gentle and kind. His hazel eyes are the reason she kept going. 

"Yes." She whispered as they stared at each other and soon Donnie kissed her passionately. His kiss sent chills as he completely devoured her lips, almost animalistic. He separated from the kiss and he trailed his lips to her neck. Her legs trembled as he took a whiff of her scent. 

"Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?" Donnie smirked as he looked into her eyes. They are no longer hazel, but blood red. Y/N quickly got off his lap and had her back against the wall. "What's wrong, little one?"

"Your eyes," she paused. "They're not hazel." Y/N says as Donnie's eyes widen. He quickly got off the lab table and looked into the mirror; just like she said, his eyes are no longer hazel. Donnie took off the bandage and the wound was completely gone. 

Completely healed.

"Y/N, you need to run. If you stay here any longer, I will do something that both of us will regret." Donnie says as he clutches at his head. It's like his head was being split open. "I can feel my animal instincts trying to take control. You need to leave. If not, then I will end up biting you. Or worse."

Y/N watched Donnie as he tried to take control of his body, but she knew that won't last forever. She has gotten this far with him and she's not leaving, even if he does things to her body. She wants him just as much.

"Bite me." Donnie looked at her with horror. "I have gotten this far, Donnie. I'm not leaving, even if you push me away. You like me, don't you?" 

With the way Donnie bit his lip and averted his eyes, away from her, she knew her assumptions were right. "Then I have nothing to fear. Do whatever you may. We'll get through this together."

The purple clad turtle's heart melted. She's staying, even if he warned her. He just fell for her even more at this moment.

"But I do want you to catch me." Y/N smirked as Donnie shook his head, chuckling as he did so. The woman knew she wouldn't last long with the chase but the thrill and adrenaline that goes with it. . .

It's so exhilarating.

"You think you can run away from me?" Donnie's voice went down an octave and Y/N felt her core clench with anticipation. "Go on, let's see how long you can last."

Donnie lunged for her but she dodged him as she quickly bolted from the lab and headed towards the tunnels. Her heavy breathing and the sound of her shoes hitting the concrete floor was the only sound that echoed throughout the darkened walls. With every step she takes, it's like she could see his shadow following her. His red eyes trailed in any direction she went. 

Y/N was scared but also excited. 

"Run all you want," Donnie's voice echoed through the tunnels. "We both know you belong to me."

Y/N bit her lip with anticipation. Donnie has an advantage in this game. Not only could he smell her, but also could hear her heartbeat. He will find her in minutes. If not, then in seconds.

Y/N found a crack in the wall that was big enough for her squeeze through. Before she could, a hand grasped her shoulders and she let out a scream but silenced when Donnie's lips were placed upon hers. 

Her arms were around his neck as she clutched to him, letting the man above her take control. Oh, how he has her legs trembling.

He pulled away from her then, but chuckled when the woman tried to pull him back in for more passionate kisses. "My bedroom. Now."

That was the only order she got before he hoisted her over his shoulder and took her back towards the lair. It's almost like he teleported. One minute she was in the tunnels and now she was on his bed; her clothes were ripped to shreds as his lips attacked her neck, moans of pleasure filled his room.

"Don't hold back, Donatello!" 

The said turtle growled as he flipped the woman on her stomach, then hoisted her up. Butt in the air as her face buried in his sheets. Completely naked and ready for him to take what's his. He quickly took off his shoes and pants, the turtle now naked. Y/N heard his clothes being discarded. Oh, how the woman beneath him wished she could see him in all of his glory.

"Mine!" He growled once again as he pulled her hair back. Her whimper was the only thing he heard before he plunged inside of her, her wails echoing within his room as he showed no mercy. 

Skin collided with skin as their moans and groans of pleasure drove them both to the oasis of ecstasy. The noises coming from the woman would make anyone blush. If the others showed up, they wouldn't probably be worried. All Y/N and Donnie want was to stay in the warmth of each other and this bed together.

Donnie leaned down and licked her shoulder. "Tell me who you belong to." It was a command, and it was so hard to form sentences when his cock was literally hitting every single spot within her insides. 

"Y-You!" Was all she could muster before she felt fangs pierced into her skin. Her screams erupted from her throat as she came hard, squeezing his cock with it. 

Donnie hugged her waist as he came deep within her womb, making sure all of his essence stayed inside of her as he drank from her neck. After their climax was done he pulled away from her, licking her neck clean as he watched it sealed off. 

Donnie looked down at the woman below him as he came to, realizing what he had done. "Y-Y/N? A-Are you-?" Before he could finish, he was flipped over onto the bed with a screech and his eyes went wide when he saw his beloved's orbs. No longer the beautiful color he onced knew but now a deep shade of red. "Y-Y-Y/N?" 

Y/N chuckled devilishly, her tongue slowly running across her lips. "We're not done, Donnie baby. You started this and I'm gonna finish it myself." With that, she slammed herself onto his cock as his screams of pleasure erupted from within him.

It's going to be a long night. 

Tags:

@turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82

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[mysticalrambling]

Missing You (T.H)

Tom Holland Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Tom is away for shooting and he is missing his daughter’s first easter. You and Sophia miss him terribly and he feels terrible for missing it. Sophia gets hurt during the egg hunt and Tom flies back to be with his family.

Warnings: Angst and some fluff.

._._._._.

“Daddy?” You had been folding your laundry because it was a therapeutic chore. The maid always left it for you by the end of the day because she knew that you enjoyed doing it. Your moment was interrupted by your one year old daughter barging into your room with only one question on her mind.

She had recently started walking and you were silently thankful because your over protective husband wouldn’t let her touch the ground in the fear that she would hurt herself. It even came to the point that Sophia started becoming agitated whenever he interrupted her progress. She would scream Bloody Mary when she saw him approaching with his arms outstretched. You sat him down one day and gently explained to him that we have to let her explore the world. If she falls and gets hurt, then it was our job to take care of her but we could not protect her from everything in advance.

The moment she took her first steps, they were towards Tom. You were there to record the moment and you guys were so glad that Tom had backed off a little bit. He would be there for his little princess every step of the way. If she wanted to leap, she could and he will be there to catch her if she started to fall. Sophia was the most important person in his life after you.

“Daddy is going to be here before your first Easter, bunny. Hopefully.” The last word was more of a mumble for yourself because you really hoped that he would be here. Sophia was born a few weeks after Easter so this was her first one.

“Daddy?”

Sighing, you said, “Let’s just get ready and see how cute you look in your new costume.”

“Bunny!” She ran off to her room to put her name on the and you opened your phone. Your husband told you that he would drop a text at approximately this time if he was going to make it back before the party. Disappointed, you just put the phone back on the side table.

“Okay, you need to sit tightly so that I can make your braids.” She was a hyper ball after she found the candies on the coffee table that you were going to give it to her at the party. Allergies to nuts was one of the many things that she had inherited from Tom and you never liked to take chances regarding their health. “No more sweets for you today, miss.”

“Nooooooo. Daddy!” Sophia’s voice trembled in the end because she knew that her dad would defend her. He was her knight in shining armor.

“Daddy is not here so let’s stop screaming now.” You were already in a sour mood as your husband was not with you on an important milestone. And Sophia was not making things easy for you either.

“No!”

“You are ready. I am going to give you your coloring books while I go get ready.” You did not listen to her small sniffles and went to take a shower while keeping the door open so you could keep an eye on her. When you got out, your phone was ringing and it was Tom.

“Hi. I am so sorry I can’t make it today. I tried my very best to get done with filming but it was not possible. So sorry, darling.” There was a crack in his voice that let you know that he was devastated about it.

“It’s okay, baby. There will be other Easters and you will be there for all of them. Don’t be sad, please.” You  tried cheering him up but it was not working.

Tom was always big on firsts; your first date, your first I love you’s, Sophia’s first kick, Sophia’s first tooth. He kept a record of all the moments and he was incredibly sad that he did not get to witness his child’s first Easter. Acting was something that he really enjoyed but he hated it right now. It was keeping him away from his family. He had planned everything out from where to hide all the eggs to where to buy the small bunny cupcakes that he would give to his little girl at the end of the day. This was not right but he was helpless. He could not do anything because he had an obligation to his fans as well.

“Is she wearing the costume that I ordered her?” When you mumbled out a yes, he asked, “Can you please send me a picture?”

“Soph, come and stand here. Pose for daddy.” When you sent him the picture, there was no response from his side. Seeing the picture, Tom choked back a sob. His little bunny looked incredibly cute with a white dress and a bunny ear headband. A pink tint graced her cheeks which meant that she had some candies and she had a toothy smile. Before he could say anything, the director called him back to shooting. “We will talk to daddy later. He might be busy right now.”

Tom’s mom had planned a party at her house and the whole garden was prepared for the egg hunt. You both wanted to host the party this year but Tom had to go to Cardiff last minute because of his shooting. Your siblings and nieces and nephews were all going to be there. You were happy that you got to spend this occasion with your family but you were miserable right now. Tom was not here.

“Hi. Who is this little rabbit here?” Nikki leaned in front of the toddler and squished Sophia in one of her famous bear hugs.

“Sophia Anne Holland!” There was a proud undertone to her voice because she could speak her whole name now.

“You are the cutest bunny ever.”

“I know.” You all chuckled at her haughty admission and watched as she skipped towards her cousins.

“Tom isn’t going to make it today?”

“Um no. He could not get away from work and he said to apologise on his behalf.” It was like something was missing and you didn’t want to indulge in that feeling.

“I am sorry, darling but he will make it up to you and Sophie.” You wanted to divert the topic so you started to talk about the guests and the decorations.

Pretty soon, you started mingling with the people and they always asked about Tom. You either replied to them or politely redirected the conversation. It felt weird being at a gathering without Tom. You haven’t done that from the past five years and you realised you didn’t much enjoy it now. Keeping an eye on Sophia was hard because it was usually Tom who performed that duty. You were given a free pass at parties from all the responsibilities and were allowed to enjoy every moment. He was always considerate towards you and that is why you loved him to death.

“Sophia, you can not go near the pool.” You caught her in your arms before she could fall in.

“Dada swimm- swimming.” Tommy was the one who was teaching her to swim because it was a hobby that he wanted his daughter to adopt from him. When she saw the water, she thought that her dad will be there to teach her.

“When dad comes back, you can go swimming.” Sophia still kept looking around for her father because this is the longest she has been away from him. Her toddler mind thinks that if she goes to do things that they do together, he will come to her. You couldn’t even get angry at her for wandering around the house without anyone. Hugging her, you tried to distract her, “Now, granny is having an egg hunt and we need to win it, okay bubs?”

“Win!!” You took her in your arms and went towards the garden where all the people were.

“Look, Tom. (Y/N) is here.” A phone was shoved in to your face by Sam and you saw Tom’s face on the screen.

“Hi. I was calling you and you didn’t pick up. I wanted to see Sophie on the egg hunt.” There was a look of longing on his face.

“I was busy with your daughter. She was running near the swimming pool and wanted to get in because she thought that you would be there to teach her.”

“Is she alright? Let me see her.” You angled the phone towards your shoulder where she was leaning on him. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi. Back?” Tom wanted nothing more than to hold his daughter in his arms and his heart broke when his daughter asked him that question. It meant that he was away too long because she never asked that question before. She didn’t need to.

“I’ll be back in no time and then we will go swimming. Promise.”

“Yes.” She hopped down from your arms and went to the start line of the race.

“How have you been?”

“Just missing you a lot and handling Soph is getting harder by the day.” You moved to a more secluded place on the ground so you could talk to your husband.

“I am sorry, darling. When I come back, you can have the whole weekend off.”

“Just come back. I want to spend sometime with my husband.”

“That is a tempting offer but I have to stay here a little longer. But when I come back, we will do more than spend sometime together.”

“I will look forward to it. The game is starting so I have to go.” You were about to end the call but he stopped you.

“I want to see her and I have a break for another twenty minutes.”

“Okay.”

The race soon started and among all her cousins, Sophia was the youngest and the most hyper. You cheered her on with her grandparents and Tom. She was about to win the race and you were more excited than her. Tommy wanted to be there to witness her first victory but he settled down for seeing it on the phone. However, she stumbled on some rocks that were on the trail and she fell hard.

“Oh my god! Go to her, (Y/N).” Tom’s voice broke you out of your horrified trance and you went in to autopilot. When you reached near her, you gave the phone to someone behind you and kneeled in front of your daughter. She was crying really loudly and her arms was bent to an odd angle. Cuddling her in your arms, you picked her up and went towards your car. “What is happening? Mum, tell me!”

“I think Sophie’s arm is broken. (Y/N) is taking her to the hospital right now. I will keep you updated.” Nikki was moving quickly towards her car while she gripped the phone in her hands.

“Mum, I want to talk to my daughter right now.” He didn’t even realise that he was pacing and his hair was all messed up because he ran his hands through it several times.

“Tommy, I will keep you updated. Right now, she is a lot of pain and she is scared.”

“Please keep me informed.” This was one of the worst moment in his life because he wasn’t there for his girls. You both needed him right now and he wasn’t there. He decided then and there that he was going back to London.

Meanwhile, you reached the hospital with Sophia wailing in your arms and Sam driving like a cray man. You were sure that he would have multiple speeding tickets waiting for him when he gets home. The E.R was busy at this time of the day and you just laid your daughter on one of the beds while Nikki went to go get a doctor.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. Please be strong, baby girl.” There were tears in your eyes as your daughter’s face turned red with all the crying and screaming. The little girl was in too much pain.

“Daddy, plea- please. Hurts a lot.” Hiccuping in the middle of the sentence, you looked at your brother in law helplessly. She wanted Tom and he wasn’t here right now.

“We will talk to daddy after the nice doctor here checks you out, baby.” She wouldn’t let anyone near her or her arm and kept asking for her father, She was inconsolable.

Sitting in front of the bed, the doctor asked, “Hi, I am Dr Ana. What happened to this little bunny here?”

“She, uh, she fell during the race and I think she broke her arm.” You stood on the foot of the bed as you shakily explained the whole situation. “Soph, let her check your boo boo please.”

“Daddy, please.”

“Okay, let me call your dad and you can talk to him.” Nikki interjected when she saw that the conversation was not reaching any end point.

“Okay.” You wiped her snot with your sleeves as she clutched her broken arm in pain.

“Tom, talk to Sophia. She is not letting the doctors treat her.” Putting the phone on speaker, Tom’s voice filtered through the phone.

“Hey bubs. You need to let the doctor check you and make the boo boo alright.” His soothing voice brought tears to your eyes as you wanted nothing more than to hold his hand right now.

“It hurts. Back please?”

“I am coming back right now so you need to let the doctor check your arm. I will be there in no time.”

“Okay.” The moment the doctor started examining her arm, you took the phone from your mother in law.

“It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to come back.” You sniffled a little as the doctor got a portable x-ray to check up on Sophia’s arm. She held on to your hand tightly as even the little movement hurt her.

“I am. In fact, my flight is already confirmed. I will be there in four hours, tops.”

Tom declined the call as his manager called him downstairs. Getting in to the car, he just prayed to God that his little girl would be okay. He swore mentally that he would never let Sophia run. He should have been there and he was going to never leave his family’s side ever again.

“I have given her some pain meds for her pain so she should be settling down now.” Sophia was moved to a pediatric room and now she was calming down a little bit. “What color cast do you want, Miss Holland?”

“Pink.” She stated as a matter of fact and you lightly laughed. Nikki and Sam were in the room as well and they were staying till Tom got here. The pain medication slowly started working and Soph drifted off to sleep with Mr Fluffs in her arms.

“We are going to get coffee and then we can get you a change of clothes. Do you want something else?” Whispering, Nikki placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I am fine. I just need the clothes and can you please bring some for Tom as well. I know he would come straight here from the airport.”

“Okay, darling. Take care and call us if something happens.”

“Okay, thank you.” You put your head on the bed and drifted off to sleep.

Tom entered the hospital and the receptionist guided him towards Sophia’s room. Quietly steeping in there, he saw his two girls sleeping. Sophia looked so tiny in that patient bed and he never wanted to see her there. When he got close, he saw dried tears on his little girl’s cheek and his heart broke when he thought about the pain that she was in. The pink cast was set on her right arm and he want to her side and gently kissed it.

“I am so sorry baby, I wasn’t here. I won’t ever leave you again, I promise.”

“You are back.” The commotion in the room woke you up and you saw your husband right in front of you.

“Just got in.” Tom’s eyes never left the tiny human being laying underneath the sheets. “(Y/N), she is never running again.”

“Honey, children get hurt all the time. She will recover in no time.”

“But-”

“Dadda!” Your baby jumped in to his arms before any of you realised what was happening. Her cast bumped on to the iron rod of the bed and she let out a blood curling scream.

“Call the doctor. It’s okay, bubs. You are going to be okay.” Kissing her cast, he tried to calm down the crying toddler. Meantime, you went to call Dr Anna so that she could check Sophia’s arm.

“It is all fine. You just need to be really careful with that arm. We are going to keep her here for one day and then you both can take your little girl home.”

You took Sophia from your husband and told him to go change in to comfortable clothes. When he came back, you both settled on the small bed and your daughter told him all about the injury and the pain. You both signed her pink cast and Tom also drew some rainbows and birds on it. Soon, it was time for her to take her medicines and you had to bribe her with chocolates, She always got her way.

“I love you, baby. Go to sleep now.” He wrapped the blanket around her and switched off all the lights.

“Love you. Be here?”

“Yes, I will be here darling. Now, sleep.” Sophia soon drifted off to sleep and Tom sat beside you on the couch.

“I missed you, Tommy.”

“I missed you too and I am never leaving you both for this long. Now, let’s go to sleep. It has been a tiring day.” Pecking him on the lips, you both laid down and just basked in each other’s warmth. Contented, you drifted off to sleep with your husband and child in the same room. Everything was going to be okay.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

A/N: I loved to write about Tom Holland as a family man. Tell me how you guys feel about it and I am open to requests regarding dad Tom. If you want to be added to my tag list, comment down below.

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! reading your blog has become a sort of guilty pleasure for me. Thanks for everything, it’s so clear that you put a lot of time and energy into your content. I was wondering if you have any johnlock fics that feature a particularly well-written or memorable original character? I always love to see how authors integrate their own character creations into johnlock stories!

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhh!! This is a GREAT request, because I like well-written OC’s in fics, so yeah, this is a great list to make. Here’s what I recall from my bookmarks. Please add your own faves, friends!

MEMORABLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

The Prize We Sought Is Won by deathfrisbees (E, 4,610 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Mild D/S, Oral, Military Kink, Bottomlock) – Sherlock's in love, or in lust, or both--unfortunately, the object of his affections is not only his completely oblivious flatmate, but said flatmate would probably run screaming into the hills should he find out. John's been invited to a wedding--unfortunately, the groom used to serve under him back in Afghanistan, and requests that John wear a uniform he's honestly not sure he fits into. Unfortunately for both flatmates, Sherlock's got a military kink the size of Kandahar and John wants to know if he actually can fit into this uniform or if his eyes are deceiving him. It goes from there.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Dating, Bisexuality, Arguing, Stupidity, Teasing, First Kiss/Time, Hand Jobs, Frottage, RST, Idiots in Love) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock's, and Sherlock can't figure out why he's so incensed about it.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Vessel by Rhuia (E, 15,695 w., 1 Ch. || Cancer, Medfic) – That was the surprising bit – the way his doctor said it, eyes shining with sympathy but breathing it out, shifting it off her shoulders and thrusting it onto his, making him take it like an unwanted gift.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst, Promise of Forever) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst (E, 58,611 w., 10 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Experiments / Sexual Experimentations, Multi Pairings, Voyeurism) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad Series by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers' attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We're all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own. (SC’s version of Sherrinford may as well be an OC; he’s well written and different from Canon)

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w., 83 Ch. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl -- but cannot be ignored. Oh, and...porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

It’s Always Been You ~ 142

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,590ish

Summary: Y/N tells Tony who her choice has always been. The team starts to learn more about the Stones.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (None of the gifs are mine.)

Previous on Out Of Time…

“Tony…” She tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed onto her arms, keeping her facing him.

“No, you don’t get to run away right now. I need an answer. If we’re going to do this, bring everyone back. I need to know the truth, once and for all. That I wasn’t the second choice, that I wasn’t just the only option so you went for it… So, tell me, would you have chosen me if Barnes was still here?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Stark,” Y/N practically growled, trying to hold back her anger as she pulled away from him. “You think that I would marry you if I didn’t absolutely love you? That I would do that if I wasn’t choosing you? It’s always been you!! Ever since the first day we met, I just didn’t want to admit it. Too scared that this would all go wrong somehow and I would lose you forever. That day Strange showed up to get us, do you remember how I kept trying to tell you something and you kept going on about that dream you had about Morgan?”

“Yes,” Tony mumbled, trying not to make Y/N freak more than she was. He was also feeling guilty about ever doubting her, he knew better than that.

“I was trying to tell you that I had chosen you! I had made my choice that day and I was coming to tell you that you were it for me! But then… then everything happened… And people vanished… I searched Titan a thousand times over for you. Hoping and praying that the ashes that keep breezing past me, weren’t you. And when you came back alive, no one else mattered. Because I had you still, and I knew that we’d be okay. No matter what… And the fact that, after all this time, you’re doubting me… that hurts.” Tears were threatening to spill from Y/N’s eyes.

“Y/N, honey,” Tony went to hold her, but she stepped away.

“How could you doubt me? After all this time? I know that I probably confused you, but did I ever give you doubt in the last five years that I wasn’t completely devoted to you? To the family that we built?”

“You have to see it my way, Y/N. I thought that we were good back then too. And then Bucky came back into the picture, more than once.”

“And yet I still came back to you. After everything, I always found my way back to you… I love you, Tony. It’s always been you.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Tony slowly reached for Y/N’s hands. He was scared that she’d pull away again as he was so desperate to feel her in his arms. “I should have never doubted you.” She flinched slightly as his hands took hers, but didn’t pull away. “It’s always been you for me too.” He slowly moved closer to her. “I’m sorry I just…” He sighed. “It’s always been nagging at me. I needed to know.”

“I know… And I’m sorry I didn’t clear it up sooner.” She curled herself into his chest. “I’m terrified, Tony.”

Tony held her to his chest and held a kiss to her head. “Me too.”

“I can’t lose anyone else… especially not you or Morgan.”

“We aren’t going to lose each other or Morgan… we’re going to make it through this.” He looked down and brushed his fingers down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She pulled him down for a kiss. “I’m still mad at you for doubting me.”

“I have a feeling that you’ll get back at me for it in a subtle way later.”

“Not gonna be that subtle.”

~~~

“And then Happy bought me two cheeseburgers!” Morgan exclaimed through the phone’s screen.

“Two?!” Y/N gasped, faking excitement for Morgan. 

“And I ate them both!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s crazy!”

“Just like your old man, Mo,” Tony said, making his appearance next to Y/N. 

“Tomorrow, Aunt Pepper said that we could rake the leaves and jump in them!”

“That sounds so much fun Morgan,” Y/N responded, trying to hide the shakiness of her voice. Tony, having his arm wrapped around her waist, gave her a light squeeze in understanding. “Momma misses you, Mo.”

“I miss you too. When are you coming home?”

Y/N took in a harsh breath, unable to answer. “We aren’t sure, sweetheart,” Tony responded. “But it won’t be too long. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“It’s past your bedtime, now. Good night, we love you.”

“I love you both 3000!” Then the girl hung up.

Y/N broke down into tears in Tony’s arms. She wanted to be back with Morgan. She didn’t want what she knew was coming to come. But she knew it had to. And that this was the only way for Morgan to be safe. Tony held Y/N close, whispering that it will all be okay as he periodically kissed her head. It was killing him to see her like this. He couldn’t wait for this to all be over and for them to all go home.

~~~

The next morning, they all gathered in a conference room to discuss the Stones. Y/N knew it was going to be an unpleasant day for her, since most of them knew she was tied to them. Tony, Steve, and Bruce paced in the front, while everyone else sat around the room.

“Okay, so the how works,” Steve began. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where. Almost all of us has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Well I'd substitute the word encounter for damn well near been killed by one of the six Infinity Stones,” Tony said. “Or is connected with them.” Y/N shrunk slightly in her seat as people glanced her way.

“I haven’t,” Scott cut in. “I don't even know what the hell you're all talking about.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round trip each,” Bruce stated. “And these Stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history,” Tony corrected. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in.”

“Which means we have to pick our targets,” Clint said.

“Correct.”

“Let’s start with the Aether,” Steve suggested. “Thor, what do you know?”

Everyone turned to look back at Thor. He was sitting on a chair, beer in hand and sunglasses on. Asleep. Y/N sighed, knowing that this probably was all going to do nothing to help Thor’s mental health.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha questioned.

“No,” Rhodey responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

Y/N gently woke Thor up and he stumbled to stand in front of everyone. Bruce put all the known information on the Reality Stone up on the screens.

“Where to start?” Thor asked himself, clearly still out of it. “Umm... The Aether, first, is not a stone, someone called it a stone before. It's more of a... an angry sludge thing, so... someones gonna need to amend that. Here's an interesting story though, many years ago... My grandfather had to hide the stones from the Dark Elves…” He wiggled his fingers. “Woooooh, scary beings. So Jane,” an image of Jane Foster popped up on the screen. “Oh, there she is. That’s Jane… She’s… an old flame of mine… she… she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time… and then the Aether stuck itself inside her... And, she became very, very sick.” 

“So I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I'm from,” Thor continued. “And we had to try and fix her. We were dating at the time, you see. I got to introduce her to my Mother... who's dead,” everyone was trying to give their full attention to Thor as he began to look broken and rambled on, “and oh you know, Jane and I aren't even dating anymore, these things happen though you know, nothing last forever.” 

Tony went up to him, trying to guide him back to his chair. “Why don’t you come sit--”

“I'm not done yet, the only thing permanent in life is impermanence.”

“Awesome,” Tony responded, keeping a hold of him. “Eggs? Breakfast?”

“I’d like a Bloody Mary, thank you.”

Y/N took a deep breath, thankful that she couldn’t feel Thor’s thoughts at the moment. He was broken, and it was so terribly sad. Tony got him to sit back down before deciding that they all needed a break for food.

~~~

The break ended at dinner, after they all got distracted with creating suits for everyone and gathering more information. Tony and Y/N had spent the day at each others sides, not that that was not normal. But this was different, there was now a complete understanding between the couple. That it was them, together, until the end. Together, they went to pick up dinner for the group. Tony’s hand was resting on Y/N’s thigh, thumb rubbing against it. Y/N was focused on the passing world outside the window.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, slightly worried for his wife.

“After this, no matter what happens, we need to retire,” Y/N said quietly. “We can’t keep doing this, especially with Morgan.” She turned to look at her husband. “One day, we might never come back. And I can’t—I won’t do that to her.”

Tony gave a light squeeze to her thigh. “Okay. We’ll retire. I’ll focus on something else, stop making suits.”

“I’ve really enjoyed the last few years of… normalcy. And I believe that we owe it to Morgan to try to keep it that way.”

“I agree… And maybe, we could possible give her a sibling?” Tony tried to make himself seem all innocent, but there was a glint of mischief behind it all.

Y/N patted the hand Tony hand on her. “Ask me after all of this is over. Okay?”

“I can do that.” Tony was silent focusing on the road, for a few moments before speaking up again. “But do you think we could practice? And cause, you know, we don’t know what will happen during the time travel.”

“Why don’t you just straight up say that you want to have sex, Tony?” She laughed.

“Okay, tonight, I want to have sex. End of story.”

Y/N laughed again. “I love you.”

Tony smirked. “You better.”

~~~

Dinner came with a large table and Rocket going over what happened with the Power Stone. Rocket was pacing on the opposite side of the table that Y/N and Tony were sitting on. Tony insisted on sitting next to Thor, worried about him.

“Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag,” the raccoon stated.

“Is that a person?” Scott asked.

“Morag’s a planet. Quill was a person.”

“A planet? Like in outer space?”

“Oh, look. It's like a little puppy, all happy and everything.” Rocket changed his tone to one that he was use when talking to a puppy. “Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy? I'll get you to space.”

“He hasn’t been a part of the team for long, Rocket,” Y/N said. “Give him some slack.”

“How are you doing Y/N?” Bruce asked, changing the subject.

“Better than yesterday. I think everything was just overwhelming me.”

“That brings up a question I have,” Rocket said. “It was mentioned that you’re connected to the Stones. How?”

“You don’t have to answer that, honey, if you don’t want to,” Tony said softly.

“No, it’s fine,” Y/N responded, giving Tony a small smile. She turned back to everyone. “In 1945, I came in physical contact with the Space Stone. It formed a bond with me, and because of that I’m able to control some of their abilities. They, um… they trained me and spoke to me.”

“She was meant to stop what happened,” Thor spoke up, surprisingly. “She was supposed to be the one that stopped him.”

“Thor,” Tony went to stop him.

“No, Tony,” Y/N stopped her husband. “It’s okay… I’m so sorry, Thor, that I couldn’t do what needed to be done then. But I was shown that that fight was not the end. And the Stones stopped me from doing what I had to… I’m so sorry.”

Thor’s chair scrapped as he stumbled up and out of there. Y/N went to follow but was stopped by Tony. 

“You don’t need to go after him,” he said.

“But I do,” Y/N replied. “Because he protected me when you and Steve doubted me. He knew what I had to do, before I even really did. I’ll be okay.”

Tony reluctantly let Y/N follow after Thor. He had grabbed another beer and wandered into the hanger, where the platform was.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I need you to listen,” Y/N began. “I saw the dust and heard the screams years before it happened. Wanda showed it to me, back when we were dealing with Ultron. I saw the gauntlet and I saw it snap. The Stones said they saved me for that moment, but they lied. When the moment came, they told me different… I…” Y/N hesitated to say anything. But Thor had lost everything and deserved to know the whole truth. “I saw a battle. More destructive than we’ve ever been a part of. I saw myself fighting Thanos, all of us fighting together fighting. And I was told that if I tried to stop what happened that day, they would stop me… and they did.”

“Thanos is dead,” Thor responded, not bothering to turn around and face Y/N. “I killed him myself.”

“I know. And I don’t know how I saw myself fighting him. But I do know that I can’t doubt the Stones. We need to be prepared for the consequences that may come from us going back in time and bringing everyone back.”

“You and Thanos?” Steve questioned, alerting Y/N to the fact that everyone had followed them. She took in a sharp breath. “You saw yourself fight him?”

Y/N slowly turned around. “I did.”

“And it was different than what happened 5 years ago?” Natasha asked.

“Yes.”

“How could you keep this a secret from us?” Steve asked.

“I had to. For the safety of everyone… I didn’t even tell Tony everything.”

“We could have spent all this time preparing.”

“It would have done us no good.”

“Y/N,” Bruce called, trying to calm the escalating tension with his tone. “Do you know when it’s going to happen?”

“At the time, I was told five years.”

“What?” A few of them exclaimed.

“And you didn’t think that was important?” Steve questioned harshly.

“I did what I thought was right,” Y/N defended. “To protect the people I care about. You all can’t possibly stand here and judge me for that. We have all made that call! And you can’t possibly understand the burden I have carried with me for years.”

“Doesn’t matter, we’re your team,” Steve motioned to everyone in the room, before motioning between himself and her. “Your family.”

“And look how well that’s done us Steve…” She looked around the room, trying not to get emotional. “I am sorry for what’s all happened. But I am not sorry for the secrets I’ve kept to protect everyone.”

Without other word, Y/N walked out.

next chapter >

I AM SO EXCITED TO SHOW YOU GUYS WHAT I HAVE PLANNED! I hope that this chapter didn’t disappoint. I was really nervous to post it.

I appreciate all likes, comments, asks, and reblogs! Thank you for all the positive support!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

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BOTH:

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@cspr-2​

@supernaturallover2002​

@laic2299​

@aubreeskailynn (won’t link)

@capstopavenger​

TONY:

@bispences​

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[cheelduh]

How to strike your way into someone’s heart (Highschool AU)

Part 2 to this. Can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing I mean what do you expect they’re all teenagers. Lots of brick slapping. Childe clowns Scaramouche. OH YES this isn’t edited at all lmfao have fun.

Synopsis: It’s your big date with Childe after you lost the bet miserably. You decide to pay the occult club a visit in hopes of finding something that can...ease your concerns. Childe on the other hand has Signora give him a friendly piece of advice, believe it or not. 

Note: SRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH

For as long as you can remember, you've never believed in ghosts, demons, or souls that lose their way in the endless void, forced to roam the earth in repentance.

Believing in the unknown takes creativity, adventure, maybe even a little sense of fear. Scratch that—a shitton of fear, because humans love to weave in their insecurities and inability to explain something into something of a phenomenon.

Bad luck lies in this category. Bad luck is simply a way to justify the catastrophe that one cannot admit they have fabricated themselves. Everyone wants a reason as to why shit hits the fan, and it can be anything but their own fault.

Bad luck is nothing but a load of bull to you. That's totally why you're standing outside the calculus classroom during lunch break, which happens to be the official meet spot for the occult club.

You raise a fist to knock, but then falter, thinking over your options once again. Is this what it has come to? Putting your faith into the weird kids that once tried to summon Schrödinger's cat for the physics final.

Fischl kicks the door wide open, a smirk playing at her lips once she spots you. "One cannot refrain from the song of your cogitation. The feline for which thou dwell on—"

A squeak leaves your throat and you flinch back, cutting her off. "You can read my mind?"

"Fischl," An icy eyed boy shows up from behind her and points a thumb back. "Mona needs your help."

Fischl squints at you for a brief moment, and then spins onto her heel to go back into the room.

The blue haired lower class man, Chongyun you guess, narrows his eyes at you. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Finally you manage to speak, palms all sweaty. "Yeah uh, I need your help. You know, with occulty things." You use your hands to articulate your thoughts, but ultimately give up.

You're not sure if it's pity towards your pathetic explanation or simply annoyance, but Chongyun widens the opening. He silently gestures for you to follow.

Stumbling on your feet and putting on your big girl pants, you hurry inside of the room, hoping you aren't seen by Beidou. She wouldn't let you hear the end of this.

The temperature instantly drops, and you have to adjust your sight to navigate. There's heavy incense in the air as well as a a few lighted candles from the dollar store, you guess.

Sitting smack dab in the middle of all the demonic markings is Mona, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Chongyun has made his way next to her, crossing his arms with a sigh, and Fischl is busy cooing at her bird.

"Well well well..." Mona's amused, eyes almost twinkling as she gets up from the poor desk that had to suffer the wrath of her ass. "If it isn't Y/N."

Mona is a glorified dick wiper in your books. One time, she partnered up with you in chemistry last year and refused to do any work because apparently her "star sign" said she was incompatible with science. You haven't forgiven her since.

"I need your help." You barely manage to choke out the words, reigning yourself in by clenching your fists instead. It'll be unethical to claw her face, especially since you're the one who's come to her.

"Oh?" She smiles wickedly, revelling in every moment of this no doubt. "Why would the high and mighty Y/N need help from the 'Whoroscope whore'?"

Fischl nearly slips out a laugh, trying with her upmost ability to refrain from rolling all over the floor.

You blink away your tears of almost-laughter, casually sliding in twenty mora across the table dividing you two. If she's a whoroscope whore like you say she is, she'll definitely put it in her bra.

Mona raises a brow, but her eyes linger on the bill for a second too much. "What makes you think I'll do it for money?"

"That's simple," You say, rolling your eyes. "When you see mora, you cling to it like a baby clings to a tit. Now just take it and solve my issues."

She fumes a litany of curses but snatches the money up anyways.

"What do you want?"

You breathe in, then out. "I need a talisman."

Mona raises a brow, hand on her hip. "I'm sorry. Did I get that right?"

How dare she. You will your eye into not twitching, the beginnings of fire thrumming through your veins, scalding hot. How dare she make me repeat myself.

"You know, the thing to fend off evil spirits," Your statement hangs heavy in the air as the cogs in their brains click into place. "I need one that can remove the most evilest thing times ten to the power of twenty five on this planet."

Everyone immediately thinks of Hu Tao.

Chongyun is the first to speak from an area of expertise, seemingly shocked at your words. "Are you sure you want a talisman that powerful? How bad is the evil spirit you've come across?"

You glance out the window, through the semi-open blinds. The apprehension curls in your stomach once you spot Childe chasing Aether with safety scissors, and you've never been more sure of than anything in your life.

Gulping, you turn back to the exorcist. "I'm 110% sure."

He doesn't ask any more questions and goes to fetch the talisman.

Mona clears her throat. "So I hear you have a date with Childe today. Quite the character you've taken to."

"Oh please," You hiss through your teeth, your blood pressure going up tenfold, "you're the one that told him our star signs were intertwined and that we're fated lovers."

She shrugs innocently, stance casual unlike your own that is ready to lunge an attack.

"Here you are," Chongyun hands you a talisman, a colourful mix of some charms, some kind of liquid in a bottle, and about a shitton of other things. "You'll need these if you're going to face the most demonic of all evils."

You think of Childe's stupidly handsome smirk, the playful life of his eyes, and how gentle and considerate he is with you. You think about how cruel he is to others, but how loving he can be to you.

"Oh, I will be."

—

Childe is getting his ass handed to him by Scaramouche on the switch. It's just that he can't seem to focus, not with the forthcoming date all over his mind.

He hasn't experienced these kind of jitters in a long time. Has to endure that foolish smile that's about to plaster all over his face.

