#cross our fingers that season 5 is his season

[ananke-xiii]

Some speculations about the power of stories, cycles and karma and... Boyd.

***FROM spoilers (although it's mainly just my predictions lol)***

One of the things that I like about FROM is how they use different forms of art to help people remember things about their past.

Miranda used paintings so that she could remember and so does her son, Victor, who draws so that the pictures would remember for him. And it's precisely his sister's drawings that help him remember what he had removed.

Then, there's music, obviously, that make Tabitha and Jade remember not exactly their lived past but their karmic past.

There's also dance in the show but it hasn't worked its magic yet, I'm very curious to see how the ballerina is connected to Boyd and... Tillie? It's still minor compared to the previous two but I think we'll see our ballerina again pretty soon.

There's, finally, the power of stories. Ethan is the key-figure here because he's our go-to guy for all the crazy meta-ness of the show. But also Kenny and Kristi were reading a story together (cute and very Lancelot and Guinevere of them), they got stuck at chapter 6 or something before shit hit the fan so... I hope they won't forget about that.

More importantly, I'm very curious about one specific aspect: season 3 ended with Ethan saying that a story that has been told can't be changed so everyone is talking about how FROM is following LOST rule of "Whatever happened, happened", aka: you cannot change the past. Okay. But.

But I wonder if this is going to be the case with FROM since we now know for sure that the main theme is breaking the cycle of abuse. Since the show has introduced the concept of reincarnation I'm wondering if this means that yes, okay, the past cannot be changed, the story has been already told and there's nothing that we can do about it BUT isn't breaking it the whole point of karma?

I mean, a lot of major characters are starting to remember their trauma so this is good news but this also means that the show is faced with the three narrative choices, I think:

keep to its genre and let everything end in horror and blood. I think this type of ending can only be satifsying in movies but in shows where people invest a lot of time across multiple seasons spaced out over long years? Mmmm, it's very tricky to pull off. I mean, it can be done but I think it's very hard to convince people who have watched a show for over 5+ years that yeah, everybody dies horrendously, hurrah!;

the LOST way: some people manage to escape the town and go back to their lives and they all (more or less...) met there because they needed each other to move on from their past. I think this won't happen because of Harold Perrinau. He specifically accepted the role because he was promised it wasn't gonna end like LOST, so... Either FROM's ending will be a huge embarassment for everybody involved or it won't end the same way as LOST (fingers crossed);

since we've been shown that art has healing powers, stories too will be healing for the characters, aka they'll manage to change the narrative/the past. Now I think this is where the money's at and why I'm so intrigued by the introduction of time travels.

My istinct tells me that it's going to be a mix of 1 and 3: I think the show will end with the breaking of the cycle but I don't think that one particular character will make it to the end. The character is Boyd and I think that in season 4 he'll be key to understanding if the show will have a happy ending or not. So far I think it's not gonna be happy-happy for everyone.

I don't think Boyd will make it to the end because the elements so far tell me so:

1. The ballerina dance didn't help him remember anything, as a matter of fact he destroyed the music box to save people. This is a huge red flag: will he destroy his chance to break his cycle for the sake of other people?;

2. He's got two sons in the show: his actual son Ellis and his putative son Kenny. Kenny's father, Bing-Qian suffered from dementia and has been associated with feelings of confusion and with not being understood. He also talks about another form of universal language, that is chess. He unfortunately dies (Boyd seems to suffer from Parkinson's and he's convinced it's that because his father had it but he was never actually diagnosed with it. Or it's not been shown yet). Abby, Boyd's wife, also dies by none other than Boyd's hand. She was described as "confused" and people believed that she had started to show signs of some sort of paranoia, I think (we know now that, perhaps, she was remembering her past life). She wasn't understood/believed, too. Kenny's mother, Tien-Chen, dies as well and her death is also connected to Boyd. So, I mean, as far as parental figures with whom he's paralleled/paired go, things don't look good for our sheriff;

3. The point of the show seems to be that parents must avoid the sacrifice of their children. Boyd has two sons and he has martyr-like tendencies. Sooooo..... again, things don't look good for him;

4. Boyd-as-husband is connected to Henry and Jim. They're all husbands who didn't believe their wives and didn't support them. Henry and Jim are also heavily associated with the Man in Yellow who seems to be the primary abuser of the show (or he's very strongly related to the cycle of abuse that's been happening for who knows how long). Henry and Jim (and Boyd too, by extension) are portrayed as ambiguous figures, they're clever man who're also very morally skewed. There's something dark about Henry, I'm not sure about his intentions, his talk with Donna about thinking that, for a moment, he hoped that Victor were dead... I mean, it was a human moment but it was also ominous. (Let's also not forget about Boyd being a former-military and how the Civil War is a sleeping theme in the show. Henry was doing hard drugs with Miranda in the 70s so this tells me he wasn't sent to Vietnam? There's a latent element of actual war here. I don't know how it'll pertain to Henry, Jim (Jim's father was an alcoholic, is PSTD from war related to this?) and Boyd in the town but I KNOW there's something going on. I unfortunately don't remember much about my American History class at uni so I can only pick up the vibe without really explaining it, it's so frustrating).

While I'm more confident about points 1, 2 and 3, I'm not so sure about point 4. I think this will be the gordian knot of the story.

For whatever reasons, time travels are associated with grand-fathers/fathers and their assassination or impossibility thereof. On one hand, with the introduction of Henry (who's got the same function as Jim), Jim seems to be redundant and therefore his death is final. On the other, if his death is final it means that Julie, as a story-walker and time traveler, cannot change the past. This doesn't bode well for my hoped-for happy ending.

The shows seems to tell us: it's not about whether or not you can kill your father when you time-travel because it's about saving your father! (Julie saved Boyd-as-father in the well by handing him the rope).

So we have a story about parents saving their children and children saving their parents! Isn't this beautiful? I literally can't wait to see if I'm right or not about this, lol.

It all boils down to Boyd: so far the story is telling me that parents will most likely save their children but they probably won't be able to save themselves. However, Julie did save one father-figure so far, will she be able to save her own father? Can children save their parents?

These are very interesting questions but I truly hope they will stick to the "art has the power of changing people" theme (parents, children, everyone!) and give us a healing story rather than a hopeless one. Can we make it through the horrors or not? More importantly, can we make it together and stop this sacrifice madness??? I think we need stories that heal and give us hope!!!

p.s. for posterity: Season 4 will have "Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree" playing in one of the diner's jukebox. Mark.My.Words.

[swiftholic-13]

The Season's Scandal Chapter 6

pairing → Eloise Bridgerton x Female Reader

summary → Y/N and Eloise are finally exploring their feelings for each other.

warnings → none

words → 1.7k

masterpost chapter 5

A few long minutes went by. My fingers still lost in her hair and her body pressed against mine. I never wanted this moment to end, but I knew it had to. I took a last look at her as I started to slip out of her grasp. I slipped away from under the covers and started dressing myself up as far as possible. My hair was a mess and I could not get into my corset and gown all by myself. I opened the door and peaked outside. Luckily, nobody was there and I was able to call upon one of the Bridgerton servants. She looked surprised as she observed the scene and I payed her a lot to keep her silence.

She helped me getting dressed and to get my hair and make-up back on track as much as possible. She left after fixing the last bits on my hair. Before leaving the room, I took a last look at Eloise. I sat down next to her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful and I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with her. I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead “goodnight my love”.

I rushed through the hallway hoping nobody would see me leaving Eloise’s chambers. As I took another look around I bumped into somebody. I gasped and looked up in shook. Luckily, it was only Victor. He did not seem pleasantly surprised by bumping into me. “Where have you been?” he asked quietly, still looking around in fear. His eyes fixated on my hair and he noticed how different it was from when he last saw me. His questioning eyes caught mine and he let out a long breath “Do not tell me you were in Miss Bridgertons chambers” I did not answer his question and tried to flee from his gaze. “You need to be more careful, people could see you!” he hushed. “It was not what I had intended ” I assured him. We got interrupted by another pair of footsteps approaching, my mother. “What are you doing here?” She asked in an angry tone. “I-” “Miss Y/N was not feeling well and I sent for a carriage” before I could come up with an excuse Victor saved me, once again. My mother shook her head and came closer to me while inspecting my face “You cannot just disappear”. My mother shook her head once again. Her disappointment was quite obvious “Thank you Lord Abery” she nodded towards him as she took my arm and pulled me off. We found a less crowded way out and into our carriage. On our way back home she did not say anything, she did not even look at me.

————————

The next morning, I got ready to leave the house and pay a visit to Eloise. My mother was already awaiting me in the hall to prevent me from leaving the house. I did not pay any attention to her and put on my gloves. “Where do you think are you going?” she asked me with her arms crossed. “Visiting a friend” I replied, trying to move past her. She stopped me in my tracks “What did I say about friends?” she hissed at me. “Now that I am engaged I did not think you care” I said brushing past her as her eyes widened in shock. She walked after me as we arrived outside. “And you did not care to tell me this?” “You have not asked me” “Oh I do not have to ask you anything, I am your mother” I nodded and shook my head in disbelief as I entered the carriage prepared for me and drove off.

I could not help but smile as my carriage arrived at Bridgerton house. On the other hand I was a bit nervous. Maybe Eloise regretted what has happend, maybe she did not care for me like that or maybe she did not like it at all. I had to stop myself from overthinking and just go for it.