Scaramouche may be a son of a bitch with an agenda, but he doesn't appreciate his acquaintances safeguarding their personal crap when it starts to leak onto him. Especially when it comes to video games.

"Okay," The short boy sighs, stretching over the staff room sofa to drop his controller on the cushions. "Let's hear it." He can't even properly enjoy his victories when Childe isn't giving it his all.

"Hear what?" Childe lays his head back, relaxing from all the strain of endless gaming during the lunch hour. He seems too relaxed for someone who's broken into the teacher's lounge.

"Why you're so distracted." Scaramouche points out. "Not that I care—hey! I'm serious here!"

Childe's cracking up for absolutely no reason, rudely cutting him off. "I'm sorry—sorry it's just so hard to take you seriously when you're wearing that stupid fucking hat."

"Don't question the drip." The older moves his head to glare at him, but the thin stripe of silk on his hat swooshes with him, and it's enough to have Childe clutching his stomach in pain as he barks out in laughter.

"Grow the fuck up." Scaramouche says, no doubt exasperated from the constant shit he gets.

"Ok—ok I'm sorry."

There's a knock on the door before Scaramouche gets the chance to intimidate him again.

"Fuck shit fuck who is that? Wasn't there a staff meeting?" Childe whisper yells, panic clear in the ocean of his eyes.

Scaramouche shrugs and downs a can of soda with no care in the world.

Childe would be nonchalant too. If it were a normal day, he wouldn't give two shits about getting caught.

However, he's looking forward to that date he has with you today. Detention is going foil all his lecherous plans.

"It's me." The feminine sound of a threat calls out from the other side. "Open the door." The clicks and clacks of her toes tapping the floor indicating her impatience.

The two sigh in relief, Childe getting up to open the door. It's way too early in the afternoon to deal with this crap.

"Surprised to see me?" Signora greets sweetly, and if not for the murderous glint in her eyes, he would smile back.

"Yeah, I didn't say Bloody Mary three times." The ginger replies, keeping a steady eye on the upperclassman in case she pulls a fast one.

The blonde shoves him aside in offence, and prances in like she owns the goddamn place. Scaramouche greets her with the bird.

"There's this rumour going around—I'm sure you've heard..."

"Oh?" Childe pockets his keys, ready for an attack, not even remotely interested in the topic.

"Something about how Y/N gave Mona a visit today" Signora muses, elegantly taking a seat on the arm of the couch, "with your date and all, I just thought you should know."

"Hah!" Scaramouche bursts out in laughter, tears in the corner of his eyes. "I can't believe she went to get a horoscope reading on how shitty your date's gonna be."

"Get castrated." Childe growls, flipping him off on both hands.

"Now now boys," Signora's lips curl, and she clasps both manicured hands together, prepared to break the fight if it ever reaches its peak. "Settle down. You two are comrades."

"As if I'm comrades with this SIMP!" Scaramouche has to wheeze out the words.

The youngest clenches his fists, unclenches, and then lets a smirk grow. "Oh? I'm the simp? What about that time Mona pantsed you in-front of all the freshmen and you fell in love with her."

Scaramouche glares at him, a glare strong enough to have anyone shaking in their shoes. "I'm attracted at her sheer audacity of trying to fuck I, Scaramouche, the 8th harbinger, over. It takes balls."

"Mad respect." Signora leans forward to place her phone on the coffee table, then approaches Childe. "Moving on, the reason I've decided to bestow my precious intel on you is because I have a favour to ask of you."

"What?" He says blankly, confused that she has a request for him out of all people.

"I need you to let me get you ready for this date of yours." She gives him a gaze that is enough to wither away any arguments.

Childe shares a look with Scaramouche as if to say "am I fucking deaf because I sure as shit didn't just hear that."

"You sure as hell did, boys." Signora intercepts the connection of their two brainwaves with a dreaded sigh. "I hate Y/N. This is the only way I can get back at her."

"Hey!" Childe exclaims loudly, waving his hands in the air incessantly. "What makes you think I'll let you shit on my future girlfriend."

"I'll be doing nothing of the sorts." She points out, giving him a sly smile. "I just know she's terrified of what's coming. The better the date is, the more she's gonna hate herself. What more do I need but to sprinkle some inner conflict within her airtight resolve?"

As favorable as the proposal is, Childe  contemplates for a second. Signora...helping him? This could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right.

His inner turmoil takes him into the future, where you two are happily married with eight and a half kids. If you ever managed to find out Signora was the culprit that was finally able to set you two up, you'd never forgive him.

"Nah I'll take a hard pass." He doesn't want to think about divorce and custody battles this early on. He'd rather face the brunt of Signora's wrath.

Scaramouche chooses right then to make a tactical withdrawal out through the window since he doesn't want to be a witness to a murder he hasn't caused.

Surprisingly— "Fine then." Signora shrugs, unbothered when summoning out a minty juul from no where. She's disappointed nonetheless.

Childe tilts his head, perplexed, but decides against mulling over it for too long. Instead, he strides off to the door, wanting to get the last two periods over with so he can run home and freshen up for this date.

"Oh and Childe?" Signora calls out to him, but he barely acknowledges her, only pausing momentarily without looking back. "A piece of friendly advice. A diligent student like Y/N, there's no way she'd be into rash things like fighting. So try and control yourself, hmm?"

He flashes the senior a sheepish smile, the front row tickets to the illegal underground fight-club burning in the back pocket of his pants.

—

Childe conceals near the bushes by the gate, expertly hiding his shaking hands by pretending to look for something in his back. His goal isn't to seem desperate, even though he's raced out here at the speed of light after Havria's dismissal.

It's not like he's trying to eavesdrop or anything. He just wants a little insight on how you're feeling about this, in case the rumors of you visiting the occult club wasn't a farce.

From his peripheral, he spots you and a familiar figure that is Lisa, leisurely walking side by side as you approach the main side walk.

"Ready for your date, Y/N? You've been daydreaming all afternoon." Lisa winks, and dodges the shove you send her way with experience like no other.

"Yes, daydreaming about punching you in the face." Your left eye twitches in annoyance as you fix your hold on your skateboard.

"Well then, I'll be off—ah!"

The gorilla grip you have on her sleeve takes away all the time she has to get on the last bus she's about to miss.

Your utter strength is enough to make Childe's knees weak. How pathetic he thinks.

"Oh no you don't," You say in a sing-song voice, "you got me into this, so you're going to help."

"Help with what?" Lisa fakes a hard pout as she bats her lashes, trying to collect pity points.

"I—" You inhale, loosening your grip on her and averting your eyes nervously to see if anyone's watching. "Don't make me say it."

The older girl motions for you to continue, and you're sure you've suffered more for less at this point.

"I've never...been on a..." The sentence ends in a trailed murmur.

Childe doesn't think he's ever seen you so flustered. He's about to snap a picture for later, but decides against it. They'll be plenty of moments later on to see your cute expressions.

Lisa's grin is both seductive and terrifying, Childe notices. "You've never been on a date?"

"Shut up!" You hiss, dropping your board so you can cover her lips with your palm, eyes darting around your surroundings frantically. "Not so loud."

He has to bite at his fist to hide his amusement.

As if she has a sixth sense, Lisa's eyes somehow find Childe's through the abundance of leaves, and there's a glint in her eyes that nearly makes him shart his pants.

"Of course Y/N," She replies sweetly to you, who is currently unaware of the staring match going on. "I'll teach you everything you need to know...and more."

Childe doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Nor does he want to find out.

—

You ponder on what's taking him so long, more on edge than you usually are. Thankfully, Lisa basically pried your hair down from its usual up-do. Said something about how you can hide your lack of shits given as to not offend him.

Except you think you're giving more shits that you expected to. Why else would your heart be pounding so hard?

"What took you so long?" You sense him creeping up on you, ceasing his chance to pounce.

Childe groans playfully and slaps a hand over his face as he comes into view. "How'd you know?"

"You have a douche-styled gait." You reply as you remove your gaze off your phone to approach him.

He's prepared to shoot a witty reply, but it dies halfway through his throat when he procures a good look at you. Your hair frames your face elegantly, eyes shining despite the tiredness that's so clear, all complete with a cooling spring dress that hugs you just right.

Mouth going dry, he forgets how to speak the common tongue, unable to tear his gaze off your form.

You shift in place awkwardly. "Uh are you okay? Looking a little...blank."

"Sorry—sorry just thinking." Childe stumbles over his words like the complete idiot and a half he is, berating himself countlessly on the inside. He regains his confidence once he spots the light dust on your cheeks. "You ready for the best date ever?"

"The best date huh?" It's the first time you smile today, and he swears his heart leaps in his rib cage. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "I'm ready. I better not be disappointed."

"I wouldn't dare disappoint, girlie." He feigns mock offence as dramatically as possible. "I'll show you how to have some real fun. Cool keychain by the way, for good luck?"

It's one of the charms Chongyun urged you to carry with you at all times to keep all forms of evil away.

"Yeah...something like that."

The two of you ease into the walk in a relatively comfortable fashion, contributing with lively chatter and a few jabs here and there. It's not awkward at all, not like you thought it would be. Your nerves loosen up, mind diverting from the roots of the stress of high school.

"—And you won't believe what Kaeya did the other day. I'm telling you there's something wrong with him because that SoundCloud rapper wannabe Venti goaded him into birdboxing through the hallways at lunch."

"And the son of a bitch did it?"

"The son of a bitch did it." Childe confirmed, gasping through his laughs as the two of you converse in psychobabble. "And guess who he bumped into?"

You're choking in laughter, tears in your eyes as you hunch over and shake. "He didn't. Childe—no he didn't."

"Straightttt into Diluc. And he had the balls to feel him up because he thought he bumped into a hot bab—"

Childe crashes into a sturdy chest and stumbles backwards towards you, but manages to catch his balance midway. Both of you freeze when faced with a buff guy from another school, bandages on his fist and a crooked smirk on his face.

Fuck. You think. Classic high school cliché.

Realizing he can't risk the remainder of this date when it hasn't even begun, Childe raises a hand in apology, aiming to be the bigger person instead of socking the kid in the face.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking." He offers to the guy, but you can tell he isn't buying any of it. There are about four more kids who group, a setup that isn't going to end in your favour.

"Hey punk. You don't remember me?" The upperclassmen barks out, glaring holes into your date.

You deadpan towards Childe, but he's too is racking his brain to remember. Ends up shrugging with no recollection.

"I have a list of names but they're in my other pants." Shit, what an a-grade reply. Now you know you're done for. "Listen dude, I'm kind of on a date and the vibe is going great. Don't ruin it."

"It's a good thing she's here to watch then!" The guy yells, stomping so that he's right in-front of Childe, ready to pounce. "You humiliated me in front of my gang last week. I'm here to rip you a new one."

Childe blinks, tries to remember, and when he doesn't, he grabs a wad full of cash from the his Fanny pack and throws it at the guy's feet.

Everyone's eyes bulge out of their sockets, including yours at the amount of money placed there casually on the crack of the dirty sidewalk.

"Hopefully this is enough for the damages." Childe offers, aiming to not further escalate the situation albeit how pissed he is right now. If you weren't here...well that would be another, much more violent story.

With a soft tug, Childe brings you close and begins to pass the guy, until he's abruptly stopped by a hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"I don't think so!" The guys barks, and his lackeys move to surround you two. "You gotta pay taxes too buddy." Oh he's getting way too comfortable now.

A feral smile grows on Childe's face as he looks over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Yeah shithead." The guy seethes, puffing out his chest to size him up.

Childe itches for a fight. He can no longer keep in the urge and is just about ready to raise a heavy fist, but is beaten by the sound of a loud thwack, and then a painful groan following.

There you are, standing in front of the trembling asshole, spinning your crossbody bag in circles like it's a nunchuck in all it's glory. There's a deadly glint in your eyes, pure, unadulterated vexation in your features.

If Childe could fall for you any harder, it's probably happening now. In that exact moment, his heart beats in his ears uncontrollably, and there's nothing but raw adoration that piles up all at once.

You're an angel of destruction, a force not to be reckoned with, and shit, you're the eye of the fucking storm.

Fire courses through your veins as you pulverize the guy with your bag, swinging with such expertise it has Childe in awe. "He may be an absolute idiot for not remembering—"

"Hey girlie you're killing me here!" Your date snaps out of his astonishment temporarily.

"—but you don't get to call him a shithead, you asshole!" You snarl angrily, gripping the handle of your bag tightly, decking everyone that lunges at you, letting out strings of curses with every hit. Every hit sends a flock of them either stumbling back in pain, or knocked out completely.

Childe doesn't even get a chance to lift a finger by the time you're done violating them with your heavy ass pink bag. Stands there like an absolute loser.

"Apologize." You pant, prepared to send another flurry of attacks at the leader, who is crawling away with a battered face. "Apologize or I'll—I'll fucking Russian neck tie your ass."

"S-sorry!" The guy whimpers out and tries not to piss his pants at the threat.

Childe is still in too much shock at the whole ordeal to reply, short circuiting.

Another thirty seconds pass until he registers the smaller hand waving in front of his face. He catches your cold hand through his haze, brings it closer.

Running a free hand through his locks, he doesn't hide his astonishment. "You're fucking gorgeous, girlie." He whistles lowly, eyeing you with a new kind of regard.

"I-I uh." Your face is all shades of red by now, the adrenaline from kicking ass wearing down. "Let's go."

"How is that bag so heavy?" One of the fallen gasps out in pain, clutching his ribs as he trembles on the floor. "Like a buh-brick."

A part of your zipper in open, and Childe briefly peeks out of morbid curiosity. His jaw slackens. "Is that a...no, it can't be."

"It's a brick." You murmur guiltily, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Just in case." Fingers tentatively play with the straps.

Childe is head over heels by now, all smitten as a foreign warmth bubbles up in his throat, and he's just about sure he'll puke his heart out.

His next words are picked out carefully. "There's an underground fight club going on—"

You lock and aim for his right kidney.

Worth a try, Childe thinks.

"SIKE. Joking—joking. Just a joke." He insists, gloved hands raised by his ears in defence.

Clicking your tongue, you scowl and rush past him.

It hasn't even been an hour and it's been the most exciting date Childe's ever experienced. When he sees your lips twitch, he knows it's the same for you as well.

"Are we going or not?" You mumble, avoiding eye contact, a tinge of red still decorating your cheeks.

Childe crumbles into his hands at your deadly duality. One that comes for his enemies and one that comes straight for his heart.

[elizabeethan]

Rising Tide

An Overboard Addition

The decision to travel to the Outer Banks to follow the Bluefin Tuna fishing season through the winter was an easy one, only once Emma had suggested that they go together. Even after three years of marriage, he still couldn’t imagine being apart from her for more than a week, never mind an entire winter season. But when Emma found out about the extended season down south, thanks to the blasted television show out of Massachusetts, she insisted that they take part, together.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect her parents and brother to join them.

A/N: I wrote this because I felt like I was being too mean to Mary Margaret and decided to spread the wealth.

For @the-darkdragonfly​ for keeping my enthusiasm for this series alive, and for being the best beta around.

Rated M

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~~~~

There are too many people on this bloody boat. 

 Killian’s fishing vessel has comfortably held himself, his wife, and his two crew members on countless occasions, but something has shifted with the addition of a fifth person. 

 Or, perhaps, it’s the fact that his crew members have been traded for Emma’s entire family. Plus, there’s their dog. 

 The decision to travel to the Outer Banks to follow the Bluefin Tuna fishing season through the winter was an easy one, only once Emma had suggested that they go together. Even after three years of marriage, he still couldn’t imagine being apart from her for more than a week, never mind an entire winter season. But when Emma found out about the extended season down south, thanks to the blasted television show out of Massachusetts, she insisted that they take part, together. 

 Of course, he didn’t exactly expect her parents and brother to join them. 

 Leo has just turned 21, and is, according to his sister, soul searching. Emma claims that he isn’t sure what he’s doing with his life, what with his decision not to attend college and his struggles to find a steady job. She thought that maybe helping Killian this season would also help Leo, perhaps exposing some passion for fishing he never knew he had. But of course, Leo has never fished before, so his father is tagging along to make matters easier and safer. And why not throw Mary Margaret into the mix too… the more the merrier. 

 At least that’s what Killian thought until they all got onto his bloody boat and shoved off.

 It really isn’t meant for five people. Plus a dog the size of a miniature horse. 

Emma enjoys sunning herself on the bow, even in the winter, and Killian enjoys watching her. What he doesn’t enjoy is the quick and judging looks he gets from her father and the snickering and giggling from her mother each time he’s caught. He doesn’t enjoy the groaning and eye rolling he gets from Leo each time he kisses his wife, seen because of the painful lack of privacy on this bloody boat. 

 The whole journey down was near torture. Emma and Killian have grown accustomed to a certain amount of privacy, as well as a certain amount of pleasure for each of them. Everyone says the honeymoon phase will fade, and yet it hasn’t for them. Everyone also says that he will soon struggle to keep up with the energy of his much younger wife, and yet he has not experienced such a thing. 

 Killian’s always been a private person, preferring to love his wife in seclusion. At least when it’s Will and Robin on the boat, he can tell them to shove off if they’re caught in some unsavory position. But when her father does, Killian nearly jumps overboard. 

 It takes them about a day to sail into Wanchese, the harbor almost as accommodating as the one back home. They’re friendly here, but he can’t help but get a sense of competition burning between himself and the southern fishermen. Killian’s never been much for competition, but David is. 

 He says something cheeky and mildly ominous to the others in the fleet, something about catching the most tonnage this season despite not being from down here, and Killian stiffens beneath Emma’s hand on his back. She leaves warmth between his shoulder blades where he always seems to be stiff. 

 “It’s alright,” she says as she kisses his shoulder over his sweater, pressing up onto her toes. “It’ll be fun.”

 “The season down here is short,” he explains, though she already knows. “But I have a feeling it’ll feel quite long.”

 She hums and laughs, kissing him once more and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind him as he pulls away from the docks. When he hears her mother’s voice cooing at Ripple, “look at your mommy and daddy over there,” he stiffens again. 

 It’ll be a long season. 

 ~~~~

 He’s only glad for the hotel room that her parents have rented. 

 Leo’s still on the boat, of course, acting as Killian’s first mate, but he can handle that for the evenings. Leo does well preparing the lines and fishing for bait, and he tries to see the upside as Emma serves him spaghetti for the fourth night in a row and he realizes that they once again won’t have any privacy. 

 “Thank you, love,” he says softly to her as she hands him the floppy paper plate. “Smells delicious.”

 She snorts, shaking her head as she takes a seat beside him on the bow. It’s become a favorite spot for them; a place where they can unwind together, make love to each other, console each other’s demons. “Don’t lie,” she says, bumping their shoulders together. “I’m a shitty cook anyway, never mind on the water.”

 “You’re a brilliant cook.”

 “Yes,” she laughs, nodding and twirling her fork in the flaccid pasta. “My recipe for peanut butter and jelly is award winning.”

 “Aye, well, I do like when you sprinkle the potato chips in them.” 

 “That’s because we’re both eight-years-old.” 

 He leans towards her, securing his plate in his lap so that he can press a lingering kiss against her temple. “I should hope not,” he jokes. 

 They sit quietly for a while, enjoying the dinner she made for them despite her complaints that it’s mushy and watching the sunset. It’s beautiful here, he has to admit, and he can’t help but appreciate the way the pink sky bounces off of the sea and into his wife’s hair. 

 “It’ll be fine, you know,” she says softly, her lips pressing to his neck. “It’s only a few weeks, and I don’t even think they’ll come out most weeks.”

 “Aye, love,” he murmurs into the top of her head. “You know I’m not upset about this, right?” 

 “Yeah, but I can tell you’re not completely comfortable either. I mean, my parents--”

 “Emma,” he interrupts, although he doesn’t like to. He takes her face in his hands and gives her a smile. “I love your parents because I love you. I can handle a few weeks with them.”

 “You promise you won’t gaff them if they mess up your boat?” 

 He laughs, if only to remove the image of such a violent proposition from his mind, and nods. “I promise, my love.”

 ~~~~

 Things start turning south after a few weeks on the water, her parents, just as Emma had predicted, only making a few appearances. David was helpful enough teaching Leo the ropes, and he’s become an invaluable member of Killian’s crew. Now that he’s trained quite thoroughly, David and Mary Margaret have taken the opportunity to explore the Outer Banks. 

 Only today, they’re out on the boat, along for the ride since Killian suggested a shorter trip just past the sound. It was hard enough crossing the bar with Emma’s father’s watchful eye on him, and now that they've made it to deep enough waters, his anxiety is at an all time high. 

 Killian is a talented sailor. He knows this, and he also knows that he’s a talented fisherman. He’s earned himself a rather suitable fortune in his years catching tuna, and he maintains that he knows what he’s doing. And yet, having an audience-- especially one that seems to still be waiting for the other shoe to drop-- is making him entirely doubt himself. They’re waiting for their daughter to get hurt, either by him or because of him. He’s waiting for the doubt he has in himself to fade, and yet it never seems to unless Emma forces it away. 

 He would never hurt her. He would die if anything ever happened to her, especially if it was at his hands. If he were ever involved in any pain delivered to her, he isn’t sure how he would survive the guilt and anguish that would result. 

 Which is why he’s been so careful the entire trip, and each time she’s on his boat with him. He failed at his attempts to make her wear a lifejacket-- So what, you think I can’t swim? I’m a better swimmer than you, probably-- but he tries to take every other precaution. He’s even trained Ripple to bark when she sees a large wave incoming so that they can take cover. He keeps knives stashed around the boat so that he can cut any rogue line or rope, should anyone get tangled. He keeps lifepreservers as well, one on each corner despite the boat being small enough to reach one easily. Every sharp object has a home, a designated place to avoid accidents. He captains a very safe vessel any day, but when Emma and their Ripple are on board, it’s like his senses are heightened. 

 Which is why he watches her like a hawk each day, but especially now that her parents are on board. He just knows that one misstep will have them staring him down, judging his ability to care for their daughter, silently gaining confirmation that their marriage won’t make it. He knows it’s dramatic, and not entirely true, but he can’t help but fear that they think of him as too old for her. He’s not energetic enough; he can’t keep up with her needs. He can’t provide her with the life that she deserves. 

 They’ve talked about this, of course. But the reminders keep coming with her parents’ looks towards him, so his self-doubt flourishes. 

 They’ve only just hooked up when it happens. Leo is reeling-- he’s doing phenomenally as he works with the waves in an effort to drag the beast to them-- and Killian is driving. David stands at the helm with Leo, telling Killian when to go into reverse and when to go into neutral, when to turn left and when to turn right. They’ve almost brought the thing to the port of the vessel, and Emma stands diligently with a gaff ready to assist however she can. Killian can’t stop staring. Not only because she looks beautiful and strong, but because he worries for her too much. 

 He notices the rope on the ground quickly after it falls, calling to David to move it despite his distraction with the strained line. He kicks it away, a loop forming easily as he does so. He shouts once more, desperately as he watches Emma take a step to her left, and panics when he isn’t heard. 

 “Emma!” he calls from the wheel, turning towards her but unable to abandon steering the craft for fear of disaster. “Love, your--”

 She starts to trip as David throws the harpoon, the line tightening around her ankle and pulling at her leg until she has to drop to the deck. Killian abandons his post easily, rushing towards her and shoving against David with too much force so that he can grab for a blade and cut her free. 

 She falls forward into his arms, her gasp coming out forcefully as she seems to piece together what’s almost happened as the adrenaline wears off. 

 “Woah,” she breathes, squeezing his hand in hers as he helps her to straighten. 

 “Are you--” 

 “The line!” David calls. “It’s-- Emma?” He hurries towards them both, finally abandoning the tool as Leo cuts the beast free and does the same and crouches by her side. “What happened?”

 A sudden wave of disgust washes over him as an equally powerful wave from the sea crashes into his beloved boat. With the force of it, with his wife safe in his arms, he realizes he couldn’t possibly care less what happens to his fishing vessel as long as she’s alright. 

 “She nearly went overboard,” he spits. “Did you not hear me? Or were you too busy with the bloody harpoon?”

 “Obviously I didn’t hear you,” he argues. “But I don’t need you blaming me when your equipment doesn’t work. This harpoon line is way too long.”

 He breathes out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head and staring up at David. “Oh, so this is my fault? You aren’t watching your lines and nearly get your daughter killed and somehow it’s my fault?”

 “Babe,” she starts, putting her hand on his, but he’s too angry and worked up and terrified. 

 “No, I'm sick of this,” he says. He hears Ripple finally bursting out of the cabin after far too many attempts to break free, and she hurries towards Emma, towards her mother, to lick her cheek. Emma giggles and cuddles with the pup, seeming to allow her breath to finally even. “Every chance you get, it’s a dig at my ability to keep my wife safe. And when I-- when your Captain orders you to move a bloody line away from her damn foot--”

 “Killian!” 

 He can’t even respond, can’t do anything but take a heaving breath in hopes that it will calm him. He knows what she’s thinking-- that she wishes he would stop yelling at her bloody father-- but he can’t shake the feelings of rage coursing through him. 

 “I’m sorry,” he finally mumbles, finally able to turn his head and look her in the eye. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

 She takes his hand and squeezes once more, nearly forcing him to maintain eye contact, and says, “I’m fine, babe. I’m okay.” he tries to ignore the discomfort written across her father’s entire being. “Let’s just go below deck and you can check my ankle, okay?” 

 “Is it hurting you?”

 She blinks once and says, “It’s a little sore. Come on.” 

 They aren’t even able to shut themselves in before she tugs on his arm, dragging him close to her and wrapping him in a squeeze that he swears could kill him if it wasn’t exactly what he needs. It’s not as if she was dragged over the bow-- it’s not as if the rope truly cinched around her ankle and dragged her overboard, beneath the surface of the deadly crashing waves-- but she came pretty damn close. And now, as he comes down from the high of adrenaline of nearly losing his wife, his best friend, the most important thing in his life, he cracks. 

 He can barely breathe as his palms reach to cup her cheeks, if only to ensure that they’re still warm and pink and alive. He chokes when he has her in his grasp, his brows pinching together almost painfully and his teeth digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, likely drawing blood. “Love,” he stutters, his voice weak and small, and he nearly loses his balance as another wave crashes into them. She keeps him steady. “I almost--”

 “No,” she insists. “I know, baby, but you didn’t. I’m right here, Killian. I’m not going anywhere.”

 When his eyes meet hers, he says desperately, “I can’t lose you.”

 “You won’t,” she tells him with such certainty that he has no choice but to believe her. “Killian, I'm right here. I’m here with you, and I’m okay. You’re not gonna lose me.” 

 He shakes his head, and when he does, she creeps closer to him on the small captain's bed until her hips can straddle his thighs. His hands find her waist, unable to do anything but hold her and try to convince himself that she’s here and she’s fine. He didn’t lose her, although he almost did. The sea has given so much to him, but it’s also taken. It took his brother, or so he must only assume, and it almost took the love of his life. He knows now, now that it’s been proven to him, that he would gladly give himself to the sea if she took his wife. “Emma, my love…”

 She hardly gives him a chance to answer, although part of him thinks she knows that he had nothing to say. Her lips cut him off, pressing to his and destroying any thoughts of negativity or anger or fear. They fuse themselves to his mouth and take from him every ounce of distress he could possibly imagine feeling. They give him every ounce of strength he could possibly possess. Her tongue slinks out over his own and sends small tingles down his back to the base of his spine until his grip on her tightens. Until his grip is tight enough to convince himself that she isn’t going anywhere. 

 “I love you,” she presses against his skin, her mouth somehow never leaving his.

 “Emma,” he breathes again. With a gasp, he says once more, “Emma.” 

 “I'm okay,” she says. Then, with her hips pressing to his, she says, “Let me show you.” 

 In a move that he can barely perceive, one consumed with disorientation and a need to still feel her in his arms, she’s off of his lap and shedding her clothes. Her shorts were wet and difficult to peel from her legs, her-- his-- sweater, too, but her tight tank top, the one doubling as a bra, comes off of her easily. He reaches for her breasts, his lips finding her tightened nipple, and the moan that leaves her has him shaking. 

 She takes his clothes off, too, leaving hot trails of fire with her mouth each time she removes something from his skin. Her tongue follows a line between two freckles on his upper thigh and he throws his head back against the thin pillow that they share most nights. When her lips purse against the angry red tip of his cock, he grabs for her, fingers lacing through her hair and holding onto her if only so that he never has to fear letting her go. If he never lets go of her, he’ll never lose her. 

 She hollows her cheeks expertly, quickly working him to nearly his breaking point until he has to force himself to stop her. He wants her more than almost anything, second only to the feeling of finishing with the feeling of her walls reaching the same precipice around him. He thinks-- he hopes-- that the look he gives her conveys this, and when she releases him and licks her lips, smirking at him, he knows he’s succeeded. 

 Her fingers find her clit, although he’s quick to replace them with his own as she settles herself just above him. When she throws her head back with a gasp, her breasts swell and her long hair nearly tickles his kneecaps. When his fingers slide down from her clit to her entrance, smoothly spreading her arousal until he can tuck them inside, she lets out a moan that’s far too loud for their close quarters, so he sits up and fuses his mouth to hers. Her fingers grip the back of his head, holding him to her and tugging at his hair in a way that he knows means she’s mad with want. 

 His tongue traces her bottom lip in filthy need before he bites down on it, making her moan. “I want you,” she breathes as his mouth finds her earlobe. “Killian, please.”

 “I need you,” he murmurs without meaning to, suckling on her ear in hopes to silence anymore foolish confessions. 

 “Take me. Take what you need, please.” 

 Her core is just above him, his cock throbbing with a need to be within the heat of her walls, to be squeezed by her until he can spill all of the love he has for her inside. When she drops onto him, her clit running along the length of him and warming him from the inside out, he grips her hips once again and helps to guide her. When she whimpers desperately, a moan escaping the back of her throat making him twitch, his mouth finds hers once again. With another move along his length, her fingers reach between them and guide him into her, making her hiss and whine and bite and hug him tighter. 

 “I love you so fucking much,” she says as she grinds down against him. 

 He can do nothing but consume her, taking her mouth against his again and moving into her until she lets out a breathless sound of need and desire. It drives him mad, his whole body shivering as he thrusts up once again, and when she props herself on her knees and moves herself up and down along his length, he has to squeeze his eyes shut. 

 The fact is, he nearly lost her. She’s fine, she wasn’t injured, nothing happened, but it could have been so much worse than it was. He praises himself for being quick enough to cut her free, but fears what could have happened if he hadn’t. But when she takes his face into her palms again and presses their foreheads together, when she whispers that she’s here and that she loves him, he knows that he can believe her. He knows that he can allow himself to move on from the absolute terror that comes with nearly losing the one thing he can’t live without.

 “Emma, fuck.” 

 “Fuck me,” she says. Her grip on his hair tightens again and she commands, “Harder.”

 So he flips them over, Emma landing on her back and gasping when he slams back into her, her ankles hooking around his back and pulling him deeper into her. She moans in his ear when he tucks his face into the crook between her neck and her shoulder and sucks what he knows will become a far-too-obvious mark there. She’ll likely have to keep wearing his sweaters to cover it, not that he minds. 

 She squeezes, and she pushes against him, and she cries out against the lobe of his ear, and before he knows it, his hands are finding the back of her shoulders and pulling her up towards him so that he can hold her as close to himself as he can possibly manage. When she’s seated upon his thighs, his hips thrusting so that his cock can slide into her and hit every perfect part of her, she bites her bottom lip and screws her brows so tightly that he wonders if she’ll have a headache. 

 He can’t speak, can’t put into words the love he has for her, so he kisses her again and she kisses back. And though it’s quick and dirty, it’s just what the two of them need. She’s alright-- she’s just fine-- but they need each other now. He needs her to show him that she’s alright. She needs him to show her that he believes her. So when they come together, Emma squeezing him forcefully and desperately, he spills himself into her with just as much neediness so that they’re falling together, holding each other, losing themselves in one another. 

 Eventually, he falls forwards, Emma barely catching him before rolling the both of them over so that they're on their sides and facing one another. Once they’re comfortable, both of them panting heavily, she lifts her hand and rests it on his cheek, a soft smile gracing her lips and brightening her eyes, and he knows now that she’s alright. She’s fine, just like she said. 

 “You’re okay?” he asks in clarification. 

 “I’m perfect, as long as you’re here.” 

 “I’m always here.” 

 “Then I’m always okay.” 

 He didn’t expect to be here with her, now, with her family above deck, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. When his palm lands softly on her cheek, the warmth of it heating his entire being, he smiles. “I love you.”

 “I love you too, idiot. You’re my husband; it’s kind of a given.” 

 With a laugh, he answers, “You’re very rude.” 

 “Only because I love you very, very much.” 

 “I’m not sure how those two things are equivalent, but…”

 She shushes him then, scooting closer to him so that she can press her lips to his. “Don’t overthink it, baby. You could hurt yourself.” 

 “You’re quite something.”

 “Yes, I love it when they say that to me after a night of passionate lovemaking.”

 “It’s only four thirty.” 

 She laughs softly, a warm breath pushing itself from her lungs and onto his face, his lips tingling in response to the heat of her presence beside him. He laughs, too, his hand brushing a rogue strand of hair away from her eyes. “Emma,” he whispers. 

 “Killian,” she whispers back, “I’m okay.” 

 He nods, because with her in his arms now, he knows. “I know.” 

 She kisses him one more time, then asks, “Now, what was it you always say to me? You’re only allowed to fuck me through your feelings if we talk about them afterwards?” 

 He sighs, nuzzling his nose against her own before it finds her cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

 “You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” she tells him, her exasperation clear in her voice. “I’m not mad, Killian. I just want you to know that it’s alright to feel angry about stuff that scares you.” 

 “When did you get so deep?” 

 “The ocean is pretty deep, right? And I almost got yeeted right into it.” 

 He wants to laugh, truly. He wants to make a joke about her idiotic, immature reference. But he can’t, for his fear of her actually going overboard takes over. And he doesn’t exactly know what the bloody hell that phrase even means. So he squeezes her tighter and shakes his head. “Hush,” he says, because he can say nothing else. 

 She whispers, “Killian,” and when he looks up at her, her eyes are deep and serious. “It’s no one’s fault. And nothing happened.” 

 He shakes his head. “Something very bad could have happened, love. If I ever lost you…” 

 “I know, I know,” she says, cutting him off with one more kiss. “And I know you’re mad at my dad, too, but it’s no one’s fault. That rope was there, and you cut it away.”

 Truthfully, he’s almost surprised by her mention of her father. It’s true that he became too angry, too blameful of the man who could have prevented a disaster from taking place had he only listened. But Emma is okay, she’s fine, and David is probably just as worried as Killian was. 

 “I know,” he concedes. 

 “And I know you’re a little upset about him… I guess he’s been kind of doubting you, huh?”

 He shrugs. She’s right, of course, but far be it for him to admit that he’s feeling this way. Why he can’t, he doesn’t know. 

 “It must get pretty tiring to have him always questioning you, especially since you're the captain. Your word goes, and all that.” 

 There’s no response, not without admitting that this is exactly the way he’s feeling, so he kisses her nose. She makes it easy, of course, and she’s completely right. He gave a command that wasn’t followed, and it could have cost him his life in the loss of her. “It’s just…” he starts, unsure if he’ll be able to finish. 

 “They’ve been doubting you all this time?”

 With a sigh, he nods. How she manages to read his every thought, his every emotion, is lost on him. “We’ve been married quite a while.” 

 “Three years,” she confirms happily. “And we’re pretty content, aren't we?” 

 “Aye,” he laughs, pulling her close to him so that he can tuck her beneath his chin and press a kiss to the top of his head. 

 “They have this need, Killian,” she starts to explain. “They gave me up, and now they have me back. They have this need to protect me and take care of me so they don’t risk losing me again.” 

 “I know, I just--” 

 “And I’m sure it’s impossible to rectify how they could somehow not see you as the one thing that’s protected me more than anything. But they need to be the ones, I think.” 

 He shakes his head, unable to move past the point she’s trying to make as he asks, “So what, I can’t be the one to protect my wife?” 

 With a soft sigh, she suggests, “Maybe their doubts are rubbing off on you? Making you doubt yourself?”

 “It’s not exactly difficult,” he says in spite before again trying to force away his irritation. Shaking his head, he says more softly, “I know that we’re perfect for one another, and that I can and will keep you safe above all else, but the constant distrust makes it difficult to believe that.” 

 Her fingers find the gray along his temple, scratching through it lightly in such loving gentleness. He’ll never tire of how much she loves his grays, his old age somehow feeling more manageable as her appreciation for it grows each day. She stays quiet, and he knows it’s because she knows he’s right. He’s said what he wants to say, and she agrees with him. 

 “You know,” she says, “you’ve known me as long as they have.” 

 “Aye, I know.” 

 “And you love me more.” 

 He clears his throat. “That can’t be true, love.” 

 “And yet, it is,” she laughs. “It’s okay, I like it. I’ve spent more time with you than I have them. I have more of a connection with you than I do with them, in a few ways,” she says with a chuckle, smirking and kissing him softly. 

 “Emma--” 

 “I spent my whole life craving a certain type of love from a certain type of person. I always thought it would be from the people who gave me up, but it turns out I was wrong. The person I was looking for was the person who would love me over everything. The one who would put me above everything. My parents did the right thing when they gave me away, but they still gave me away. You’ve never given up on me, Killian. All my life, I’ve been searching for this person, and I found you.”