When I entered Benedict greeted me and sent me upstairs to Eloise’s chambers. I thanked him and went straight towards her room. I knocked softly and her voices answered “Come In”. She was sitting at her table writing something in her journal. She turned around and her eyes lit up as she saw me. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around me “Y/N” she nuzzled her face into my neck and I could feel her smile on my skin. All my worries washed away. feeling her in my arms was still magical. She slowly loosened her grip on me. Her right hand wandered down my arm and took my hand in hers. She intertwined our fingers as I whispered “I missed you”. She smiled again and closed the distance between us. Her lips gently moved against mine in a soft kiss. We parted and I could not stop myself from blushing. She turned around and closed her journal still laying on display. “What were you writing?” I asked her as I stepped closer and wrapped my free hand around her from behind, pulling her closer to me. “about you actually” she replied as she let go of my hand and spun around in my arms. I raised my eyebrows in interest “You shall not read it, just yet” she replied and pecked my lips once more. "Does it capture the moment you fell for me?" I asked, teasing her. She blushed and a smile escaped her lips "I fell for you the moment I met you" she replied, trying to flee my gaze. I pulled her closer to me "How romantic". She rolled her eyes and pushed herself off me. “Shall we go outside for a bit, the weather is splendid” she asked me and I nodded, unable to take my eyes of her gorgeous face. She took my hand once again and pulled me out of the room.

Benedict decided to accompany us on our stroll. It was uncomfortable at the beginning but Benedict was a delightful presence and It did not stay that way for long. Benedict was definitely my favorite of the bunch. He was funny and unserious and definitely different from every other man in the ton. Eloise also seemed to like him the most among her siblings. We walked close to one another and her arm was resting on mine. It was the only way I could show my affection for her out here. My eyes were set on her for the whole walk, which Benedict probably noticed after some time. Later Eloise excused herself for a moment and I was left alone with Benedict. Benedict cleared his throat and took a step closer towards me. “I must ask you about your intention with my sister” my eyes widened and I looked at him in shock “What do you mean?” ”Society may not tolerate such behavior but I see you two and cannot help but wonder what it is that you feel for her” I looked down thinking about what to answer. He already knew so it was to late to call it a lie. “Your sister is very dear to me” “Promise to never let harm come her way” He said in a sudden seriousness. He deeply cared for his sister. “I would never” I assured him. We shared a silent understanding and I was relieved that he asked no further questions about the nature of our relationship. Eloise returned and slid her arm back around mine “Everything alright?” she asked as she noticed the silence. “Yes my dear” I replied, smiling at her and we continued our walk.

After a long day with the rest of the Bridgerton family I decided it was time for me to go home. Eloise escorted me to my carriage. “Thank you for the wonderful day” I said and she smiled at me “Shall I come and visit you tomorrow? your mother seems on rather high spirits lately” she asked me. “I would like that” I answered smiling. Her hand found mine. I looked around, but it was too reckless to kiss her right here, right now. We said our goodbyes and I drove back home.

————————

The next day Eloise came to my house pretty early. I rushed downstairs as I saw Eloise talking to my mother. My fear of what she said to her grew fast and I decided to step up. “Eloise” I greeted her as I grabbed her hand and rushed with her to our library, leaving my mother behind. I closed the door behind us and released a long breath. “What did she say?” I asked, trying to cover my fear. “Nothing really, she just asked me about my name and when I am to be married” she said rolling her eyes “You were truly not exaggerating when you spoke of her”. We both laughed and I pulled her closer by the hands. “You look beautiful” I whispered. She chuckled and started stroking my hands. She leaned forward and kissed me lightly. After a comfortable moment of silence, she started to look around and took in the huge room. Eloise walked around and took a look at the many different books located in the various shelves. “Most of them have never been opened, my family does not care for literature” Eloise shaked her head in disbelief “How can one not enjoy reading?” “I do not know” I sat down on the long sofa located at the opposite side of the book shelves. I could watch Eloise´s graceful form wandering around, inspecting the books with accuracy.

eventually, she picked a book and returned to me. She sat down next to me with the book still in her hands. “Will you read it to me?” I asked her. She looked at me while studying my face. “Sure” she replied and made herself comfortable. She laid down beside me, resting her head on the back of the sofa. I took my place next to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. My head rested on her chest. I inhaled her scent as her left hand stroked my hair gently. “I need to speak with you about something.” I told her in a more serious tone, deciding it was now a good time for a talk. I still have not told her about Victor and my true reason for the engagement. “shh” she hushed me “We will discuss this later” She gently pressed her lips to my forehead. Soon she retrieved her hand from my hair and opened the book. As she started reading I could not help but to smile to myself. Her voice was calming and the sound of it sent goosebumps down my skin. I closed my eyes while I listened to her steady heartbeat. Everything was perfect and I would soon have dozen off to sleep in her calming presence.

If I am sticking to my plan we are about halfway through the story now There is still so much to come and I cannot wait for you guys to read It. I will try to post the next few chapters soon and as always I hope you enjoyed It

taglist:

(comment If you want to be added, also make sure to turn on mentions)

@mmmunson @kenzieisgone @morgannope @greattidalwavedinosaur

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 5

Hey guys!! Welcome back to the Spooky World Tour. Where we finally leave the USA and head across the Pond.

First stop! The British Isles. Where Robin gets giddy about Titanic stuff. They do run afoul some fans as they leave Boston, but nothing seasoned vet Eddie Munson can't handle. Eddie tries out new looks as disguises that make Steve very happy and Robin and Chrissy get teased.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

“Oh shit.”

Eddie had checked his phone for their flight number because they were getting ready to check out of one of the hotels they stayed in. It was supposed to have been haunted but considering their previous experiences, it was pretty sure bet that it actually wasn’t.

So yeah, anyway. They had a problem. Well, closer to roughly fifty problems and all of them outside the hotel waiting for Eddie Munson to come out.

Steve looked up from his last minute search of the room to make sure they got everything. “What’s up?”

“Someone fucking told TMZ I’m in Boston,” Eddie hissed, “and which hotel I’m staying at.”

“Shit.”

They shared a glance and both took off at a run straight for the girls’ room.

Eddie raised his hand to knock, but Chrissy was already opening the door.

“How did they find out?” Steve asked, nervously twisting his fingers together.

“Vickie’s looking into it,” she said, gently. “I’ve hired two cars exactly the same to show up at the back of the hotel. We will get in one and four actors will get into the other and we’ll play the fucking shell game with these people.” She got angrier as she spoke.

Robin came up behind her. “That was Vickie,” she said solemnly, “she thinks she’s found the leak.”

Steve and Eddie shared a concerned glance.

Chrissy pulled them into the room and closed the door behind her. She stood in front of the door and crossed her arms. “Who do I have to kill?”

“Nancy fucking Wheeler,” Robin huffed. “By way of probably Mike and Dustin. Mike figures she got home early when Dustin was talking about how Steve and I must like having friends in high places that could take us on world tours.”

Steve sank to the floor in a crouch. He had told Dustin that as a trial run to see how well he could keep a secret now that he was older. And apparently the answer was not well at all.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” she continued. “Nancy must have decided that since she couldn’t blab about Steve and Eddie’s relationship without breaking the NDA she decided to chose violence instead.”

Eddie put one hand on his hip and lifted his shirt a little as he looked around the room. Then he spotted the potted plant. A real one for how posh the place was. He grabbed a baggie from Chrissy’s makeup bag and started filling it.

Robin frowned in confusion, but Steve and Chrissy grinned.

“His little camouflage technique,” Chrissy explained.

Then the light bulb above Robin’s head went off. “Like that night you came to the concert!”

Eddie and Steve grinned at her.

“We can’t doing it leaving the hotel,” he said with a grin, “because the shell game wouldn’t sell. But once we’re in the car, we dirty up our clothes and luggage to get through to the airport. Then we can use the airport lounge to shower and change.”

“So we leave now?” Robin asked, looking at her watch.

“We leave now.”

~

Robin knew how to change up her look. She took out makeup from Chrissy’s bag and did her makeup completely different to ‘Robin’. She didn’t have any of her designer clothes that she wore as Celeste Baptiste, but she knew how to glam up what she already had. Chrissy and Eddie did the homeless look, multiple layers and dirt smeared into their skin and hair.

Steve was a little harder to disguise because of his perfect cheek bones and distinct profile. Which is when Chrissy got the idea to glam Steve up too. She contoured his face and added cat-eye wingtips and glitter.

Standing next Robin, they looked like a pair of fashion models on their way to Milan, London, or even Paris.

Eddie and Chrissy split up, while Robin and Steve walked and talked like Abbadon and Celeste.

Soon they were at the airport lounge and Eddie and Chrissy made quick work of their disguises in the lounge showers.

Steve had his makeup removed, but Robin kept hers on.

“I will feel safer it being on until after the flight takes off,” she said once Eddie and Chrissy had rejoined them.

Chrissy gave her hand a squeeze. “That’s okay. I talked to the airline representative and the pilot and they both assured me that the flight is nearly empty and we are the only ones in first class.”

Robin nodded and Steve pulled her close for a hug. He never had to experience that before. But with them traveling with Eddie, it was insane.