 All he can do is hope that the look in his eyes as he stares at her conveys the depth of what he’s feeling for her. She tells him things like this quite frequently, her comfort with him evident as she continues to open up. When they met, she was an open book, although the stories were written in another language. Now, nearly four years later, he’s fluent. 

 Finally, after much silence passes between them-- too much, considering her family is still just above them-- he sighs and fiddles with her hair once more. He’s said his piece now, able to get off his chest the anger and fear that he felt, but with Emma’s heartfelt confession, he feels a need to clarify some things. 

 “Your life as a child who was, well--”

 “An orphan,” she tells him firmly. 

 “An orphan. It seems rather impossible. I just can’t imagine how hard that must have been, and how much strength it must have taken just to grow up.”

 With a soft, sad smile, she nods. “Why do you think I don’t want kids?” she asks with a shrug. 

 His fingers dance along the soft skin of her temple, drawing trails down the side of her face and to the back of her neck before he pulls them together and kisses her lips gently. “It’s… It’s alright for that to be the reason, love,” he starts, hopeful that he can actually get his point across successfully. “But I just want you to know… I mean… you have a reason, but you certainly don’t need one.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 “I mean not wanting a child is enough of a reason for you not to have one. I know you struggled growing up, and you fear you could subject a child to a similar fate, but you would also have the right to make this decision even if that wasn’t the case.” 

 She leans in close to him, their foreheads touching and her nose bumping his, and she whispers, “I know. And I know that if we had one, we would love it and everything but… we’re enough,” she shrugs. 

 “We are.” 

 “Are you sure?” 

 With a tender, lingering kiss to her lips, he whispers, “What we have is perfect. You and Ripple are all that I need. A baby would add to what we are together, but it’s not something that I need to feel fulfilled. It wouldn’t complete us because we’re already complete.” 

 She sighs softly and nods, kissing him again. “Okay, good. I agree.”

 “I’m glad.” His hands cup her cheeks as gently as they can, all of the love he has for his wife washing through his palms and into her skin. “I love you more than anything,” he promises her. 

 “I love you more than everything.” 

 “Cheeky scoundrel, you are.” 

 “For you, babe.” 

 “When did you start calling me babe?” 

 She silences him with one more kiss, deep and passionate as their lips meld together and their tongues tangle briefly, before she pulls away from him with a salacious grin and stands up. “Come on,” she insists, holding out her hand. “My family is probably wondering what we’re up to down here. 

 He catches the small, genuine smile that graces her whole face, brightening her eyes as she says family. 

 ~~~~

 Dinner that evening is awkward. Despite having an unsuccessful day as far as fishing is concerned, they decided to call it a day and turn in early. The tension on the boat was too high, a conversation desperately necessary but not conducive to their environment. He needs to apologize to her father, he realizes, but he struggled to find the ability to do so while trying to captain his vessel. 

 When they got into the harbor and docked, they decided to go for dinner out rather than finding something to cook either on the boat or in her parents’ hotel room. The small local restaurant they came across just beside the harbor is quiet enough, the atmosphere relaxed and quaint, but it still feels too awkward to bring up his outburst of anger, no matter how justified it was. 

 Finally, after they'd each finished a glass of wine and gotten refills, he clears his throat. “Dave,” he says with little conviction. He scratches behind his ear, noting the way Emma’s left brow raises expectantly, and takes a swig from his glass. “I, uh, I’d like to discuss earlier.”

 Her father clears his throat just the same as he had, pressing his lips together and earning a startlingly familiar look from his own wife. “So would I.” 

 Without making eye contact, he nods, trying to find the right words. “It’s come to my attention that I may have gotten a bit angry.”

 David raises a brow, purses his lips as he stares down at the fish that KIllian can’t believe he has the ability to eat, and nods. “Me too.”

 The silence that consumes their table is deafening, the restaurant suddenly seeming far too noisy against the stiffness between himself and David. Perhaps this will be enough, he thinks. Although, he’s proven wrong easily. Dropping her fork dramatically and rolling her eyes, Emma exclaims, “Are you both serious?” 

 “My thoughts exactly,” her mother agrees. “Do men not talk about their feelings, ever?” 

 “No,” Leo laughs. 

 Her mouth is agape as she stares between them, each of them looking to her as if hoping for guidance in how she wants them to move forward. “You’re both being idiots,” she accuses, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head. “Just tell each other that you’re sorry, Jesus Christ. What are you, toddlers?” 

 “Sorry?!” her father exclaims in outrage. “What do I have to be sorry for? Your husband screamed at me!” 

 “Because you didn’t listen to an order and almost got her killed!” 

 “I think you’re forgetting that I know what I'm doing when I’m out there, Jones. You don’t need to have a power trip with me.” 

 “I think you’re forgetting, I’m the bloody captain.” He’s seething, leaning forward into the table and resting his elbows on the hard surface. 

 “Shut up!” Her voice is too loud for the quiet space, but truthfully, her words are necessary. “Dad, I know you were scared, and maybe you took that fear out on Killian. But he was scared, too, and he did the same thing. And Killian, I know you gave an order, but he didn’t hear you. So if both of you could chill out and stop blaming each other for something that didn’t even happen, that would be great.” 

 Killian stays quiet, his jaw tense and his teeth grinding together with too much force. She’s right, of course, they’re being childish. She had already tried to tell him that there’s no one to blame, and here he is blaming her father. It’s unnecessary, an excuse for him to ignore his fears a bit more. So he clears his throat again. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I was afraid I was going to lose her and I took it out on you.”

 David takes in a deep breath and leans away from the table, the tension loosening slightly, and says, “I’m sorry, too. I did the same thing.” 

 In a moment of boldness, he says, “Although, it does feel like you’ve been doubting my ability to provide for her since we met, and it honestly feels like you aren’t in support of our marriage.”

 He sees Emma squeeze her eyes shut, her hand cupping her forehead, but she makes no attempt to stop the exchange from taking place. Mary Margaret stiffens, so does Leo, and David takes a moment before even considering an answer. 

 “Killian,” her mother starts, placing her hand over his in an attempt at being comforting. It works, a bit. “Emma, are you feeling that way, too?

 Though she’s clearly on the spot, Emma looks up from the table’s surface and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. I know you guys love us and support us, but he’s right. Sometimes it feels like you doubt we’ll make it.”

 David sighs and shakes his head. “That’s never been our intention.” 

 “We both believe in each other, in our marriage, but to always have you in our ears about how Killian’s older, and his job is dangerous, and how I need stability… It feels like you don’t trust us to take care of ourselves or each other. And now Killian’s doubting himself and blaming himself for something that he shouldn’t be.” 

 She’s honest, almost too honest, and the tension is back. 

 David’s eyes seek the ceiling, his jaw tight before he says again, “It’s not our intention. I’m sorry that we’re making you both feel that way.” 

 Wiping at her eyes, Mary Margaret says, “Emma, honey, we just… we worry about you. We want to make sure that you’re getting everything you need and that you’re well taken care of, and we put pressure on Killian. I’m sorry.” 

 “I know that,” she answers in exhaustion, shaking her head. “I know you guys are putting pressure on yourselves, too, to make sure that I have a good life now that I'm here with you. But I do have a good life. I need you to trust that Killian and I have the best life I could possibly imagine.”

 “We know,” Mary Margaret says softly, her head casting down. 

 “We don’t need different jobs, or a bigger house, or… or kids. We’re perfect just like this.” 

 There’s quiet across the table now, each of them seeming to settle and relax a bit with the truth out between them. It’s not like this isn’t something he and Emma have discussed-- they’ve talked at length several times about how her parents have a need to care for her. But having the words spoken aloud, having Emma ask them to tone it down, feels freeing. 

 “We’re sorry,” David finally says after a few moments of peace. “I’m sorry. I know I’m hard on you, Killian. I worry about my little girl too much, and it’s not fair for me to put that on you.” 

 It’s a big step. Truthfully, it almost takes Killian by surprise, considering the two of them couldn’t even look at each other a few moments ago. But now, David has acknowledged why he’s so upset, and he’s apologized for it. Her mother, too. Honestly, just them recognizing that this is the way they’ve been feeling is enough, even if they continue to doubt him. 

 “I don’t intend to let her down,” he finally says, earning a soft smile from her. “I-- Emma’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll do anything I can to keep her safe. Always.” 

 She squeezes his hand and she bites her bottom lip, releasing it so that she can smile once more. “I love you,” she says softly for only him to hear. To her mother, she says, “I love him, okay? I’m fine; we’re fine. I promise.”

 ~~~~

 The trip home has been a long one, her father constantly making jokes about how he’s driving that make him absolutely mad, although he knows them to be in jest. He taught Leo how to captain, showing him the ropes now that he’s used to the controls, so with only a few hours before they make port in Storybrooke, he’s able to meet his stunning, sundrenched wife on the deck of his beloved vessel. She tries to sunbathe, although it’s becoming colder and colder the further north they travel, so she’s wrapped in her blanket rather than lying atop it. 

 “Hey babe,” she smiles, tipping her sunglasses off of the bridge of her nose. 

 “Hi babe.”

 The face she makes is priceless, her nose scrunching in disgust as she shakes her head. “No, don’t call me that. It’s all wrong.”

 “And what shall I call you, if you can call me babe and I can’t?” he asks as he sits beside her and presses a kiss to her temple. 

 “You can call me… Darling, or my love, or the best thing that’s ever happened to me…”

 “Those are my options?” 

 “Take ‘em or leave ‘em.” 

 His arms wrap around her easily, pulling her against him until she wriggles herself on top of him. They lie down, Killian on his back and his love resting across his chest, and he sighs happily. “Well, my love,” he starts, his fingers scratching against her scalp until she sighs and melts into him. “It seems to have been a successful season after all.” 

 “Just like I told you.”

 “Aye.”

 “You should listen to your wife, Jones.” 

 “I suppose you’re right, Swan.”

 “It’s Jones, Jones,” she says softly, kissing his neck just above the hem of his sweater. 

 “My mistake, darling,” he almost whispers.

 They’re quiet, so relaxed as they lie together, the swell of the ocean rocking them into a sense of serenity. Her breath is warm as it washes over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine as they travel north, back into the northeast winter. He pulls the blanket they share higher so that it covers her shoulders, and she hugs herself closer to him.

 “Are you okay?” she asks softly after a while, her voice barely audible over the waves. 

 “Aye, are you? Are you cold?” 

 “No,” she shakes her head against his chest, “You're nice and toasty. But that’s not what I meant. I meant are you... okay?” 

 With a soft and understanding sigh, he nods. “Overall a successful season, my love, just like you’d predicted.” 

 “And you didn’t even gaff anyone,” she says with a grin he can hear through her voice. 

 “Well, no one messed up my boat.” 

 She laughs softly and squeezes her arms around him once more. “And you beat out those southern assholes.” 

 He chuckles and lets his fingers trail up her spine over his sweatshirt. He caught more than anyone else, earning more money and respect, along with a target on his back for next year. If he comes back, he’ll have to be careful to ensure that he succeeds once again.

 “I’m glad we… I mean, we got a lot out in the open. Things feel simpler now.” 

 She nods and kisses the small patch of hair that peeks out from beneath his sweater. “I know, I feel it too. It’s like things have finally settled down, ya know?”

 “Aye. Like we don’t have anything to worry about now.” 

 “Yeah.” 

 More time passes and the gentle hum of the motor lulls them as they skip over wave after wave.

 “I love you,” he says softly, cutting through the comfortable silence lying between them. If he could whisper and she’d hear him, he would. 

 “I love you, too, babe. More than anything.” 

 He moves his hand from her back to the side of her face, the side that’s exposed to the chilled air rather than tucked against his chest. He lets his fingers trace gentle patterns along her temple until she presses up to look at him, her eyes fluttering shut as he cups her cheek. “God, how I love you, best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers. 

 She giggles and leans in, fusing her lips to his, their kiss pure and longing as she deepens it. She lets her hands cradle his head and hold him to her, her tongue sliding out of her own mouth and along the line of his bottom lip before she nips at it. With his hands beneath the blanket that conceals them from the wind and the sea spray, he squeezes her ass and pulls her hips down onto his, drawing a needy moan from the back of her throat. 

 She breaks away from him for just a second, taking in a deep breath without opening her eyes before she leans in again and meets him once more. With a whimper as he bucks his hips up into hers, he lets his hand begin to wander beneath the thick fabric covering her curves. 

 Her family is here, far too close for comfort, but even so, he thinks he would risk terminal embarrassment in favor of being with her if not for the rude interruption. They hear their angel, their Ripple, barking loudly from the rear deck, Leo unable to console her as she argues with the dolphins that greet her from beneath the water. Eventually, he calls for his sister for support, hopeful that Emma’s presence will calm the beast so that she doesn’t leap overboard. 

 Emma groans, breaking away from him and dropping her forehead against his in frustration. “Dammit,” she whispers. “I totally would have fucked you, too.” 

 He snorts, shaking his head and kissing her once more, and says, “I’m sure that’s true. I suppose we’ll just have to wait until we get home.” 

 She smiles softly as she presses another kiss to his mouth and says, “Know what’s funny?” When he hums in question, she continues, “We’ve been married for three years, but it still feels like we’re in our newlywed phase.” 

 He smirks, slapping her ass one more time as she moves to get off of him, and says, “I think we should stay in it.”

 “Agreed.” 

 Apparently, their agreement is binding. He never does lose the absolutely need-driven desire to make love to his wife any chance he gets, no matter what they should be doing instead. No matter the things that could come between them, he loves her, and he’ll never tire of showing her any chance he gets. It’s enough, they’ve both realized. They're perfect. 

 The End

Tagging:

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[spiltscribbles]

The One Where No One Is Ready

~Notes: I’m reposting this because I deleted the series off of AO3 <3<3

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Send Me A Friends Storyline/Prompt  | ��A Reblog Means EVERYTHING!

.-

Their is T minus forty-five minutes until James is expected to enter the arena for this year’s Espy awards, where he— a longterm representative of the UK’s top athletes, with a social media following that can rival a B list celebrity’s— will be presenting the award for the best international football player, and rumor has it that Ludo fucking Bagman is going to win. This is a dream come true— more than that even! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!  And it was thanks to his mentor, Minerva McGonagall, that he even can do something that he’s dreamt of doing since his days playing in the child leagues as a lad. It’s going to be one of the best nights of his bloody life. So it only makes sense that his sodding best friends aren’t even taking this with an ounce of seriousness. In fact, instead of doing the decent thing and getting ready as efficiently as possible, those pricks are lounging over the breakfast table goading Sirius into drinking the fat from the icebox that Lily stored for whichever cooking masterpiece she is sure to whip up later this week. Not a one of them even showered.

Bloody blunders.

“Oi, Moons,” Sirius crows loudly, grinning wolfishly down at him with a glint in his steely eyes and a smirk on his face. “Promise if I chug this down you’ll give us a little kiss.”

James feels a migraine coming on.

“In your dreams Black,” Remus retorts,  wrinkling his nose disapprovingly, while Marlene only guffaws and James feels his head literally beginning to pulse with pure exasperation.

Absolute pricks..

“You gits, we’ve got less than an hour till we have to call the cabs. Will you all just get dressed for Christ’s sake.”

“No need for the snappy tone Prongs.” Sirius says with a cluck to his tongue.

“It’ll take us only a tick to get ready,” Remus says, waving him off airily. And James really regrets the fact that he’s moved in with Sirius now that James and Lily are in marital bliss. Sirius’s a bad influence on him, and James should’ve predicted as much.

“Besides, ’s not my fault your wife’s hogging the bathroom,” Marlene tacks on— having dashed over here after her shift at the same firm as James, still dressed in her slacks and leather jacket. 

“Well Marls, you don’t have to get your hair done now that you’ve chopped it off as short as your ears,” Lily defends herself as she steps out the aforementioned bathroom in James’s powder blue robe, thankfully her makeup is set and hair is pulled back into an artful bun and she’s as beautiful as ever. James can’t help but feel his insides go all goopy and his stomach begins to tumble every time she even looks his way, especially when she smiles that private little grin that she only uses on him.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph does he love her to his very core, tells her as much once kissing her softly amidst the groans of the other three. “You are my angel.”

“I know,” Lily preens, green eyes bright and dimples in full effect. “Now I’ve just got to pick out what to wear and we can go.”

James thanks her profusely before pivoting back around to Marlene, begs her to get on with it already.

“Alright, alright potter. God you men only like to rush, no time for foreplay.”

“I like foreplay,” Remus contends as he sits on the loveseat and begins flipping through a magazine Lily’s left laying around, which makes it so Sirius’s face goes wrecked and pale and very nearly makes the cup of fat in his hand fall to the ground— is only saved by James’s old footie reflexes.

“Get it the fuck together man,” James hisses with a glower. But then quickly amends, “But not tonight. Tonight just get dressed for fuck’s sake.” There is absolutely no time to deal with this melodrama between Sirius and Remus that basically amounts to heady glances and licked lips and sexual tension that’s frankly obscene.

Sirius swallows down, hard, and gives a perfunctory nod, but instead of walking across the hall to bloody change already, he only sits besides Remus and grins at him in a very scary, very intense way. James is almost convinced that poor Moony will end up naked and swaddled  in saran wrap— Dexter style— by the end of the night. But he can’t warn him considering that there’s a knock to the door and he finds Dorcas—

 beautiful and elegant in a pale yellow dress that contrasts in a lovely way against her dark brown skin— on the other side. “You look fantastic.” James breathes out, worshipingly.

“I know,” Dorcas beams as she struts in, helping herself to the pita crisps and hummus left out.  “But don’t let Marls hear you else she gets all pouty.”

“Do not!” Marlene yells from the loo, to which Dorcas only silently mouths, does so, over James’s shoulder to a snickering Sirius.

“Right, well seeing as the ladies are all accounted for, we’re just waiting for Wormtail and you berks,” he points angrily at the pair now arguing over the remote. 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Minnie can be left waiting,” Sirius snorts.

“Our table is at the very front Pads! She’ll see us walking in late! And then they might give my slot to that prick Mulciber!”

“A travesty,” Sirius intones.

“He might be on to something Pads,” Remus points out.  “It takes an hour just for you to primp your hair.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day Moony!”

“Are you implying that your hair is as extravagant as Rome? Because I think you might be seriously over estimating yourself.” Remus leers, and Sirius only gapes at the lip. God, if James has to watch them dancing around each other for another day he’s going to go rudding gray at the temples.

“You are a plonker Lupin!” Remus narrowly avoids Sirius’s punch aimed for his shoulder, and scurries off across the hall, Sirius’s gaze never leaving his arse all the while.

“That’s lewd,” Dorcas tells him.

“Pitiful from where I’m looking at it.” James snorts.

Sirius only glowers and tosses them the bird. “Come off it.”

“I bet you’d like to come off with’m.” Dorcas sneers, and James actually let’s himself laugh at the increasingly reddening face Sirius has just pulled in retort. Thankfully, none of his curses have a chance to spill out because of Peter strolling in— clad in a suit that’s a little short on the legs  and a little tight in the middle. But he looks presentable at least, which is more than what Sirius could say.

“What’s wrong Pete?” Dorcas asks him as she perches on the armrest of the sofa.

“What do you mean what’s wrong? He’s dressed. He’s brilliant!” James beams, clapping him on the shoulder, noticing a beat too late how Peter’s acting a bit dodgy— hands rinsing in front of him and eyes darting every which way.

“I messaged Marry.”

“Oh Pete.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Why the fuck would you do that!”

The three of them chorus in various tones of disappointment.

“She, erm. Well She posted this picture of her at home with her puppy and I saw a sweater.”

“A sweater?” Sirius repeats, wry as all get out.

“A man’s sweater I mean.”

Dorcas rolls her eyes at him now. “Sweaters don’t have genders Peter.”

“Well this one did!” Peter fumes indignantly. 

James raises his hands, as if he’s calming a spooked animal. “All right, all right. It was a man’s sweater. What did you message her bout it?”

Peter ducks his head once more, flushing pink. “I asked if her new boyfriend is as allergic to Pippa as I was.” Queue another round of discontent moaning.

“You bloody imbecile.” Sirius groans.

“It all just happened so quickly!”

“Things Sirius’s conquests say on their walk of shame for a thousand Alex,” Remus snickers as he steps back inside, fitted in an admittedly fetching, charcoal suit and a different colored tie in each of his hands. “Oh, you all look shifty.”

“Don’t ever criticize my shagging prowess again Lupin!”

“Peter made a mess of things with Marry,” Dorcas says before Sirius can get on one of his tangents.

“Oh Pete.” 

“It happened so quickly,” he tries to explain once more.

Remus only shakes his head and pats his shoulder agreeably. “Sure it did.”

“Well did she read it yet?” Dorcas asks.

“Erm, she was online when I sent her the snap.”

“Oh Peter,” they all groan.

“I need a minute.” He says before retreating to the balcony.

James checks his watch, exactly a half an hour until they all have to go. No time for Peter’s dramatics. Maybe tomorrow James’ll buy him a pint and let him cry over it but they really need to get on with things already.

“C’mon pads, get up.” Remus instructs, trying to tug him off the couch, to which Sirius only smirks.

“You forfeited when you got up Lupin.”

“Oi! I got up to get dressed so James wouldn’t go barmy on us!”

“And I thank you Remus my sweet.” James pipes in while handing Marlene her bag of clothes she had left by the table.

“Pshaw, doesn’t matter. You left it.”

“I left for like five bloody minutes you arse!” Remus shouts.

“So you agree then,” Sirius counters with a cocked brow. “You left it.”

James has to deftly pull Remus away before he pounces on him. “Padfoot don’t be a wanker and just get up and get dressed, won’t you.”

Sirius eyes them both before a look James can’t decipher passes across his face, leaving behind a grim determination. “Righto mates.” He leaps up right then, snatching the cushions up with him, and  swaggering off.

“Oi! What the hell Padfoot!”

“I gave you the seat Lupin.”

“But— But—“ Remus sputters. “You took the  cushions! That’s the entire ruddy essence of the seat!”

“That’s right Lupin!” Sirius glows with far too much smugness for the situation at hand. “I took your essence!”

Remus is left balking after him and James promptly chugs down a handful of Ibuprofen.

“All right boys?” Marlene asks as she strolls out the bathroom in her black dress and heals, pecking Dorcas hello..

“I’m going to murder Sirius bloody Black with my bare hands,” Remus answers, fists tight around his ties and his face scrunched up mulishly.

“I’ll help!” Dorcas crows, before beaming at Lily who’s just clambered in— half dressed with a shawl  in one hand and a different blouse entirely in the other.

“Do you guys reckon I should wear this with my purple pumps, or those new flats I got with a nice pair of slacks.”

“Lily, my love, the angel of my heart, the stars of my night,” James begins, a hand against his chest. “We’ve got twenty-seven minutes till we have to be downstairs.”

“Oh I know love, I just want to look nice for you and your big night,” she says poutingly, kisses his cheek before glancing over at the girls. “Wotcher Dorcas, you and Marlene look lovely.”

“I know,” Dorcas preens.”

“You’re in a jaunty mood?”

“She’s helping Lupin murder Black later tonight,” Marlene explains, lips curled with laughter. 

“Oh lovely.”

“I’ll show him essence,” Remus growls from where he’s still holding vigil to the shut door.

James rolls back his head now, eyes alone definitely not cutting it anymore. “Damn everything.”

“Oh Re you look so smart in that suit,” Lily crows, walking over to him, but begins to cluck her tongue. “But neither of those ties match.”

Sirius used the rest of my ties to use as a rope for his halloween costume last month.”

“Of course he did.”

“He’s dead Lily.”

Lily smooths back his hair dotingly. “Sure he is darling, now c’mon. James has got a wonderful velvet tie that would look ravishing with this fit.” Remus lets Lily drag him away while Still muttering about Sirius and essences and the god forsaken guillotine of all things.

“There’s a video!” Peter shouts as he rushes back inside— blonde hair mussed and cheeks reddening as bright as Lily’s hair.

“Bloody hell Peter!” Marlene scolds, hand pressed to her chest. “Don’t be a git and scare us like that.”

Peter only repeats the fact that there’s a video— of what? James does not know nor does he want to find out. God he just wants them to act mentally sound for one damn night.

“A video!”

“Settle yourself Peter,” Dorcas scolds, a hand on her hip and a scowl twisting her pretty face. James reckons that if she were his history teacher in secondary school he might’ve actually been scared enough not to fall asleep. “Now explain yourself.”

“Mary posted a video of Pippa rolling over and there was a bloke in the background laughing along!”

“You saw a random bloke?” Marlene asks.

“No but I heard’m! Clear as day.”

Dorcas sighs, clamping a hand over his shoulder in solace. “Eh, think logically Peter, you lot only split up a couple weeks ago. I seriously doubt Mary’s gone off and shagged someone else so soon.”

“But I heard’m! Maybe she finally realized she could do better.”

“Oh none of that bollocks Peter Pettigrew.” Marlene bellows, joining her girlfriend to stand in front of him now. “Oi, wasn’t she close with that younger brother of her’s?”

Before Marlene’ even finished asking the question, Peter’s worried expression melts away, brightening ten fold and beginning to  grin like an absolute lune. “Oi McKinnon! You bloody genius! Your right! It’s Marcus! It’s definitely Marcus!”

“Brilliant!” James hurriedly interjects, the time ticking down to only twenty minutes left. “It was obviously, certainly Marcus this entire time. Now why don’t you be a doll Peter and call us the cabs, I don’t want to risk not grabbing one in time. Especially in this miserable weather.”

Peter nods cheerily, picking up his mobile and idly noting that he’s begun to feel a bit peckish.

“There’s some fat in the fridge if you want,” Marlene calls after him, her snickering dining down once the front door to the flat swings open to a harried looking Sirius. James is about ready to row considering that the only notable differences seem to be the fact he’s no longer wearing his DR Martens and his hair’s even more disheveled than before.

“Where is Lupin!”

“Oi, Black! Not the bloody time for your little lovers quarrel.” James snaps.

“He took my pants!”

“Pardon?” Dorcas wheezes with pure delight.

“That sodding little slag stole my pants!”

“You stole my essence!” Remus bellows, storming back into the main room, shirtless and heated. James almost feels bad for Sirius who’s gone all flushed and blotchy at the sight.

“Remus! No, no, no! Why are you getting undressed! We want you all to be fully damn clothed!”

“Oh, that was my doing,” Lily pipes in, thankfully clad in a lovely, green number that brings out her eyes. “I thought that if Remus changed into one of your white undershirts that it’ll help accentuate  the purple tie.”

James really wishes he could stay properly angry at Lily for longer than a second at a time so that he can rebuke them for this little dress up game. But alas, he simply can not, so he’s only left to nod like a daft idiot at her explanation.

“And then I smelt rubbish and so I knew Sirius had returned.” Remus snarls.

“I smell like a fucking field of daisies!”

“Bet your trousers won’t smell that way after an entire  night pantsless,” Remus sneers, and James silently  reminds himself never to cross the scrappy bugger, (It’s always the quiet ones indeed).

“That’s not on Moony! I don’t want to have my bits out for show, everyone will be focussed on their magnificence over poor Jem and his little presenting gig.”

Heatedly, James tosses him the bird.

“Then give me back the essence!” Remus retorts caustically.

“Fine Lupin, you want to play it this way. Game on!” With one final, haughty harumph, Sirius dashes over to his own apartment and Remus only scoffs as he rounds back to the bedroom. 

“What does that even mean! Absolutely nothing that’s what! Damn arse!” Remus grumbles to himself, slamming the door shut after Lily follows, still barefoot herself.

Discretely, James checks his watch once more, feeling a looming sense of dread once realizing that there’s only fifteen minutes left until they have to be out the door.

“Hiya Marcus,” James swings his head up so quickly that he swears he’s got vertigo, but at least Dorcas and Marlene look just as concerned from where they’re also gawking at Peter. “I just wanted to see if you were in town— Oh yeah, yeah. I thought I heard you on the back of that last video Mary posted.”

“Hang up Pettigrew!” Marlene hisses, trying to grab for the phone and is elbowed out the way for her trouble.

“Oh yeah, she did block e after the whole snag with me running over her cat. But you know how it is, making a fake account— Oh, erm I didn’t think it was that weird really.”

“Hang up Peter!” James yells, feeling absolutely hopeless. “Hang up the damn mobile!”

“I know plenty of people who do that! No need to get all shirty!” Peter hisses at Marcus, the color slowly draining out of his face. “No, no you don’t need to tell Maz, ’s not that serious!”

“I need a bloody shot.” Dorcas moans.

“What’s happened?” Remus asks from where he and Lily stroll out the bedroom, fully dressed thank god and both glancing over at a sweating Peter with concern.

“Mary’s surely going to getting a restraining order,” Marlene says with no context, shrinking back when the flat’s door opens once more to Sirius.

“You mad wanker,” James breathes out, not even having enough wits about him to shout. Sirius is standing there, absolutely drowning in countless sweaters pulled up over one another and sweat pants over sweat pants.

“What the bloody hell are you doing!” Remus screams.

“You take my pants, and I wear all your clothes Lupin,” Sirius grins glowingly, eyes glinting with pure mischief.

“You’re going to stretch them all out you absolute beast!”

 “I’ve got to say Moons, your sweats are real comfortable without any pants, nice and soft.” Sirius does a forward lunge right then, wiggling around for good measure. So James really shouldn’t be surprised when Remus actually pounces, knocking him over to the ground.

“My money’s on Lupin, the scrappy bugger,” Marlene cackles.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Peter groans, slamming his head against the table, while Sirius and Remus continue to writhe on the ground like a pair of bloody mutts in heat.

“Get it together you plonkers! We need to leave in ten minutes!”

“He, oof, he took my essence!”

Sirius beams victoriously when he finally gets Remus beneath him and pulls up for breath, “You took my pants before I ever did that Lupin.” 

“Because you’re a insufferable  berk!” Remus hisses, wiggling around and canting forwards, both his and Sirius’s faces going suddenly red, and James shutters to think of what might’ve slid up against each other to elicit that response. Though his imagination is buoyed when Sirius suddenly rocks forwards in a very deliberate way, his head dipping down closer to Remus and it’s like instinct when their lips devour one another’s smolderingly, Remus’s hands fisted in Sirius’s hair, and Sirius’s own sliding around to cup his arse cheeks.

“Oh for bloody hell,” James snarls, absolutely fed up. He grabs the cup of discarded fat and pours it on the pair of them, making it so they both jump apart in a flash— panting breaths and flushed cheeked and both of the sporting obvious hard ons— even through the layers that Sirius has got on.

“You lot have got eight minutes and thirty five seconds to get it the bloody hell together, change into something respectable and then meet me downstairs,” James instructs, seething and brooking no arguments.  “Now disperse damn it!”

.-

They end up fifteen minutes late, and McGonagall just gives James a cool glance above her flute of wine as they scramble to the table, but it’s fine, because James gets to shake Ludo Bagman’s hand and everything while up on stage— Even if Remus and Sirius make a conspicuous retreat to the gents the moment he sits back down and don’t meet up with everyone until after the ceremony ends.

James repeats, bloody blunders.

.-

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[venhedish]

Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells..  .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed.  It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue.   But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out?  .

In Sanguine Vita Est   ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different?  .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

 I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

 Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. . 

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (6/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

ao3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

August

“I come bearing food.”

No one responds, and Emma knows there has to be at least five people in this house. And while David and Mary Margaret live in a really nice place thanks to Mary Margaret’s dad, it’s not so big that no one can hear her when she walks in the front door.

“Hello?” she repeats, shifting the bags of food in her arms. She’s got approximately eight hundred pounds of appetizers in her car, and she needs help carrying them in. “Hello, it’s me, the lowly caterer. Should I have used a separate entrance than the front, or is someone as lowly as me allowed to use that one? What if the neighbors see?”

Still, no answer, and Emma walks down the hallway until she’s in the kitchen. Every inch of the countertop is covered with food, drinks, cutlery, and the works. It’s an organized mess, much like Mary Margaret herself, and Emma puts the bags she’s carrying on the kitchen table before looking out the window to the pool.

“Oh my God,” she whispers to herself. “Like, oh my God.”

Killian Jones is standing on the pool house roof with what looks like garland or bubble lights or some kind of string object, and David is standing below him to...catch him. It looks like David is there to catch Killian.

Emma pushes open the French double doors and steps outside. “What the hell is happening here?”

Killian drops one of the strings he’s holding, causing David to move to catch it, and Emma swears she sees Killian’s life flash before her eyes before he catches himself on the flattest part of the roof.

“Bloody hell, Swan,” he gasps, out of breath, “warn a man.”

“Consider yourself warned.” She closes the door behind her and crosses her arms over her chest. It’s ridiculously hot out today, and she can already feel the sweat gathering down her back and underneath her bikini top. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Ah, well,” Killian starts as he picks up the dropped string of lights and starts adjusting them again, “I ran into Dave here at the market, we got to talking, and since I had nothing else to do, I’ve agreed to risk my life to hang his lights.”

“He’s more nimble than I am,” David says, like that explains all of this.

“Trust me, mate, Emma knows that.”

“Oh my God,” Emma whispers to herself as Killian and David keep talking, not paying her any attention.

Emma opens the door back and steps inside, away from the madness. She doesn’t know what’s happening out there, and she doesn’t want to know. Some things are better left not talked about or questioned, and this is definitely one of those things. She knows her friends all know Killian. The night at the bar where he met Mary Margaret and Ruby really snowballed things, and it’s fine. It is. She swears it’s fine. Except.

Except, well, they usually never meet the people she’s sleeping with. They’ve met her boyfriends, if only because it was nearly impossible to keep them away after so long, and they liked...Graham. They really liked Graham, not so much the others, and Emma feels the exact same way. But her casual flings, like with Killian, her friends don’t meet them. They don’t meet them, and they really don’t invite them to their big almost end of summer parties. They don’t ask them to help hang they string lights and get ice. She bets they asked him to get ice.

What is happening?

This is…this is a lot, and Emma doesn’t know how to feel about it.

She doesn’t know how to feel about a lot of things, mostly Killian Jones, but there are other things included in there. Those things just aren’t quite so in her face.

Shit.

When Mary Margaret invited him to the party a few weeks ago, Emma was fine with it. It’s just a party. There are going to be a lot of people here, and what was the harm in inviting one more? Besides, it’s not like she could have said no when Mary Margaret asked. That would have been rude, and despite what a few select people say, Emma is not rude.

Emma picks at a grape on the counter, popping it in her mouth, and then gets another one as she watches David and Killian outside. Killian takes another string of lights from David and hooks them over a nail on the roof.

He’s different from her past few flings. They’re usually as big of a mess as she is, and while she assumes Killian is as well, she doesn’t know enough about him to truly know. They’ve got a pretty good deal with their one personal question of the day thing. She knows it’s usually more than that, little things coming out in bed or when he stops by the Blue Dog, but she has comfort in being able to veto any question that gets a little too personal.

If Emma could have a veto in most things in life, it’d be a hell of a lot easier.

Emma grabs another grape and then starts unpacking the food she brought. Mary Margaret must have run to the store to get something else, but Emma knows how she’ll want to arrange things. She’s been to enough Nolan parties to know what happens. If she focuses on this, she’ll be able to ignore the man outside and all the pesky little thoughts in her head.

“Swan,” Killian says from behind her, and Emma lets out a little curse. “What are you doing, love?”

“Helping out in the air conditioning instead of outside.”

He hums and steps up behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as his scruff scratches her neck. It’s a contrast to the softness of his lips that are running down the side of her throat. Arousal rises in her veins, quick like lightning, and it continues when one of his hands glides down her body and cups her ass as he presses against her.

“Killian,” she whispers, biting her bottom lip, “this is not the place for this.”

“What? Your friends’ kitchen isn’t the place for us to have a little fun?”

“No,” she laughs as she tilts her neck to give him more space, “it’s not. They may know we’re sleeping together, but I don’t think they want to witness it.”

He laughs and twists her around. His fingers skim her collarbone, lifting up the strap of her bikini. “I like this.”

“You’re such a man.” She pushes against his chest and moves away, going back to arranging the charcuterie boards. Multiple. “I’m sorry David roped you into helping. You could have said no.”

“It’s fine. Can I help you in here?”

She wants to say no, to send him back outside, but it might be nice to have company that’s okay sitting in silence with her. The rest of the day is going to be filled with people celebrating the near end of summer, even if it tends to linger for another month midway into September, and Emma could use a little quiet time before the chaos.

“If you could slice those apples for me, that would be great.”

“Aye, love, no problem.”

They work in silence setting up the boards. Killian catches on quickly, copying her arrangements, and eventually Mary Margaret comes home with more fruit and cheese and a car full of hamburger buns. She takes one look at the mess in her kitchen, has a bit of a meltdown, but then Ruby shows up with Mulan and it all starts coming together enough for everything to calm down.

For about five minutes before the neighbors start showing up with their own food and alcohol, and suddenly all the quiet, familiar voices are drowned out by loud new ones. Emma pours herself a glass of lemonade and sinks into a corner of the kitchen before moving outside. It’s miserably hot, the sun warming her skin immediately, but she knows it’ll cool soon. Until then, she finds her spot in a rattan chair in the shade, curling her legs up with her, and she watches as more and more people begin to filter in.