~

Steve had long since fallen asleep on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie looked over across the aisle to Robin.

“When you guys fly is first class or...?” he asked quietly, careful to not wake either of their partners. Chrissy was on the other side of Robin, curled up into a little ball with a Hello Kitty sleep mask over her eyes as she snored softly.

Robin shook her head. “We don’t want to let people on that we might be anything other peons. Shane suggested a private jet once. But...”

“How do you explain that the five little peons,” Eddie said with a chuckle, “Shane, Simon, Steve, Spence, and Robin aren’t on the same flight as the other roadies and peons?”

Robin snorted. “Yeah, pretty much. Spence suggested telling people we just were all getting on a separate flight than everyone else.” She cocked her head to the side. “Steve wasn’t convinced.”

Eddie winced. Steve could be really stubborn about that sort of thing. He was also the one that stood to lose the most if this shit went south, so... Eddie supposed a little bit of grace could be given.

“You do know what the solution is, don’t you?” he said with a grin. “You hire a charter jet for everyone.”

Robin blinked at him for a moment and then grinned back. “Eddie Munson, I love your brain.”

“Well that’s all you get,” he huffed, looking down at the still sleeping Steve. He brushed a strand of hair out of Steve’s face.

“Sap!” she huffed and pulled down her witchy sleep mask she got in Salem, MA and settled into her seat to sleep the rest of the flight.

Eddie pulled out the blanket they had been given and covered them both. Then under the covers linked their hands together.

Slowly he too drifted off to sleep.

~

Steve awoke with a start as the flight attendants announced that they were coming into Cobh and to please put all tray tables in an upright and locked position. He looked around and saw that everyone else was awake. Chrissy and Robin were playing games on their phones while Eddie read a book.

Steve peered around at the title. “The Dead Zone” by Stephen King. He snorted. Of course his boyfriend would be reading horror on this trip. He just wasn’t sure that was the right book to read considering the current political climate, but he wasn’t about to police Eddie’s reading.

He stretched and then buckled his seatbelt. He carefully folded the blanket and handed it to the flight attendant as they passed, making sure everyone was buckled in.

“The Titanic Museum in Vegas was pretty impressive,” Robin said excitedly. “I really hope this place delivers.”

Steve chuckled at his best friend. By the nature of their trip they had to sometimes visit things in the bright light of day and it wasn’t always very spooky.

Personally he thought that was a good thing. The bones in his hands needed some relief from all the grinding and squeezing the other three had been doing. Because yes, while it began as just Eddie and Robin grabbing a hold of him when he got scared, Chrissy was supposed to be there as his “girlfriend” there was some hand holding to be expected from her as well.

Robin was not disappointed. The Titanic stuff was everywhere. The walking tour, the pier in which the ill-fated ship embarked from, the memorial. Robin was talking a mile a minute and even their tour guide seemed impressed by her wealth of knowledge.

Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy stood in the back of the group, arms crossed, watching their friend in amusement as she gestured wildly.

“She’s cute,” Chrissy said warmly.

“Well,” Steve said with a huff, “if your plan pans out, you can make all the kissy faces at her all you want.”

She tried to hide her giggle behind her hand, but failed miserably. “If that’s why I was doing it, I’d agree with you. But after what happened in Boston, disguising Eddie means we all become anonymous.”

Steve sighed. He had been thiissss close to telling Dustin about his secret band or hell just that he was dating Eddie in general, but then he had to go bragging to Mike about how cool it was for him to have friends that would take him on world trips and have the media catch wind of that?

Getting to Logan airport had been a nightmare.

Thankfully Eddie’s camouflage trick worked and they were able to get on their flight with minimal fuss.

So now Eddie was currently dressed in clothes that would have made people think he raided Abbadon’s closet. He wore a white button up over a white tank top, large white jeans. His hair had been braided by Chrissy and Robin to look like almost dreadlocks and huge glasses that covered his eyes. He had also refrained from shaving so that further covered up his face.

He looked like a fucking runway model and Steve was absolutely going to eat him when they got back to their hotel, he looked that good.

When Robin finally paused for breath they went to lunch and took in some of the other sites, Cohb offered.

Steve nearly burst out laughing when Robin grabbed Chrissy hand to show her something and then ‘forgot’ to let go. Chrissy might not being taking advantage of Eddie incognito, but Robin sure the hell was.

When they finally got to the hotel, Steve grinned at Robin and whispered, “I recommend dental dams and socks to muffle the noise.” He winked and walked away as she sputtered and squawked in outrage.

About five minutes later he came back out holding a small box. He knocked on their door and when Chrissy opened it, Steve tossed her the box.

“Always use protection, ladies,” he teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively and then turned and walked back to the room he shared with Eddie.

Chrissy looked at the box in her hand and saw it was dental dams. “Steve, why do you even have these? Steve? Steve!” But he merely closed the door behind him.

Eddie was unbraiding the last of his braids when Steve came back. “That better have not had been our last box, lover boy.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Like I would do such a thing!” he cried, mock scandalized. “We have three other boxes. I told the TSA agent I was going to a dental convention in Dublin.”

Eddie cackled. “Because of course you did.” He got up and pulled Steve toward the bed. “Come on, I believe you’ve been wanting to ravish me all day.”

Steve grinned, sliding his arms around his waist. “Oh yeah. I get that it’s not your style, baby, but I’m about to have a really good time peeling it off of you.”

Eddie grinned and flopped on the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows and wagged his eyebrows at Steve. Steve hurried to remove his own clothes and then crawled up on the bed.

“So this style really does it for you, baby?” Eddie purred. “I think I could be persuaded to wear it more often.” He cocked his head to the side. “At least on this trip.”

Steve yanked off the belt and undid the jeans, pulling out both shirts. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a deal. I get to dress you however I want for this trip and you have full reign in the bedroom. All under the guise of keeping you under the radar.”

“Sounds good, Stevie,” he said sitting up to allow Steve to remove his shirts. “I just have one caveat.”

“What’s that?” he asked absentmindedly, working to get Eddie’s pants off.

“That we take pictures of all the times we managed to fool people and post a montage on social media, as ‘back at you bitch’ to Nancy.”

Steve stopped what he was doing and looked Eddie dead in the eye. “God, I love you.” He ripped off the rest of Eddie’s clothes and kissed him deeply. “Hell yeah, babe. I love the way you think.”

And then he proceeded to ravish Eddie as planned.

~

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[vetteltea]

Carlos Sainz and Hot Cocoa and Warm Hands [no warnings]

Day 5 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

Note: There’s nobody I’d ever want to dedicate a Carlos Drabble to more than his actual WAG, @silverstonesainz. Dani, not only are you such a creative, kind, beautiful and talented creator, you’re also one of the greatest friends I could ever ask for. I could not be more thankful that we crossed paths and that our stupid love of Spanish men brought us together. I love you so much, sweetpea. 

It’s blistering cold in central Madrid, something you hadn’t witnessed since moving to the city with your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t entirely your fault for not climbatising; after all, three days after settling into his home, the two of you had been whisked away to Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi, your body so overwhelmed from the Jet Lag that you had done nothing but sleep and watch with wide eyes as Carlos drove the SF-23 to the absolute best of his ability. 

‘Only one more race,’ you had reminded him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he had clambered out of the car, wanting nothing more than for this season to be over. He was fairly certain the entire team felt the same. Every team felt the same, if you took away Red Bull.

No, what Carlos was excited for was to take a step away from the track, the bright lights and shades of red he was dressed in each weekend. The man had actually passed on the farewell party in Abu Dhabi; he had already said his farewells to the drivers and wanted to get back on the plane and take you home. After all, this would be the first time you could be together in your new home for more than three days. 

The man would have been content to leave his suitcase in the walkway, lift you into his toned arms and bury the two of you underneath the blankets on his bed, silent from the outside world. However, as the days move by, Christmas begins to draw close enough for the two of you to put up decorations, bake cookies and watch movies. He’s never been this domesticated, not with any of his other girlfriends. He didn’t feel comfortable; Carlos has always been seen as a strong male, built with golf, gym and driving. 

And yet…with you, he could relax. He could smile as you wiped flour on his tanned cheek, kissing you whilst another Hallmark movie played from the television system. Carlos remembered his father’s gruff voice, insisting that when he found the right woman, everything would change. Now, as his fingers laced with yours, dressed in his long winter jacket that you had insisted went well with your outfit, he finally understood.

The two of you had left your blissful home and Piñon for long enough to meet his family in the city. It wasn’t your first time meeting the Sainz’s, but Blanca had recently taken a new position in the city, whilst his mother had insisted they needed a reunion now you had moved in with her son. 

Of course, you were all too excited to see them, unlacing your fingers from your boyfriend and dashing over to be scooped into the warm arms of your (one day,) Mother, Father and Sister’s in law, kisses pressed to your rosy cheeks and stories spread whilst you linked arms with Ana. Carlos stepped in line with his father, the elder man patting his son on the back. 

“Ha sido bueno desde que se mudó aquí, ¿no?” He asks if everything has worked out since you had moved in; the grin on Carlos’ face answers the question. 

“Perfecto.” He answers, springing into a spiral of how each moment, something as simple as waking up or making the bed was now romanticized, simply because you were there to share the moment with him. 