Emma doesn’t know how any two people have this many friends. She keeps a small circle, and they’ve been around for years. She’s slow to trust after spending her entire childhood in foster care, and while she likes to think her past doesn’t define her, she knows sometimes it does. Right now, when she’s cornering herself off while everyone else is having fun, she knows it’s a time where some old demons are knocking at the unlocked door waiting to get in.

She twists the lock and tells them to go away. She doesn’t need this today.

Ruby jumps into the pool, splashing everyone around her, and Emma laughs to herself. Ruby is one of the people that’s allowed in her head, and sometimes when Emma thinks her life is falling apart, she remembers being eighteen years old, desperate for food and a place to stay, and Ruby and Granny taking her in. they gave her a job and a place to stay because Ruby told Granny she would throw a fit if she didn’t take Emma in. So, it was a threat, sure, but it worked.

It’s good. Emma’s life is good. It’s messy and confusing, but it’s good.

Mostly.

Killian walks toward her, tilting his head in question, and she nods, scooting over on the cushion to give him room. Killian takes it, his thigh warm against hers, and then offers her a beer.

“No thanks. Not quite late enough in the day for me to want something to drink. I’ve got to save it all for when David starts telling the bad jokes once he’s finished cooking and can get plastered.” Killian chuckles then puts the bottle down on the grass. “What? You don’t want it either?”

“No.” He wraps his arm around her, letting it lightly fall on her shoulder. His fingertips pull on the ends of her hair, and a shiver runs down her spine. She’s always loved when people play with her hair. “It’s too early for me to be drinking as well. I try to stay away from the stuff when I can.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Have you now?”

Emma nods and leans a little further into him. She shouldn’t. This all feels a little too couple-like, but she does anyway. “You tend not to drink and when you do, you’re very calculated. You don’t just drink a bunch of wine like I will. It’s almost like you measure it out, literally.”

Killian clicks his tongue and yanks on her hair a little more before he draws his nail over the bare skin of her arm. He doesn’t answer, though. He stays silent, so Emma pulls her legs up and curls into herself while staying next to Killian. Ruby is jumping in the pool again, and Mary Margaret is walking around the pool with a platter of appetizers Emma brought from the Blue Dog.

When Killian still doesn’t answer, Emma decides to change the subject.

“So, tell me, how did you end up being some kind of soccer superstar?”

Killian chuckles and scratches at his chin. “Ah, that’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time. I don’t plan on giving up this chair any time soon. And it’s my one legitimate personal question of the day, so answer or veto.”

His brow raises, like it’s tempting her to take back her statement. She doesn’t. She must be really good at asking the worst questions possible today. They never really talk about what he used to do for a living, mostly because she doesn’t care, but she never thought it would be a sensitive subject. Then again, she should know better. She’s got enough sensitive subjects herself.

She waits for the veto, but it never comes.

“My mum got me into it as something to do after school to keep me active, and I loved it, mostly because Liam, my brother, did it too.” Killian smiles, one of his more genuine ones, and Emma leans back to get a better look at him. She likes the little lines around his eyes much better than the ones around hers. “Long story short, I was bloody good, my father learned there was a way to bet on children’s matches, and he kept me in it to make money. I nearly quit when I found out about it, but then I was too invested in the camps and in training. I loved it, and by some miracle, I ended up being able to do it for a living. I got the dream.”

“So why’d you stop?”

He laughs, but she can tell he finds nothing about this funny, especially when his fingers tighten around her arm. “Well, my brother died, I fell apart, and by professional standards, I was too old to have any kind of time to redeem myself. I nearly drank myself to death, which answers your earlier question, so I’m careful about how much I consume now. That’s actually why I came here...to get away from it all.”

That was...that was much more than Emma was expecting, and she doesn’t know what to say. That’s a common theme in her life. She knows what she feels, but she doesn’t have a damn clue how to express it. So she leans over and wraps her arm around Killian, matching him, and presses up until she can slowly glide her lips over his. It’s soft and sweet, just a taste of how they usually kiss, and she knows it goes against every rule she has for herself.

He’s leaving soon.

This is okay because he’s leaving soon, and when they leave, Emma rarely has to worry about the consequences.

“I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a kid,” she says against his lips, foreheads pressed together. “I never took a class or owned a tutu, but all I wanted was to be able to do the Nutcracker dance because that’s what they did at the community theater. I didn’t have any money as a kid, and I just thought it was the most luxurious thing in the world.”

Emma pulls back. She can’t believe she said any of that, but she did. It’s out there, one tiny piece of the gigantic, five-thousand-piece puzzle that is her life.

“You would have made a hell of a ballerina with those legs of yours, Swan. What an apt last name as well. It could have been a match made in heaven.”

“Ha,” she scoffs, getting up from the chair. “You haven’t seen me dance. Unless it’s, like, in a club where all I really have to do is grind my body on a man, I can’t do it.”

“It’s easy. All you need is a partner who knows what he's doing.”

“And what if I want to be a soloist?”

His brows go up at that. “Well, then you need a teacher because apparently you make a poor excuse for a dancer.”

Killian stands from the chair, and in two quick steps, he’s next to her with his hands on her ass lifting her up. She doesn’t register what’s happening quickly enough for her legs to go dead, and by the time she’s in the air over his shoulder, she doesn’t care enough to fight what’s coming.

It’s a party, she reminds herself, might as well have a good time.

“Get my phone out of my back pocket before you throw me in, would ya?” she asks, and Killian slips his hand in and gets her phone. “Thank you. I’m totally getting back at you for this later.”

Killian stops as Ruby wolf whistles, Mary Margaret gasps, David chuckles, and everyone else starts whispering about whether or not Killian is actually going to throw her in.

He does.

The water is cold at first, like a shock to the system, but by the time she rises to the surface, it’s just the burst of energy that she needed. Killian is sitting at the edge of the water smirking, and yeah, she’s definitely got to get him back for this later.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[lochtayboatsong]

The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend.  I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?”  It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since.  I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.  

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen.  The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now.  But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.  

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song.  It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it.  Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone.  Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story.  Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back.  Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene.  Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about.  First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood.  The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad.  (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.)  One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time.  Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it.  After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time.  Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’”  And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son.  Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits.  LOVE IT.  Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.”  Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again.  It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.”  Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus.  If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus. 

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song.  Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show.  The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one.  Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave.  It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this.  But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.  

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome.  The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them.  Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show.  This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool.  Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it.  The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc.  Love it.  And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark.  I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes.  And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes.  (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.)  Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions.  A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves.  Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it.  It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes.  Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score.  Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way.  Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT.  John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.  

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions.  The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING.  Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition.  But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene.  Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that.  Case in point: King Herod.  There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.”  He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him.  In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE. 

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves.  Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly.  This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show.  Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.  

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production.  This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in.  The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power.  In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene.  Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course.  Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red.  Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.”  And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing.  Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial.  But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business. 

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show.  Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this.  There are soul singers.  There are girls in skimpy angel costumes.  The parkour guys from the prologue are back.  Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song.  And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So.  I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.  :)

[resident-of-storybrooke]

Nothing Good Happens After 2AM (Ch 4)

Rating: M (finally earning that for this chapter)

Words: 2900

Read: ao3, ff.net CH 1 CH 2 CH 3

Summary: Emma took Killian home for the holidays as a fake date. Things seemed to be going well…until it didn’t. What happens when two fools in love didn’t confess their love over the holidays like they planned and have to go back home to reality? This. This is what happened…(A twist on fake dating during the holidays)

AN: Well....shit lol here we finally are! I wish I had a good reason for the year and a half delay. Honestly, I got one not so great review and it shook me a bit and I was already iffy about writing. But thank you to so many incredible souls being so encouraging and supporting me to get back into writing. Thank you to @kmomof4​ who read all four chapters and edited them (make sure to check them out). I really hope you enjoy this last part as I’m so happy to finally have this out for you all. A very late and final contribution to @csjanuaryjoy

tagging some of the fam squad (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @carpedzem @nowforruin @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @thesschesthair @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @zaharadessert​ @stahlop​ @ultraluckycatnd @blowmiakisscolin​ @peggyswan​ @jrob64​ @klynn-stormz​​ @tiganasummertree​ @batana54​ @pirateprincessofpizza​​

ALL THE LOVE

Ruby made her way back up to the party, excited to see how the rest of the night would play out after her phone call to Emma. As she made her way back into Killian’s apartment she saw the Nolans as they gestured rather animatedly. Then Ruby rounded the corner and looked in to see who they were yelling at. 

Shit. 

It was Killian. 

And from the looks of it they were letting Killian have it. And he was just standing there taking it.  

What the hell did he get into in the last five minutes to warrant this? Ruby was both concerned, but mostly entertained because the sweet sunshine Charmings never yelled. She strolled into the kitchen with a grin, figuring she would enjoy the show. That was until the furious couple saw her - apparently she was their new target. 

“Ruby Elizabeth Lucas! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Ruby was confused to say the least. How the hell was she involved in... whatever this was? 

“Um...I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Bullshit, Ruby!” She was completely taken back, Mary Margaret never swore. “You just told me that Emma thought Killian was dating Elsa. And last time I checked Killian and Emma have been together for the last three months. So please, explain yourself. Now.”

“I feel like it’s not really my place,” she said, darting her eyes toward Killian, but she could tell no one was buying it. “Listen, Snow White and Prince Charming, your poor sister felt pressured to bring a date home for the holidays. She and Killian decided to go to Ruth’s and tell y’all they were dating so you’d back the hell off. And it worked and everything was fine. Then Elsa showed up and spooked Emma because she thought she lost her chance with him. Because shocker,” she looked fiercely at Killian and had to restrain herself from smacking him upside the head, “they’re both in love with each other and are being absolutely idotic and not telling the other the truth.” She turned back toward the stunned silent Charmings, “And you two are not helping the cause!”

Killian looked up in complete shock, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hair. The Nolans stood gaping at her, obviously not expecting her brutal honesty. 

“Listen,” Ruby took a deep breath. “Cut them some slack. You two were acting like Emma was going to turn into some crazy old spinster if she didn’t find a date soon. Also, you two act as though you are a literal fairytale couple.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to live up to your kind of love.”

As David stood in shock, Mary Margaret finally spoke up. “We went too far, didn’t we?” That’s when she turned to Killian. “We’re sorry, Killian. We shouldn’t have ever put you in this situation. We love you, we love Emma, and that wasn’t fair...I hope you can forgive our behavior this evening.”

Just as Killian was about to speak up, the door opened revealing an out of breath Emma Swan.

Emma was confused by the odd looks she was receiving as her welcome. She should be used to their bizarre behavior at this point, but this felt different. 

As she made her way over to the group her nerves set back in. She was here to tell Killian the truth. She was going to finally confess her love for her best friend. On his birthday. What could possibly go wrong?

“Right, well, this has been fun. Perhaps we should give these two some alone time.” Ruby elbowed the couple so Emma and Killian could have a moment.

As Emma walked towards Killian she finally took in her surroundings and realized how packed the apartment was. “I wish there were less people here…”

“Why, Swan? I love large parties, they’re so intimate. At small parties-”

“-there isn’t any privacy. I like it when you quote things to me.” Looking at him, she realized how close they were. She wasn’t even aware of her own movement toward him. Then she looked into his blue eyes. She missed them. 

She missed him. 

They stood there, taking each other in. It’d been weeks since they’d been together, really together. Neither one knew how to start. 

“Emma, you came.”

She wished in that moment she had something poetic to respond with, but that wouldn’t be Emma. “That’s what she said.”

The two instantly burst into laughter, the tension dying with every laugh. 

“I missed you, Swan.” Killian reached his hand out to tuck a loose strand behind her ear, Emma leaned into his touch. 

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry I ran…I wish I had a good excuse, but I don’t. I wanted to tell you so many times how I felt. I was going to tell you. On New Year's Eve. I was finally going to tell you. I had this whole plan. It was a good plan. And then Ruby fucking decided to be Chef Julia Child and give me food posioning. And then...I saw how happy you looked with Elsa and I thought, I thought, I’d lost my chance with you.” Emma finally found the courage to look up when she finished.

Killian’s eyes were full of unshed tears. When Emma opened her mouth to try and say something to break the tension Killian wrapped his arms around her. Emma finally took a breath. A breath she had been holding for weeks. He didn’t hate her. 

“Emma, my love, I promise nothing happened with Elsa. She was Liam’s fiance. She’s an old friend and nothing more. You though...you’re so much more than that. I’ve been a coward. I’ve hidden behind our friendship, behind the lie we told your family, and I will not do that any longer. I’ve had three words on the tip of my tongue since the night we met, I swear, and I will not waste another minute without you hearing them.”

Emma extracted herself from his grasp. “Before you do, I have something for you.” 

Killian lets out a sigh, “Really? Right now?”

Without another word Emma pulled the small red box from her clutch and handed it to Killian. He looked at her with curious eyes. “It’s your birthday, open the damn thing, Jones.”

“So demanding. Now what do we have here? It's a-” 

He stopped.  

Mistletoe. 

It was the most infuriating object that haunted his dreams - well, besides Emma. That trip to her home, the infernal garnish was everywhere. 

There was that kiss.

God, that kiss. He relieved it daily, prayed that it wasn’t the last kiss he’d ever share with Emma. Up until this moment he was convinced that would be the case.

“Well, Swan, this is quite the gift. I don’t know exactly what to say.” He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick they were both well aware of. 

“I, um, do you wanna see if it works?” Killian’s eyes shot up to Emma.

“Well, love, seems only right I try it out with you since you were the one that gave me such a generous gift. Shall we...”

Emma cut him off with a bruising kiss, it caught him a little off guard, but it only took a moment for him to catch up. Killian didn’t give a damn that there was a party going on around them. He finally had Emma in his arms. Emma’s hands wandered to the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life. Killian’s hands roamed down her sides before anchoring on her hips, holding her tightly against him. He cursed the fact that Emma was wearing a dress, even if she did look bloody gorgeous in the tight red piece. He couldn’t wait to have that blasted thing on his floor.

They finally broke for air, still clinging to one another, foreheads touching. Killian was ready to dive back in when he looked up and remembered they weren’t alone. Mary Margaret was crying, Ruby was cheering, and David looked slightly annoyed but Killian saw the small smile he was trying but failing to hide. 

“Come on, love. I think it’s time we faced the vultures. And I’d like you to meet Elsa, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty good idea, Captain.” Emma reached down and grabbed Killian’s hand before they walked over. 

Maybe the trope board wasn't wrong after all. 

CSCSCSCSCSCSCSCS

As the party went on, Killian and Emma were inseparable; the two constantly touching the other. At one point, while talking to Mary Margaret and David, Emma laid her head on Killian's shoulder, something she'd done a million times, but this time Killian placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

The two were in their own happy bubble. They pretended to be engaged with those around them, but they couldn't ignore but feel the sparks ignited with each touch.  

"So, Emma? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for the miscommunication. I feel as though that was my fault." Emma was confused on how Elsa seemed to be privy to their issue, but then she saw Mary Margaret across the room and assumed her friend had filled her in.

"Please, don't be. I was...scared I lost my chance with Killian."

"Oh, honey. I don't think you could ever lose this one." Killian squeezed Emma closer to prove her point. 

Turns out Elsa was hilarious and had wonderfully embarrassing stories about Killian. Emma had a feeling the two were going to be good friends after tonight. 

The party eventually wound down a little after one, slowly the various couples left. That's when Emma realized she was alone with Killian. 

Finally. 

Suddenly, Emma felt her nerves grow. They'd declared their love and haven't left the others' side since, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She absentmindedly threw out some empty cups as she tried to plan her next move.

"Love," Killian called for her from the living room, "can you come here?" Emma slowly made her way into the room as Killian stretched out his arms to embrace her. 

"Emma, I...I know that tonight has been a lot. Our relationship has always been a lot. And I know the future is uncertain, but there's one thing I want you to be certain of - I will always be by your side. For as long as you'll let me, my love."

She didn't even know a tear had slipped until Killian pulled back to wipe it. 

"I haven't always made things easy. I get spooked easily, but I'm tired of running. I want to be with you, Killian. I love you."

"And I you, my beautiful Swan." 

The kiss started off slowly, different than the one earlier, but no less passionate. Emma brought her hands around Killian's neck, playing with the nape of his hair. As Killian kissed down her neck, Emma didn't recognize the noises that escaped her mouth.

As their kisses continued, Emma was surprised when Killian's legs hit the couch and he fell down. She hadn’t been aware that they moved. Emma said she was tired of running, and she was ready to show him. So she straddled his legs and hovered over him for just a moment.

They felt like teenagers again, making out on a couch like this. She could feel him harden beneath her, driving her wild. But, it wasn't enough, she needed more. Emma started unbuttoning his shirt, the bastard already had the top three undone. Without a second thought, she began to rake her fingers through the coarse black hair. 

"I've been dying to do this since we first met. So soft," she murmured. Killian found a spot behind her ear that made her mewl. Emma brought her lips to his ear, "I've always wondered how it'd feel against my breasts." 

With that, Killian pulled back. "My love, are you sure? We can wait. Because once I have you, I'm never going to let you go." Emma nodded slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she could barely see a trace of blue. His pupils were blown. 

Before Emma could stand, Killian wrapped his arms around her to carry her to his bedroom. He only ran into the wall twice as Emma was no doubt leaving marks on his neck. Killian gently placed her in the middle of the bed. 

"I always swore that if we got here, I would worship every inch of you."

"Killian, please, worship later. I need you now."

"Just a taste. Patience, darling." Killian was beyond thankful at that moment Emma had opted for a dress as he quickly removed her thong.  

Before she could speak, he brought his mouth to her sex. "You're already drenched for me. You..fuck...you taste delicious."

Emma couldn't speak, he was overwhelming in every sense of the word. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, not that she needed to guide him; he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Killian replaced his mouth with two fingers. "That's it, Emma. You look so beautiful like this. I want you to come for me, darling. Come and then I'll give you what you really want."

His voice was deeper, accent thicker. Emma had a feeling she could finish from his voice alone, but right now, it was his fingers and mouth that were going to do the trick. 

Emma lost all control of her limbs as he sent her over the edge. He didn't let up though, he continued slowly licking as she came back down. As her breathing returned to normal, Killian kissed up her body. 

"Worship later, Killian,” she moaned again. “Please. I need you. Now."

"So demanding, Swan,” he observed, taking his pants and boxer briefs off. “I think I like this side of you, all in a commanding voice, chills really." 

He climbed back on top of her, but instead of responding, Emma hooked her legs around Killian and flipped him, so he laid on his back. He looked up in awe, he had never been so turned on than in this moment. 

Emma decided she was tired of waiting, but before she could sink down Killian stopped her. "Give me a moment, let me grab something, I -"

"I'm clean, and I'm on the pill. I...I don't want anything between us."

"Gods, Emma. If you're sure? I'm good too, I haven't been with anyone since...since we met." 

Emma dove down to meet his lips as she sank down onto him. Killian swallowed her gasp as she adjusted to his size. Of course, he lived up to every innuendo, and Emma couldn't be happier for that than in this moment. 

For first times, they were both surprised with how easy it was to fall into rhythm with the other. There were only a few slightly awkward moments, but that didn't stop them from enjoying this moment. Emma's hips met Killian's with each thrust, quickly driving the other wild. 

"So fucking glorious, Emma. You're so tight like this. Ride my cock, such a good girl. I want to feel you come around me this time. You're stunning when you come. That's...fuck... that's it Emma, take what you need, darling."

Before Emma could even respond, Killian decided it was her turn to be flipped on her back. "Now, if I remember correctly, you wanted to know how it feels with me on top."

"That's, ugh, that's not exactly what I said. But I'm not complaining."

Emma felt that familiar sensation growing in her stomach as Killian's pace intensified. "Killian, I'm close. Together, I wanna -"

"Aye, love, together."

Killian felt her tighten around him as she moaned out in ecstasy, pulling him right after her. He gave her a searing kiss as he spilled himself inside of her. Killian fell on top of her, too exhausted to worry about crushing her for a moment. 

"Killian? As much as I love how, uh, close we are now, do you think you can move? I can't breathe, and I need to clean up."

"Oi, you're gonna give a man a complex!" Killian slowly rolled off her, in awe of the glow Emma radiated at the moment. Emma couldn't help but giggle as he was being an annoying ass, but mostly he was still...Killian. 

They were still them. Except they just had mind-blowing sex. 

She could get used to this new addition to their relationship. 

"Stay here, love. Let me." Killian was back in a moment and helped clean Emma. When he finished, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just like before. 

"What is it, Swan?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy. It's just so surprising."

"Aye, love, me too. But this doesn't change anything. I've loved you for years now, and we'll go at whatever pace we both see fit, but I'm in this for the long haul."

"As am I, Captain."

The two laid in bed, cuddled close, and shared lazy kisses. When Emma looked at the clock, she saw it was nearly three in the morning. A few weeks ago, Emma had thought nothing good happened after two am; it turns out she was wrong. 

"Swan? Can you tell me what the bloody hell a trope board is?"

[stusbunker]

A Gentlemen’s Agreement Epilogue

A Supernatural Denny AU Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other characters: Pamela, Jesse, Caesar, Crowley, Balthazar, Meg, Jo, Lee, Lisa, Sam (mentioned), Drea OFC, Robbie and SJ OMCs, Deanna OFC

Word count: 2340

A/N: Enjoy! xoxo Stu

Brunch

    The sun was bright, but the air was crisp. The remnants of the early snowstorm had left soggy lawns and damp sidewalks. Benny pulled up to the restaurant and parked on the curb, smiling over at Dean. He waited patiently. 

    “You sure this is a good idea?” Dean squinted in the midday light.

    “Been dying to meet ya. Figured it’s only fair, I met your folks, you can meet my people too,” Benny said simply. “But I’m not gonna force ya.”

    “I just, I’m not used to being out in public. In numbers,” Dean sputtered.

    Benny raised a single eyebrow at him. “Well, I guess this is your best shot to try it out, dontcha think?”

    “What if they don’t like me? I don’t want you to have to choose between me and your friends,” Dean explained the root of the problem.

    “I like you, they will too. Just relax, be your charming self and if you don’t know what to say, you can just keep eating.” Benny put his hand on Dean’s thigh, squeezing just so.

    Dean growled out a sigh. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

    Like that could make an uncomfortable situation worth it. Benny smirked at Dean’s logic, waiting for his face to soften from grouchy to amiable. Once Dean relaxed, Benny kissed him, just long enough to keep him flustered and climbed out of the truck.

     They approached a large round table midway along the heated patio, where four people were already seated.

A raven haired woman waved them over. “My good Benjamin, did you bring a straight boy to brunch, just for me?!”

“Pammy!” Benny leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Hate to disappoint ya darlin', but ain't nothing straight about this'n."

 “Hey, now! Can’t a guy speak for himself?!” Dean snipped defensively as he sat in the spot beside Benny.

Everyone laughed. Pamela raised her eyebrow in question.

Dean licked his lips and put on the smolder, “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m taken.”

“Wait, this--- THIS is your sassy mechanic?!” Crowley leaned forward, extending his hand, his English brogue gruff and pandering. “Nice to finally meet you, handsome.”

       Dean gave Benny the side eye and all Benny could do was shrug coyly. Dean shook the man’s hand, trying not to show his discomfort from his lingering glances. Benny made the rest of the introductions, Jesse and Cesar were also a couple, but had been married for a few years. They seemed to be waiting on someone before they ordered. The group sipped their cocktails with a fresh pitcher of Bloody Mary in the center of the kitsch tablecloth.

Benny poured Dean a generous portion of the red drink and slipped seamlessly into the conversation. Dean sucked the palmeto out of an olive and listened casually, not too sure where he fit in this part of Benny’s life.

Twenty minutes later a rail of a guy swaggered in, with oversized aviators and a black linen suit. 

“Oh, thank Christ for booze,” he huffed, grabbing Dean’s glass without even acknowledging Dean was there. The blonde chugged the entire drink, before breaking for air. “I just had the worst hook up of my life, no, well, the year at least. He took me to his mother’s house. She tried to make me breakfast. I was simply mortified. I just left. What could I even do at that point, honestly?!”

Now that his audience had his attention back, the man gawked at Dean. He even pulled down his sunglasses for a better look. “Now who the fuck is this? Is it show and tell?! Because I am not prepared in the least.” 

He casually patted at his hair and eyed Dean from top to toe. Benny chuckled, but Pamela was the one to make the introduction.

“Balthazar, our regular hangover diva. Meet Dean, Benny’s boy toy,” she deadpanned, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh you can’t be serious,” Balthazar lamented, looking from Pam to Benny to Crowley and finally at Dean. “Fuck you southerners and your goddamn accents--- always gets the hotter ones,” he muttered defensively as he threw himself against the armrest of the chair, crossing his legs.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Cesar ended the dramatics concisely. “Maybe somebody should find our waitress?”

Dean looked at Benny confused. “We’re always here for a while, she doesn’t bother us until we’re actually ready to order. Tend to annoy her otherwise.”

Crowley volunteered as he needed to head to the men’s room anyhow. Five minutes later he arrived with an obviously surly waitress.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” Meg’s smokey voice broke through Balthazar's latest story. She centered herself between Cesar and Crowley’s seat and cocked her hip, tongue firmly in cheek as she waited for Dean to take her bait.

“Heya, Meg,” Dean sighed. The inevitable caught up with him after all, they just had to run into someone he knew.

“Oh, this has got to be good, now, pray tell, how do you two know each other?” Crowley probed.

“Oh me and this schmuck? We go way back.” Meg smiled without teeth.

“Is that so?” Benny tested the waters.

“Not like that,” Dean grumbled. “Meg, here, took my little brother Sammy out for a few spins, back in the day. Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? It was high school.” Meg let her indifference coat her entire being until curiosity sparked to life in her eyes. “So what are you doing with this crowd, or did they bring you in just to add a new level of torture to my Sunday shifts?”

“Well---.” Dean swallowed, looked at Benny for clarification and got mild amusement instead. “I think you’re stuck with me now.”

“Joy,” Meg bristled before taking their orders, knowing most of the table’s usuals before they even opened their mouths.

News

    Benny rushed into the customer entrance of the shop, the wet October air had kept the service doors closed for the past week. He leaned against the counter, decorated in local business cards and charity fliers, anxiously waiting for someone to talk to. His chest was so tight he worried he’d pass out from excitement. He just needed to see him was all, once he saw Dean it would be easier.

    Lee sauntered in from the service bay, they both had drawn the short straw it seemed.

    “Hey, mind getting Dean for me? It’s important,” Benny asked, unable to keep the burning smile from his face.

    Lee eyed him curiously but nodded and headed back the way he came. He didn’t shout, not really. “Dean-o, your boyfriend’s looking for ya.”

    Dean unfurled himself from the engine he had been tinkering with all morning and glared at Lee.

    “Husband, whatever, seems urgent,” Lee acquiesced. Dean nodded and wiped his hands off on the closest rag. Dean pulled his wedding band out from his undershirt out of habit more than anything. He couldn’t wear it on his hands at work, but he didn’t want to lose it so Benny made him a braided leather necklace once they got back from their honeymoon.

    Dean ignored formality and walked straight into the waiting room. Once he saw the look on Benny’s face he knew what was happening.

    “It’s go time?” He asked, shock and exhilaration sparking his instinct to move.

    “It’s go time, cher. Lisa called me on the way to the hospital. Sam’s driving her from the office. Her water broke about 9:30,” Benny explained, the nervousness slipping into his cadence.

    “Alright, I’m gonna clean up, you want me to drive?” Dean asked, gauging the unsteadiness in his usually stalwart husband.

    “That’s probably best, yeah,” Benny agreed. 

Dean leaned in and kissed him firmly, resting his forehead against Benny’s temple before pulling away.“Hey, we got this, alright? That kid is gonna be so spoiled having you for a daddy, you know that?”

“Look who’s talking, gonna have you wrapped around their finger before they can even crawl,” Benny teased back, inhaling with contentment.

Dean headed back to warn his coworkers that he had a baby on the way and to clean up enough to be allowed into a hospital. Jo followed Dean out into the lobby. Quickly, she hugged Benny before demanding regular updates to the group chat.

“Alright, get out of here, we’ve got you covered for the rest of the week. Let me know and I will put in paternity leave as soon as everyone’s home, okay?” Jo got all professional about things as Dean left.

“Oh, right, shit. Well, I guess I’ll let you know when you can come over and---,” Dean started before Benny pulled him by his elbow.

“We should be goin’” Benny urged. Dean looked at Jo one last time and nodded.

This was it.

   Dean held Benny’s hand the whole way to the hospital, their grip tightening every so often, grounding them both. Because Lisa was a friend and the surrogacy was looser than most circumstances, both Benny and Dean were allowed in the delivery room. They were the best cheerleaders a birth mom could have ever asked for. Seven hours later, one chubby baby girl entered the world screaming to high heaven and splitting her fathers’ hearts open for an entirely new level of love and devotion.

    Mary Andrea Lafitte-Winchester, or Drea for short, was a happy and healthy little girl. And an overprotective big sister to her twin brothers, Samuel Joel and Robert Fergus, who came along four years later.

Sunset

    They’re old men now. Dean is five years retired, while Benny works the register for their sons on the weekends. Both of their hands aren’t what they used to be. But they keep busy. Drea is bringing the kids round tomorrow, it’s the start of summer break and Dean’s been dying to teach her kids to fish.  

    Dean went grey after he turned fifty, but it hasn’t changed since, in color at least. Benny’s beard is as white as Santa Claus and he hides what little hair he has left under a cap. They’re both a little rounder, a little lower to the ground, but they got that way together and neither of them notice it on one another anyhow.

       Every year they visit Jesse and Cesar in Arizona for New Year's. Though they fly more than make the drive these days.

        They still take turns cooking the meals and the movie nights from their early days resurfaced into movie afternoons when their kids moved out. Dean can’t hear for shit anymore and, naturally, Benny makes fun of him for it. But Dean’ll put in his hearing aids if company is over.

 It’s early evening in the beginning of June and the bugs are orchestrating quite the soundtrack to their time on the porch. Dean pours his whiskey. Benny’s already sipping his sweet tea, his medications don’t let him drink much anymore. Jo’ll come by on Sunday, along with SJ and his wife and Robbie. Sam and Jess usually make it to every other dinner or so.

    “Hey there, handsome. Mind if I join you?” Dean teases, once a flirt always a flirt.

    “Not at all, cher. It’s a helluva view,” Benny glances at his husband, watches Dean take in the peaches and pinks kissing the slopes of the fields. They sit like that for an hour, until the dark is too thick to see through. Groaning and creaking they stand in turn. Dean keeps his hand on the small of Benny’s back as they head inside for the night, steadying them both.

    They moved their bedroom to the ground floor after Dean’s heart attack, a lot less worry about making it upstairs that way. After being married forty years, Dean still makes jokes about it being Benny’s place. But it’s always been his home. He kisses Benny goodnight, makes it a little saucy because he can. He’s the first to close his eyes.

    In the morning Benny makes waffles and tofu bacon. Dean pretends he can’t taste the difference, fooling no one. They make out while the sink fills for the dishes, too few to run the machine. Benny gets handsy first and Dean tries to squirm into the upperhand. They’re interrupted by a car pulling in the drive.

    “Busted,” Benny whispers.

    “You’re the one who wanted kids,” Dean grumbles against Benny’s neck, an old, unfounded retort.

    “Yeah, but the grandkids---,” Benny starts.

    “Were made to be spoiled,” Dean finishes and kisses Benny once more. Drea’s yelling at her kids to slow down before her dads even make it outside to greet them. Her eyes, blue as her daddy’s are tired. They don’t envy her the school aged years. Dean bends down as baby Deanna, who’s nearly four, comes crashing into his arms. He pulls her up and holds her tight, reminds him of her mama and he can’t help but get a little weepy over the passing years. 

    “It’s so good to see you, baby girl.” Benny pulls his daughter into a hug before helping with their bags. The older kids don’t come inside until it’s time to eat, climbing through the barn and splashing in the creek until they’re soaked. But Deanna sticks with her Grandpa on a simple stroll, while Pappy and Mama catch up.

    Dean still has the jacket he bought from Benny, though the pants are long gone. He’ll leave it to Robbie when the time comes, when his son finds himself a stud that’s worth settling down for. If that’s what he chooses. 

    For now, Dean lets his granddaughter pick up every rock and stick she finds and examines it to the nth degree. He explains what he can about each one. She’s very curious. He even lets her wipe her chubby little hands on his pants’ leg when she needs to. They get back to the house just in time to start dinner, but before they go inside Dean takes a mental picture of his husband on the porch, their daughter beside him and his granddaughter running past him.

   It is a helluva view after all. 

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[newtonsheffield]

Many have asked headcanons about the romantic couples. But what about Kate and Edwina? And Anthony and Edwina? I mean, I'd love me some sibling headcanons here. 🧡 Because let's face it, I am addicted to this AU and I really love the love and interactions between the siblings, no matter how much this series is about Kate and Anthony. 😅

Okay, in the name of Full disclosure, I love and adore the Sheffield family! Mary Sheffield gave me such high hopes when Sophie got a stepmother in AOFAG That I was truly shocked and surprised when Araminta Gunningworth turned out to be truly the world’s biggest toad. I will never forgive Julia Quinn for killing off Mary in one line of the Second Epilogue of  When He Was Wicked I had to stop reading and have a cry for several minutes solid. Nothing would make me happier than to give you some Sheffield Headcanons! (Below the Cut because I’m such an unstoppable monster)

Kate is five years old when Edwina is born and she remembers every second of the first time she held her. Kate’s grandmother had dropped her off to the hospital and Kate had hovered nervously by the door, watching her Dad and Mary with the tiny little bundle her father was holding. Mary had smiled at her and said Katie, why don’t you come and sit up here with me? Kate had scrambled onto the bed, squeezing herself onto Mary’s lap even as her father warned her to be careful, Mary was a little sore. She’d fine, Thomas Mary had whispered as she started running her hands through Kate’s hair. Kate had peered very carefully at the tiny baby and her Father had placed the baby in her arms and said This is Edwina, and she’s going to need you to help her as her sister. Do you think you can do that Kate? And Kate had looked into the eyes of the tiny Edwina, and known she would spend the rest of her life protecting her sister if she had to. A photo of his moment still hangs in Mary’s living room. And it’s on Kate’s desk as well.

Kate was at the christening when she heard Mary’s aunt, a very shrewd woman tut and say to Mary’s mother (Who was called Karen. Not granny. I’m Edwina’s Granny but not yours), Well it’s nice she has one of her own now. She won’t love Katharine so much now though I suppose. And even though Mary had called her over into a tight hug soon after. Kate had waited, and then waited some more for Mary to push her away. For her to tell her that she wasn’t her daughter after all, and it was time to stop pretending. Instead Kate heard Mary introduce her again, and again as My Daughter, Kate never Kate, Thomas’ daughter. And Kate loved her even more because of it 

Kate was about 10 years old when she realised that people treated her and Edwina slightly differently. Edwina was a stunning child, completely skipping the awkward braces phase that Kate had to suffer through, Edwina didn’t need glasses, Kate did (though she switched to contact lenses in her adult years). Kate watched Time and time again, as people’s eyes slid over Kate and landed on Edwina where they stayed, but she told herself it didn’t matter, she loved her sister, and Kate was fine with her career. She didn’t need anyone else. She didn’t. Of course when she looks at Anthony playing with their children in the yard, she wonders how she could have ever been jealous of Edwina. How she could have pretended, even for a moment, that she didn’t desperately need him. 

Kate had always wanted a puppy. Had begged Mary and her father for one, year after year.  Please, Daddy! Please can I have a puppy for Christmas?! and he’d always smiled and said Sorry, Peanut, dogs make Daddy sick. We can get you a fish instead! Kate had gone to brunch the week she started at Bridgerton and Sons and felt like crying. This was supposed to be her big break! A sign her career was going somewhere instead she was stuck with Anthony fucking Bridgerton, smirking and sniping at her. As she sat at the table drinking her juice Mary had furtively sent Edwina a glance who’d then risen from he table rather suddenly and appeared carrying a box. We’re just so proud of you Katie, This new job is such a big opportunity and you’re going to be amazing! Mary had said as Eddie dropped the box ( a ribbon wrapped around the lid, tiny little holes poked in the side) in front of Kate. And she’d wanted to cry again because she couldn’t tell them now how much she hated the bloody job. And then she stopped as the box let out a tiny yip! She carefully peeled back the lid and Newton was staring up at her, his tiny tail wagging, tongue lolling out happily and Kate had burst into tears. Newton Sheffield started his new life at Kate’s flat, though if anyone had asked him, he far preferred Anthony’s house when he was introduced to it a year later. And he definitely approved of his human’s new friend, who always snuck him little table scraps. 

The first time Edwina and Mary heard Kate complain about Anthony fucking Bridgerton, they had both raised their eyebrows at one another, saying nothing. The 75th time they heard Kate complain about Anthony fucking Bridgerton Mary had sighed. When Kate had gone into the kitchen to fetch a snack Edwina had sighed and said Do You think she knows she’s in love with him? or Do you think she actually thinks she hates him? Mary had clucked her tongue and said I definitely think she believes she hates him, even though it’s fairly obvious this could all be solved with 20 minutes alone in her office. Edwina is still cackling loudly when Kate walks back in, glaring suspiciously she says to Mary What’s wrong with the idiot? Mary just smiles and says Nothing sweetheart.

Thank you so much for reading my scrappy little fics! I love reading your tags!