Eventually, the group of you stop by the central grand-stand, traditional Christmas Music being played to everybody in the city. Your boyfriend takes the moment to slip an arm around your shoulder, his taller frame pulling you into his chest and a soft kiss pressed against your temple, beaming at having you in his touch. His brows tighten when he laces his fingers back into his palm, pulling away as if he had been violently shocked. 

You’re confused, watching him mumble to both of his sisters, his mother, before tapping his father on the shoulder, the two Sainz men stepping away from the group. Curiosity willed you to keep your eyes trained, until Reyes cooed in delight, drawing your attention back to the stage as a group of children stepped on, ready to sing carols to the festive crowd. 

The performance has you in such a trance that you don’t recognise your boyfriend’s return until you feel a hand on your lower back, turning in his touch, eyes widening when you see the deep red takeaway cup, filled with a rich, dark chocolate liquid. Your heart softens as he hands you the cup, seeing each of the women had been given an identical cup, letting the warmth spread across your fingers as you take a sip.

It’s heavenly; you’re almost certain you’ll be dragging the poor boy back into the city at any given moment simply so you could try this drink again. He wouldn’t mind, he would happily replay this moment in his mind for an eternity, so long as it was always with you. 

The cup is lifted to his own lips, your own eyebrows raising as you wordlessly offer him a sip of the drink. Ana and Blanca are intensely focused on the interaction, their younger brother taking a sip of the drink and beaming at you, passing the hot drink between one another until the cup is empty. 

“Are your hands a little warmer now, Cariño?” He’s concerned; although there’s a delight in being here with you, he doesn't want you to get too cold. Before you can answer his question, he simply takes your two hands into his own, cupping them in his larger palms and pulling them upwards to his lips, leaving soft kisses against your skin. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You tease, taking delight in how he laughs like a schoolchild, pulling you into his chest and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Only for you.” 

[storiesaplenty]

Ink My Whole Body (18+)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f/Reader

Call of Duty Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: swearing. Unprotected sex. Oral (f & m receiving) p in v sex. Fingering. Cum swallowing.

WC: 2054

Gifs do not belong to me: 1st gif @indigosunsetao3

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Summary: You & Ghost are contestants on Ink Master. You two can't stand eachother & it all comes to ahead when you have a face off against each other during a flash challenge.

I could hear his voice over the others.

Even my own teammates who were yelling different directions at me.

My clothes are covered in the different colours of paint as I threw the balloons filled with different paint at our massive canvas.

"You have 5 minutes." I heard the annoying voice of John "Soap" MacTavish.

Him, along with Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, and John Price are the host and judges of this tattoo show.

The three of them are the best tattoo artists in the world, and being judged by them all the time has taken a toll on many of the contestants that have been on the show over the seasons.

But they are not the ones who get on my nerves.

No, no, that has to be the man who I am up against right now, Simon "Ghost" Riley.

The 6'2 brute of a British man who is always wearing skull-patterned balaclava.

No one knows what he actually looks like. Even when we go to sleep, he is facing the opposite wall.

Him and I have been butting heads for weeks now, ever since he called me 'dovie.'

I asked him repeatedly to stop calling me that.

Not that I didn't like it, no, I liked it too much.

Every time he turned his hard stare to me, and grunts out his nickname for me, I can feel myself clench around nothing, as I scowled at him, trying not to show him how he gets to me.

How turned on I am by him.

"Time's up." Soap called out, and I dropped the balloon that was in my hand.

"Come on now Dovie, that doesn't look bad." I sneered when I heard him behind me. I turned around to face him, and I just knew that the bastard was smirking at me underneath balaclava.

"No one asked for your opinion, Simon."

His eye narrowed at me, and I already knew what he was going to say.

"I have told you to call me Ghost." Him and I said at the same time.

He looked taken back, and I silently cheered as I finally caught him off guard.

"Come on, they have finished judging." Bri said to me, tugging on my arm.

I left Simon standing there, watching me as I walked back to my team to hear who won.

Each team stood next to their canvas.

Men vs Females.

I waited with baited breath to see which team would win.

Soap, the man who loved the dramatics, finally told us who won.

"The winners of the flash challenge are the females."

We cheered, happy to have won a flash challenge after not winning for two weeks.

I called out Simon's name, and he looked at me.

I made sure to flip him off, and I could tell he was angry at me, his team holding him back.

◆

Once we got back to loft, I was sitting in the corner armchair, reading my favourite book, with just the lamp on, when someone big blocked my light.

I wasn't surprised to see Simon standing there, his thick arms crossed over his chest, silent as hell.

"Yes Simon?" I closed my book to give him my full attention.

I have been waiting for him to come to me, as I knew how pissed he was after flipping him off.

He stayed silent.

"Look, if you do not say something, then please leave. I would like to finish my book." I told him, grabbing my book once more, but then he did something that actually shocked me.

Simon grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the armchair.

I should have been angry.

I should have upset, but fuck, I was turned on more than I have been in my life.

"What gives you the right to treat me like this?" I asked him, trying to pry his hand off of my wrist.

"You get whatever you have coming dovie. First you tell me my work is shit."

It isn't, but someone had to knock him down a peg or two.

"Then you hide my clothes."

That wasn't me. That was someone who is long gone, but he didn't believe me when I told him it wasn't me.

"Then you disrespect me today, flipping me off in front of everyone."

"You deserves it." I snorted.

"Whenever I am tattooing someone, you make fun of my work, and I have yet to be on the bottom."

"I haven't been on the bottom either dovie."

"That's because you are long time friends with our three lovely judges."

His hold on my wrist seemed to tightened, and I actually got concerned.

"How fuckin' dare you." I could see how his eyes hardened.

"Oh come on. We all know it. It isn't a secret, and," I stopped talking when I saw him pull down balaclava under his chin and I barely got take in his handsome features before he smashed his mouth against mine.

This is probably the most intense kiss of my life.

There was so much passion behind the kiss, that I forgot that we were even fighting.

That we don't get along.

But the moment he let go of my wrist and put his hands on my ass, and lifted me with ease, I didn't care.

Not when I wrapped my legs around his waist, and I could feel how hard and big he was.

No wonder he is such a cocky bastard.

"Say the word, and we can stop." Simon grunted against my lips.

I didn't want this stop, as I kissed him hard once more.

I reached down between our two bodies, my hands on the button of his jeans, quickly unsnapping the button, and pulling down the the zipper to let him know I didn't want this to stop.

But the sound of the other brought us back to reality, and Simon practically dropped me on the ground, stepping away from me, and fixing up himself.

Just like I was trying to, but I know I must look like a mess.

"Hey, we brought back pizza." Nicole called out.

"I'll be there in a second. Just almost done this chapter." I called back, watching as Simon walked out onto the balcony, his balaclava already back up on his face.

◆

Ever since that night, I would sleep.

I would close my eyes and just picture Simon.

His face, his hands on me, his lips.

Just Simon.

I would wake up soaked and desperate for release, that I could not do with the others sleeping right next to me.

After the third night of restless sleep, I knew I had to do something.

Early in the morning, I found myself in the massive washroom, my hand between my thigh as I tried to cum, but they weren't doing shit.

I had tears of frustration about to roll down my cheeks, when there was a pounding on the door.

"One second." I cried out.

More pounding.

"I said one second." I called back, irritated.

"Let me in dovie."

My eyes widened at the sound of his voice.

I opened the door, and he stepped in to the washroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

I didn't even try to hide how desperate I was for him, but before I could make the first move, I watched as Simon sunk to his knees, his eyes focused on me as he pulled the balaclava down.

I watched with baited breath to see what he was going to do.

He reached around me and pulled the vanity stool out from underneath the vanity, and gently pushed me back to get me to sit on it.

When I did, Simon gently spread my legs apart and nestled himself between them, running his hands up and down my thighs.

His focus was going back and forth between my pussy and my face.

He turned his head side ways, and kissed my inner thigh. Kissing his way up until he reached where he wanted to be.

I cried out as I placed my hands on the back of his head, as he took one long drag of his tongue up my pussy.

"Fuckin knew you would taste good." Simon said as he let out a pleased hum, before he went back to slowly licking up and down my pussy.

I felt like I couldn't breathe as I struggled to keep my eyes open and focused on him.

He inserted one finger, and it felt massive.

I let out of a low moan as he dragged his finger back and forth, instantly finding that spongy spot that always makes me feel like I am seeing stars.

His tongue and finger picked up the their pace, until I was softly chanting his name, ready for the dam to break inside of me.

Until Simon pulled back, standing up quickly, watching as I cried out in frustration.

"I was so fucking close you asshole." Hot tears of frustration finally fell down my cheeks.

I was so consumed with frustration that I didn't see him pull down his pajama pants.

"Look at me." He grunted.

I shook my head no and crossed my arms in front of me.

"I said look at me."

I looked at him, and I could see his arm moving just a bit until I looked down, and I swear my eyes widened once again as I chocked on my own saliva.

"How the fuck is that going to fit?" My voice cracked as I asked that.

"I'll make it fit." He growled. "Lean over the counter."

I did as he asked.

He got behind me, his massive hand spreading my ass cheek as he placed his tip against the entrance of my pussy.

He pushed in and I had to cover my mouth to stop me from letting out the loudest moan I could muster.

The moment his hips were flushed against my ass, I sighed with relief.

"Hang on dovie." Simon moaned as he pulled out and slammed back into me.

◆

His pace was anything but gentle.

This was pure, raw fucking.

The sound of skin hitting skin was bouncing off the walls of the washroom.

I could hear how wet I am every single time he thrust into me.

He is the only thing that has consumed me at this very moment, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

Simon wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled my back against his chest, never once stopping his brutal pace.

My pussy started to flutter around his cock once more. I have already lost how many times I have cum by this point.

"That's it sweetheart. I can feel you. Cum again for me." He nipped my ear, and that was all I seemed to need.

I cried out his name as my body started to shake from how intense this orgasm was.

Simon grunted in my ear as he felt me tighten around his cock.

"Where?" He sounded desperate as his thrusts became erratic.

"Pull out." I told him, and he did, quickly jerking his cock off.

I got onto the floor, wrapping my lips around the tip of his cock just as he came.

The first rope of cum hit the back of my throat as I closed my eyes, moving my head down, moaning at the taste of him.

His one hand jerked off his cock, as the other one held my head to make sure I swallowed everything.

I swallowed as much as I could, not wanting to waist a single drop.

I was gently sucking his cock now, as he hasn't moved his hand.

He gently pulled my head back, as I leaned my head against his thigh.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, when there was pounding on the door.

"You two fucking done in there? There are other people on this place." Reyes yelled.

"Ignore him. There is another washroom." Simon said as he helped me stand, my legs still a bit wobbly.

"I don't hate you, you know." I told him as I tried to fix myself up.

"I don't hate you either." Simon said from behind the balaclava.

"Okay." I smiled, figured this was the step in the right direction with the two of us.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

7 Psychopaths: Seonghwa

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!seonghwa x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 1.8k-ish

x Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, some moments of deep/hard sex w/ scratching, sex in the desert cause danger is fun, pet names (baby), Hwa likes to talk dirty, fire, side character death via said fire, blood, teeth pulling w/ pliers, mini-explosion, a punch gets thrown, a lil enemies to lovers, strong language, tried to cover it all but lmk if anything's missing!

x A/N: This is #4 in a series of 6 stories featuring two members from TXT, two from ATEEZ, and two from Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

Previous Psychopath: Wooyoung | Next Psychopath: Soobin | OR Start From The Beginning

The average adult has 32 teeth. 28 if they’ve had their wisdom teeth taken out. Seonghwa shoves a pair of pliers into the mouth of the man he has tied up in the trunk of a car, clamping the metal jaws around the first molar on the right side. The man’s screams are agonizing, his wrists and ankles fighting against the frayed rope as the root tears out of place. Seonghwa holds it in the red glow of the taillights, ignoring the blood soaked cries of his present company.

“You really should brush your teeth more'' he frowns, noting the plaque buildup on the bloody tooth before tossing it aside. “Don’t worry though. Once I’m done you won’t have any left to brush.” Seonghwa grabs him by the neck, shoving the pliers into his mouth as a mixture of spit and blood drips down the man’s chin. Gripping the next tooth in line, he rips it out much easier than the last and the screaming continues. 2 down, 30 to go.

If they were somewhere in the city Seonghwa might've done something to quiet him down. Duct tape his mouth shut. Shove a sock in there. But this is the desert, the absolute middle of nowhere, during a time when even the sun has abandoned them. There are no people for miles in either direction and any encounter with the other living creatures that stalk the desert night is sure to end in this man's death. Make no mistake. He will die either way but first, there’s business to attend to.

“You have the misfortune of having a lot of teeth,” Seonghwa grins, waving the pliers around with tooth number 4 wedged between metal, “Fortunately, I don’t have a lot of time so why don’t you tell me what I wanna know and we can go our separate ways.” “You…you’re gonna let me go?” the man blubbers, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Of course, I will.” A lie. “Don’t fuck with me, man!” “I’m not fucking with you.” Another lie. Seonghwa takes a seat on the edge of the open trunk, patting the man on the shoulder like they’re two old friends grabbing a beer. “I’ll let you go. I always keep my word.” The final lie. The biggest lie of them all. 

But it works. In seconds the man confesses to Seonghwa, a sinner in search of forgiveness. He answers every question without pause. Spills the details of who hired him for the job that led to their paths crossing. Hell, he even starts in on his troubled childhood, going on about his mommy issues until Seonghwa can’t stomach his voice anymore. “Alright, well, thanks for that,” Seonghwa sings, hopping up and tossing the pliers into the trunk before walking out of view. “Hey! Where are you going?” the man shouts, wiggling towards the edge of the trunk.

Idling a safe distance away is Seonghwa’s car, soft white headlights illuminating the horizon as classical music flows from the radio almost too lightly to be heard. He pops the trunk, retrieving a 5 gallon gas canister. “Calm down, I’m coming back,” Seonghwa huffs, dragging himself back to the other car. The man’s eyes widen when he sees the canister, what little color is left in his pale skin drains to nothing. “No! You can’t do that! You gave me your word! You’re fucking crazy.”

Seonghwa digs a lighter out of his back pocket, flicking the top off of the canister with his thumb, “I know.”

You awaken from your slumber like a sweet baby angel to the gentle sound of orchestral music. The surface beneath you is the softest you’ve slept on in days and the blanket wrapped around you must be made of some luxurious fur because regular cotton could never feel this lush. You sit up, yawning, eyelashes fluttering, and wait for your vision to adjust. As the sleep wears off you suddenly notice how dry your throat is. Then there’s the pain. You bring your hand up to the side of your neck, touching the tender spot where you were injected with something, and it all comes back to you.

Woo. Seonghwa. They did this. Where are you? The driver’s side door swings open just as the pieces shift back into place. Nearby screams muffled by the crackling of a raging fire draw you in like a moth to a flame. There’s thumping inside the trunk of the other car. You’re too concerned about if you’re next to care who’s in there. “You’re up!” Seonghwa cheers, hopping into the car and turning to check the backseat where you’ve been passed out for hours. “How’s it going, baby?” “‘Baby’, my ass!” you shout, punching him in the face. You hate to hit something so pretty but he deserved it.

“You fucking drugged me!” Seonghwa holds his nose, tapping his foot to distract from the pain, “I did it for your own good.” “For my own good? You set me up. Where’s Woo? Son of a bitch.” Blinded by your anger, you storm out of the car, charging barefoot through the desert with the blanket still around you. Seonghwa chases after you, his head tilted back to avoid a nosebleed, “You can’t just walk around out here. You’re gonna get hurt!” “I’ll get hurt?” you scoff, turning back to launch another hit in his direction.

Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist, bringing an arm around your waist to hold you to him, “Look at me and tell me you think I’d ever bring harm to you.” The aching in your neck tells you not to trust him again but your heart won’t let you forget your shared history. All of the times he’s put his life on the line to protect you before. Whatever he’s done, there must be a reason. It better be a good one. Seonghwa lets out a sigh of relief as he senses your body has begun to relax. The fire behind him has doubled in size, making it impossible to ignore.

“Who’s in the trunk?” you ask, kissing the bridge of his nose right where your punch landed. It takes everything in him not to blush. “Someone that did want to hurt you but don’t worry. I hurt him first.” “What did he want with me?” “You’re joking, right?” he laughs, “There’s a trail of corpses behind you in the name of a mission no one knows anything about. They’re coming for you. You have to stop.” This was bound to happen. An occupational hazard. When you run around fucking shit up you draw attention to yourself and it’s never the good kind.

This is the life you signed up for though. Turning back isn’t an option. “You know I can’t do that.” “Yes you can,” he says, the pain in his voice undeniable, “I’ll keep them off of you as long as I can but once they get to me—” You kiss him, letting the blanket fall to your feet as you cup his face. “Don’t talk like that, Hwa. I won’t let them touch you. I promise.” The kiss heats up rapidly. The knowledge that you still care for each other deeply drives you into a breathless frenzy.

You tear at each other’s clothes. His hands traverse your curves, massaging your ass and thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Your everything. Before you know it you’re laid out over the pile of clothes, his tongue rolling across your nipple as he parts your thighs to stroke your pussy. Your throat might be dry but your pussy’s delectably wet. Seonghwa dips a finger into you, humming against a mouthful of your breast as he taps his thumb at your clit. The finger inside of you curls in just the right way to make your hips stutter.

“Mmm, is my girl ready for another one?” You shake your head, nails raking up and down his back, “Two. I want two more.” “Anything for you” he smiles, feeding his fingers into you one by one. He moves his wrist in slow circles, giving you that satisfying fullness in your belly, all the while stretching you in preparation for the cock he can tell you want so badly. You reach down to stroke his length and it jumps for you like an overexcited puppy happy to see its owner. You are its owner. No amount of time apart will change that. You’re the only woman who's ever been able to get him hard as steel and you know it.

“No more fingers. I want you to fill me up” you whisper, tugging at his hair. Seonghwa picks up the pace, fingering you faster just to hear you scream his name. Your hips raise off of the ground, walls locked around his fingers. He wiggles them free, using the hand dripping with your arousal to stroke himself as he aligns with your entrance. He comes up to kiss you, pushing into you until he bottoms out, turning you into a giggling mess.

Watching you has him falling in love all over again. “Fuck, I love it when you’re like this,” he says, lifting one of your legs up and pounding into you. Each thrust is so perfectly angled to please you that you can't even steady your hands enough to touch him. In fact, nothing about you is steady. Your entire body reacts to his, obeying commands without a word spoken. “Ooh, your little pussy’s pulsing. Ready to cum for me already?” he teases, bouncing you on his cock. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes…” your voice trails off, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you crack under pressure.

Seonghwa pins you down harder, slowing down to feel every moment of your release. He may have his sadistic side but his heart never softens more than when he sees you happy. And knowing that he’s the reason why? It gets him every time. He cuddles you as you come down, only peeling his body away from yours when the sudden combustion of a gas tank startles the two of you. “Aww, isn’t that romantic?” he beams. “Romantic?” “Like fireworks.” You roll your eyes, scooching over to lay your head on his chest, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Despite the circumstances, laying here with him is the most peaceful night you’ve had since this all began. It feels almost normal enough to pretend you don't have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Seonghwa disrupts the delusion. Someone has to do it. “Nothing I say will make you back out of this mission, will it?” You sigh, drawing hearts in the sweat that slicks his chest, “No. I have to do this, with or without you and Woo, but I’d prefer with.” Seonghwa hugs you, kissing you on the forehead, “Then ‘with’ it is.”

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Twenty-one

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, injuries word count: 2.8k a/n: gasp!!

pov: matt

"Hey pretty boy," Layla's voice rang through the cold air as I felt her arms wrap around my waist, her chest pressed to my back as she leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. I smiled as I placed my hands on hers before turning my head to look back at her smiling face.

"Hey," I murmured as I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She smiled against me before someone cleared their throat. She pulled away from me and I turned around to see Mia glaring at us from where she stood between Nate and Nick.

Layla moved to stand next to me but I grabbed her wrist, pulling her to stand in front of me as I leaned back against the side of the minivan. I wrapped my hands around her waist before I placed my chin on her shoulder. She placed her hands over mine as she leaned back into me comfortably.

I didn't realise how much I missed being close to her until I lost the opportunity to. The past week my mind had been in a constant state of purgatory, torn between trying to fix whatever rift was between us or deciding if I didn't want to talk to her anymore. Of course, the latter was at the forefront of my mind when I was initially angry but I knew it would hurt me more in the long run. It was a short-term solution and it wasn't what I really wanted.

What happened wasn't worth losing her over.

"You wanna come over?" I asked her quietly and she shivered from my breath fanning against her neck.

"I can't," she answered quietly and I furrowed my eyebrows as she turned to look at me, her brown eyes glowing in the small sunlight that peaked between the clouds, "Gotta help my dad with something."

"Can I come over then?" I asked and she pursed her lips, her eyes scanning my face before she shook her head.

"It's family stuff. I'm sorry," she leaned back, kissing my cheek gently before turning to face the group that was stood in front of us. As much as it bummed me out that I couldn't spend the rest of the day with her, I understood that I couldn't insert myself into her life with no boundaries.

I let my mind travel to tomorrow, realising it was our last game of the season and it was the deciding factor of whether or not we won the finals. I realised that I never updated Layla on our game last week.

"We're onto the finals by the way," I whispered, pulling her attention away from our friends once again and she whipped her head around to look at me, "Tomorrow's the last game."

"You won?" she asked excitedly and I smiled gently, nodding my head as I did so, "That's amazing!"

"What's amazing?" Chris asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at us and Layla smiled as she turned to look at me.

"You guys are in the finals!" she told him with joy and he nodded, a proud smile covering his face, "Why did no one tell me?"

"Probably because you were being a bitch," Mia rolled her eyes and I let my face drop as I felt Layla's energy shift, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"Can you shut the fuck up, Mia?" I spat, my built-up frustration towards her finally spilling over and she frowned as she looked at me in disbelief, "If anything you're the one being a fucking bitch right now."

"Are you serious?" she asked, her mouth hung open as she stared at me and Layla laced her fingers with mine. She squeezed my hand in an attempt to calm me down.

"Dead serious. I told you if you don't stop I'm not gonna be your friend and I'm getting real fucking close to following through with that," I deadpanned, not feeling an ounce of guilt as her face contorted into hurt, "You have no reason to be such a bitch to Layla so fucking stop."

"I can't believe you," she mumbled, her face turning sour as she spun around and began walking out of the parking lot.

"Matt, you didn't have to be so hard on her," Allie spoke softly and I raised my eyebrows as I looked at her.

"How else is she gonna know that I'm that I'm serious? She hasn't listened to me this far," I explained, anger laced through the words that came out through gritted teeth and Layla once again squeezed my hand. I sighed, placing my forehead on her shoulder to calm myself down.

"It's okay," Layla said softly as she ran her thumb across the back of my hand and I shook my head against her shoulder.

"No, it's not," I mumbled and she sighed, leaning her head on top of mine. I felt a sense of peace wash over me, the rest of the world fading away as I only focused on her.

The way she smelled, the way her hand felt in mine, the way her thumb gently caressed the back of my hand and the way her breathing began matching mine. I lost track of time when I was with her, the only time my brain truly shut off was when I was around her. I craved that moment of us alone again and I knew she could sense that.

"Matt," Nick called my name and I reluctantly lifted my head to look at him, "Mom said we need to go grocery shopping for dinner. We gotta leave soon."

"Oh for fucks sake," I grumbled and Layla giggled under her breath making me look at her with a frown, "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, a smile still on her lips as I continued to stare at her, "You're just funny when you're grumpy."

"Alright, Miserable Matt. Let's go," Chris rolled his eyes as he rounded the car to jump in the passenger side and I let my frown deepen at the nickname that had stuck anytime I was anything but happy.

"I don't wanna go," I grumbled quietly enough that only Layla could hear as Nick began climbing into the backseat and Layla slowly pulled away from me as I groaned. She spun around to face me as she gave me a gentle smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, pretty boy," she leaned in, pressing a kiss to my lips before pulling away. She knew I'd get carried away if she let the kiss linger for too long, "Have fun, Miserable Matt."

"Fuck you," I rolled my eyes as she began walking away and I pushed away from the car to stand up.

"I know you want to!" she called cheekily making me snicker as I jumped into the car, mumbling a goodbye to Nate and Allie as they got into his car.

+++

I don't know how many times I'd checked my phone since I messaged Layla asking if we could Facetime. It had been 3 hours and she still hadn't read my message. I was checking my phone every 5 minutes to see if she had replied.

"Dude," Chris deadpanned and I looked over at him from where he sat on the couch, "What are you stressing about?"

"Nothing," I brushed him off and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he went back to scrolling aimlessly on his phone, not bothering to pry further. I picked up my phone again, the notifications still empty and I sighed loudly.

"If you don't put that fucking phone down Matt I'm gonna throw it in the pool," Nick deadpanned and I looked over at him with a frown, "She'll reply when she has a moment. Stop being a psycho."

"I'm not being a psycho," I rolled my eyes, locking my phone as I put it face down on the couch. I slouched further back onto the couch as I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes drifting back to the TV where a random movie was playing.

"I didn't know you were so clingy," Chris joked as he continued scrolling on his phone and I ignored him as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door and I frowned, looking between my brothers.

"We expecting anyone?" I questioned as I got up from the couch, knowing both of my parents were already in bed so it wouldn't be anyone here for them. Both Nick and Chris shook their heads and I hesitantly walked to the front door. I swung it open to find Layla standing there with trembling hands and shaky breaths leaving her mouth. Her hair was covering the majority of her face but when she looked up at me, my heart dropped.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," she choked out as tears sprung to her eyes and I froze for a moment, my body not knowing how to handle the situation.

"Matt, who is it?" I heard Nick's voice appear behind me for a moment before he gasped, "Holy shit. Layls, are you okay?"

"What's going on?" Chris asked and I ignored him as I grabbed Layla's arm to pull her inside. I didn't even close the front door behind me as I pulled her into the kitchen.

"Here, sit on the bench," I told her as shoved the various papers away from the edge of the island before I held her waist to help her up onto the cold marble, "Chris, get the first aid kit."

Chris didn't respond, I only heard him run down the hall to get the first aid kit from the bathroom as Layla caught her breath in front of me. Nick walked over to the freezer, grabbing out an ice pack as I placed my hand on her thigh.

"Baby, are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked, my voice shaking as I took in the pure terror in her eyes and she nodded her head, "Can you tell me where?"

"My back," she croaked out and I sighed when Chris returned with the first aid kit, quickly unpacking it on the bench beside her.

"Can I take this off? I just wanna check the rest of your body," I asked her softly as I grabbed the hem of the pink sweater that had drops of blood splattered over it. She didn't respond verbally, only nodded her head as she unravelled her arms from around her stomach.

I gently pulled the crewneck up as she lifted her arms up for me to slide the material over her head. She was only wearing a thin tank top underneath so it made it easier for me to scan her body for any damage. My heart cracked in my chest when I noticed the myriad of bruises littering her body as she covered her face with her hands. I moved around her, noticing the giant bruise on the lower half of her back. I tried not to stare too long knowing it would make her feel insecure so I let out a breath as I grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face as she sniffled.

"Let me help pretty girl," I whispered as she continued looking down between us in shame and she once again nodded. Chris and Nick just stared at me in worry, their entire demeanour towards her changing now that they realised she was in some sort of danger. I could tell they wanted to help but weren't sure how. I let my eyes scan her face, the cut on her right cheekbone continued bleeding as it dripped down her face slowly and the split on her lip had dried blood around it.

"I can clean the cuts if you want," Chris spoke up softly and Layla turned her head to look at him as she tried to keep herself calm, "I know how to do it properly."

"You okay with that?" I asked her as I grabbed her hand and she hesitated for a moment before she nodded. Chris quickly grabbed the gauze and disinfectant wipes as I moved to stand to her left, still holding onto her hand to bring her any sort of comfort that I could.

"This might sting a little," Chris mumbled as he tore open the packet of wipes before unfolding it. Layla moved her hair out of her face, holding it back with a shaking hand as Chris moved to stand between her legs. As he began wiping around the small gash, she hissed from the pain, "Sorry. I'll try to be quick."

"Matt," Nick said from behind Layla on the other side of the island making me look up at him. He tilted his head down towards her lower back and I leaned forward, noticing the bruise on her lower back seemed to get worse by the minute before he asked Layla quietly, "Layls, does it feel like anything is broken?"

She took a moment to let Chris pull away as her face screwed up in pain before she muttered, "No. Just my back really hurts."

"Can I put the ice pack on it?" Nick asked and she hummed as Chris picked up the tweezers.

"This is gonna hurt," Chris let her know and she hummed once again as Nick placed the ice pack against her back. Chris began picking out small shards of glass that were stuck on the edge of the cut as Layla squeezed my hand. She let out a groan and Chris pursed his lip as he tried to work quickly before he mumbled, "Almost done."

He put the tweezers down before grabbing another disinfectant wipe, ripping the packet open and quickly wiping the cut gently once again. He grabbed another gauze and placed it over the cut before he leaned back.

"Hold that there until the bleeding stops then I'll tape a clean one on after," he explained, his voice calm as she nodded. She replaced his hand with her own, "I'm gonna clean your lip but if you put an icepack on it after it will heal fine."

She hummed in response as he used the disinfectant wipe to clean the cut on her lip before he pulled away and stepped back. She gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes as she whispered, "Thank you."

"Of course," Chris shrugged as he grabbed the wipes and the rest of the trash on the bench beside her.

"Here," Nick said as he leaned over the island and handed me another small ice pack. I nodded thankfully before I placed the ice pack on her lip and she looked at me with heavy eyes. I gave her a small smile as I leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You okay?" I asked quietly and she closed her eyes, shrugging as she shivered.

"Let us know if you guys need anything," Nick said as he rounded the island and Layla looked at them both with sad eyes.

"Sorry for just walking in like this," she said quietly, her voice filled with shame and Nick shook his head as Chris stood in the doorway to go down the hall.

"It's okay. Just glad to know you're okay," he said softly and she gave him a small smile. Both of them exited the room and I moved to stand between her legs, still holding the ice pack against her lip as I looked down at her.

She didn't say anything, she just grabbed my wrist to pull my hand away that was holding the ice pack and she placed her forehead on my chest with a sigh. I let my shoulders drop as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her into me.

We stood like that for a moment in silence as I let her breathe, looking down at her back where the bruise seemed to now be fully formed. I felt a weight on my chest, an anger flushing over me towards whoever did this to her. I knew being angry wouldn't help her right now but I couldn't push down the feeling as it rose throughout my body.

"I'm so tired," she mumbled, snapping me out of my own thoughts as she pulled away from me slightly and I looked down at her once again tear-filled eyes, "This is just so tiring."

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," I whispered as I placed another kiss on her forehead, a few tears spilling down her red cheeks as she tried to steady her breathing, "Do you want to go to my room? We can just lay down for a bit."

She let out a shaky breath before nodding and I pulled away from her. I helped her off of the counter and she grabbed the pink sweater as I grabbed the large ice pack that was against her back. I threw it in the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas since it would cover the surface of her back more before I grabbed her hand and we made our way upstairs slowly, her legs shaky as she walked. As we made our way into my bedroom the only thing that ran through my mind was:

Whoever did this to her, they're going to wish they were dead once I find out.

tags:

@dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @chrizznmetswife @ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219

[daemyra-fire]

• Episode 8 • Season 2

"You are the true Queen,Rhaenyra, i am meant to serve you, and all of these with me Until death, or the end of our story."

"Leave me again at your peril." "I could not, i have tried."

To finish after a while, the eighth episode despite not agreeing with many decisions in this chapter, Daemyra was my top in the chapter, both characters finally made their decisions, One of the moments that I liked the most were Daemon's visions and him realizing that Rhaenyra had to reign, and kneeling while he gives his army while he swears his loyalty to Queen with his life. On the other hand, Rhaenyra finally goes to Harrenhal to see what happens instead of waiting for news without mentioning that she decides that she has to reign over everything, even over the stupid friendship with Alice (I don't mean to offend anyone), but it is necessary that she already decided to go to Kings Landing and I already have "everything on her side", the changes of how she goes to Kings Landing I hope they improve in the third season because that stupid 20 minute conversation does not convince me at all, it is a war! Don't tell me he opened the door because he got bored!. But getting back to what matters, Daemyra, in those 5 minutes that they appear, the episode is worth it. The love in Rhaenyra's eyes and Daemon was delighted that she was going to look for him, so all that's left is to cross our fingers and hope for a better third season without its inconsistencies, and with more Daemyra please!!! Ps. I give all thanks to the gossipy old lady of Westeros, without Simon Strong we would still be wondering if they will see each other or not until the next season, so we love you.

Thanks to all the people who followed the compilation of the two seasons chapter by chapter, you are the best 💗

[monstersandmaw]

Male sharkman x male reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Commission #3 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt! I hope you like it! (For reference, this sharkman is built like King Shark, not a merman with a shark tail).

Contents: human male reader who’s bigger and taller than most, and who usually (and happily) takes care of his friends, meets a big ol’ sharkman on a tropical getaway, who’s big enough and tall enough to take care of him for a change. Some very light D/s undertones but nothing hardcore - just some manhandling and consensual dominance and praise from our big sharkman in the bedroom. Also featuring a sporty werewolf, a sexy werewolf, a cheeky naga, a cinnamon roll satyr, and a smol and shy fellow human, a tropical beach setting, and some mention of alcohol.

Wordcount: 4656

The sun sent red and black patterns dancing over your closed eyelids, and the heat of it on your exposed skin was truly glorious. In the background, the sea brushed against the white sand, barely a whisper to let you know she was still there; that you hadn’t floated away in this blissful paradise.

And to think you’d actually been a bit pissed off with Eric when he’d first said he was having his bachelor party on a tropical island, so far from home. That had been before you’d seen the expanse of silver sand, with those picture-perfect palm trees leaning down over it like curious explorers all inspecting a rare seashell. The water beyond was so clear it looked like a moving glass sculpture, with the sand undulating away beneath it out towards the distant coral reef studded with starfish and shells and a thousand tiny fish.

Someone yelled a warning and you twitched awake, but too late. A wet, cold beach ball landed on your stomach and bounced off into the sand beside you. With a put-upon sigh, you opened your eyes and peered over at where Eric and the others had been playing volleyball with a floaty, too-big beach ball.

It was still within easy reach, so you scooped it up and lobbed it back at them one-armed, and they cheered.

“Thanks big guy!” Fennel hollered at you, and the little flash of the blond satyr’s white tail blended almost perfectly with the pale, glittering water behind him.

“No worries,” you chuckled with genuine affection for your mad bunch of friends before letting your head loll back onto the towel beneath you. You heaved another sigh and stared up at the sky between the fingers of the palm leaves. Deep contentment settled around you, despite the rising racket they were making.

When the roughhousing started to get a bit too boisterous about twenty minutes later, you sat up with a scowl and watched as Alban wrapped his thick, white, marble tail around Eric and held him in place, keeping him from reaching the ball. Eric suddenly doubled over and gave in to the shift, black fur rippling down his spine, claws sprouting at his hands, and Alban released him with a crowing laugh to let him fall into the sand on his face, while Eric’s red swimming trunks ripped open as his werewolf form took over.

“Fuck’s sake,” you muttered fondly and headed over to keep the healthy play from getting too out of hand. They were in public after all.

It had been like this since university, when you’d shared a house with Eric, Alban, Fennel, Sebastián, and Matt in your very first year, and every year after. Between Eric and Sebastián at the full moon, Alban during moulting, and Fennel at change of coat season, you and Matt had put up with an awful lot as the only humans in the house.

Now, Matt was standing on the sand at a safe distance, watching as Eric leapt at Alban, flattening the naga’s human torso into the sand and expelling all the air from his lungs with an ‘oof’ that was audible even as you crossed to them. Fennel, however, had been knocked on his ass and looked a little winded, if otherwise unharmed. You didn’t even think the naga and werewolf had even noticed that he’d been caught up in the fray, which was nothing unusual with them when they started shoving and barging each other around. Sebastián was still up at the restaurant, thank the gods, otherwise he’d have shifted too, and you’d have had two overgrown puppies and a snake as thick and heavy as a felled oak tree to wrangle. Even for a human your size, that was asking a bit too much.

“Oi!” you yelled like a football coach, and to your pleasant surprise, both Alban and Eric looked up and froze, mid-tussle. “Knock it off. This is supposed to be a tropical paradise, and you’re not making it feel like that.” Ignoring them for the time being, you approached Fennel first and held out a hand to him. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, shaking sand out of his golden curls. His hair spilled around his chunky, ram’s horns and ears and joined up with the stripe of pale gold fur that went all along his spine from his shaggy, ovine lower half. “Not the first time I’ve been swept off my feet by a naga,” he grinned as you hauled him back on his hooves.

“Won’t be the last, handsome,” you snorted and looked around at the rest of the beach.

Luckily, there was hardly anyone else about. A spectacular-looking mermaid with a glittering, teal and cyan blue tail that flashed pink when she moved it had hauled herself out of the water and was watching your group of guys with a slender, white-blonde centaur curled up beside her, and you couldn’t tell at that distance if they were impressed or appalled by your friends’ behaviour.

In the water, an orca mer breached the surface with his family, his children shrieking and also crashing back down into the tiny waves with as much glee and abandon as Alban and Eric had displayed on land. Not far from them, the triangular fin of a great white shark cut through the water like a knife through silk.

You paused, wondering if you should alert the family, but then you saw the orca mother clock it and dip beneath the waves. No panic ensued, so you dismissed it as another merfolk, and turned back to your group just as Sebastián sashayed down from the boardwalk and surveyed the carnage on the sand with a raised eyebrow.

“I leave for ten minutes to buy you all drinks, and look what happens,” he said in his lilting, Spanish accent. “Honestly. Here,” he added, and held out the tray of assorted drinks. As you glanced at it, you saw that they were all either beer or cocktails, and with the sun as hot as it was, you rolled your eyes.

“Didn’t you get any water as well?” you asked.

He did have the grace to look a little chagrined, but he didn’t seem all that keen to make the trudge back along the boardwalk to the restaurant at the far end of the beach, so you sighed and grabbed your wallet from your bag. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it.”

“You’re the best,” Fennel said from behind you, his hands already cupped around a piña colada that was almost big enough to bathe in.

“Go slow, yeah?” you said with a shake of your head at him. “And try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

“Whatever you say, big guy!” Fennel giggled. “Oh, and can you get us a litre of Coke while you’re there?”

“And, like, a whole bucket of those amazing fries!” Eric added, his wolf’s voice deep and gravelly but his words still clear enough around his mouthful of fangs.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it,” you sighed with a placating wave of your hand as you turned away.

“You’re the best!” Fennel beamed, followed immediately by a hiccup.

At this rate you were going to need more pitchers of water than you could carry in one go.

The rush of someone rising out of the water behind you down the beach drew your attention — perhaps Alban and Eric had started up again — but your eyebrows rose when you saw a being you’d never actually seen before in person sloshing through the shallows on powerful legs.

Sharkfolk were rare and solitary, once shunned by their merfolk cousins as ‘beast men’ in the same way minotaurs had once been treated as lesser by centaurs simply because they had the head and shoulders of an animal instead of a human. Luckily, things had come a long way since then, but the sharkfolk tended to keep to themselves all the same. This one had red and white swimming shorts on that said ‘coastguard’, and he waved cheerily at the orca family as he left the water and made his way up the beach towards you, also heading towards the boardwalk.

He paused as he drew level with you and he looked you up and down in a way that made you grateful that your own boardshorts were still dry and hanging loose around your hips. His eyes seemed completely black, and his storm-grey head melted seamlessly into a thick neck and broad shoulders to give him a hunched-over look that spoke of immense power. His arms were thickly muscled too, his torso bare and monumental, and criss-crossed here and there with scars. He was also about seven feet tall.

“Big guy?” he chuckled at you, and it took you a moment to catch on; he must have heard Fennel’s enthusiastic exclamation. Yes, you were pretty big — for a human — but not compared to a naga and a shifted werewolf.

“Eh, long story,” you smiled. “And you’re only a foot or so taller than me.”

“I am bigger though,” the sharkman said, flexing his shoulders just enough to make his point, and more than enough to make your mouth go dry.

His smile was all sharp teeth, which didn’t help either. His lips pulled back when he laughed again, the sound deep and rich, and you swallowed, hoping his sense of smell wasn’t as good out of the water as you knew it would be in.

“Titus,” he said by way of introduction as he extended his three-fingered, webbed hand to you. “You heading up to the hotel?”

“Yeah. These losers forgot that only drinking alcohol in the heat is a dumb-ass thing to do, so… someone has to take care of them.” You smiled with affectionate exasperation around the words and rolled your eyes.

Something about that softened his almost brash expression though, and he shrugged his huge, round shoulder. “Big guy who takes care of his friends. Something else we have in common.”

You looked away, cheeks flushing hot when you realised he was flirting with you. “I guess.” You offered him your name as the two of you set off up the sand again, and then asked, “You work here all year round, or are you just here for the tourist season?”

He scratched the back of his head, his sharp, black claws rasping over his sandpaper-rough skin. You loved the watercolour tideline where the dark grey along the top of his head and down his back blurred into the milky white of his pale chest and belly. It made you want to run your hands over it to see if he was sensitive.

You tripped and refocused your attention on his answer.

“Yeah, just here for the season. I tend to move around a lot, you know? Never stay in one place long. Too much of the world to see. They needed a lifeguard for the summer, so I took the job. It’s been easy so far.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” you said, and he shot you another sharp-toothed grin that sent all your blood south.

“I’ll drink to that. Let me buy you one?” You’d been about to refuse, thinking that at least one of the group should stay sober, when he added, “Something soft for now, but maybe I can share a beer with you when I finish work tonight?”

You weren’t used to people being so forward with you, and it made your tongue falter.

Titus misread your surprise as discomfort, and immediately backed off. “Unless I misjudged…? Wouldn’t be the first time a guy’s not been interested…”

“No, no,” you blurted. “No, it’s not that. I just wasn’t expecting… I mean… I’m not exactly used to guys like you… You know… being into guys like me.”

“‘Big guy’?” he asked with incisive intuition, and you nodded.  

A slow, deadly smile spread across his face, lips pulling right back, and the image of him closing those powerful jaws around your shoulder blazed across your imagination; of him letting you feel the prick of each pointed tooth across your skin as he held you down in place beneath him and —

You swallowed.

“Well, it’s not every day I come across someone who’s so…” Titus began, and again, his black eyes raked the length of your body, taking in the shape of you in a way that should have made you self-conscious, but all it did was turn you on, “… exactly my type,” he finished. “Come on, or I’ll get too distracted by you to finish my shift.”

You bit your lip to keep the resulting grin contained, and walked with him along the boardwalk. He used his staff discount, and no small amount of natural charm and charisma, to get you a deal on the Coke and fries, plus another soft drink for you, and he carried two pitchers of iced water for you while you carried the rest, plus an extra pitcher, on a tray back to your friends.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you stepped off the boardwalk and back onto the hot sand.

“Pleasure,” he replied in a quiet, polite rumble and he set the pitchers down near your towel.

The sun had crept around while you’d been away, and the palm trees were now casting a shadow across half of it, so you set the tray down as if it were a picnic blanket and straightened to find him standing much closer than you’d expected.

“So will I see you at the bar tonight?” he asked, large head tilted slightly to the side.

“Yeah,” you croaked, swallowing thickly and nodding. “I’d like that.”

He surprised you then by reaching out and crooking his forefinger, gently lifting your chin a fraction with the knuckle. “Looking forward to it,” he said, and walked away down the beach, leaving you breathless and thrumming all over.

“What was that about?”

Matt’s wispy tenor beside you made you jump and you turned around to find him tucking into the fries and looking up at you with his big, innocent, blue eyes wide and curious.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him and smiled, feeling like the proverbial cat who’d at least been promised the canary. “Just a little something for myself… Make sure you share those with the others…”

“Just getting my turn in before the wolves descend,” Matt protested, but he stalked away towards the others all the same, and you watched him offer them around.

Titus was waiting for you at the bar that evening, wearing dark grey slacks and a form-fitting white shirt that showed off the hulking slope of his shoulders. You wondered vaguely if it had been tailored to include a slit for his sharp fin on the back, and when he turned slightly in conversation with the bartender, you saw that it had. Instead of looking ridiculous, it just looked… inviting; enticing, like it was just asking you to slide your fingertip along the jut of dark, exposed fin and tease the skin beneath the fabric…

He was perched on a tall, metal stool, leaning one elbow against the bar and chatting easily with the spiked lizardfolk working the bar, but when caught sight of you, he jutted his chin in a friendly summons, and you found yourself powerless to do anything but approach.

“Hey,” you said as you joined him, but he didn’t speak for a moment.

He let his jet black eyes roam the length of you again, and you wondered if you should have dressed smarter. When you blurted something about being there for Eric’s bachelor weekend and not having expected to need date clothes, he held up a finger and the words died on your tongue.

“You look perfect,” Titus said in a voice that should have been too quiet to carry above the music and the people, yet you caught every syllable as they shivered through you. “Come, sit,” he said, indicating the empty seat beside him. “Tell me all about yourself.”

To your surprise, it was easy to sit there and just talk to him.

He listened attentively, keeping his gaze locked on you, and although he had bought you both a drink, you almost forgot to sip from it, losing yourself in conversation. He touched you often, laughing and clapping you on the shoulder at a tale from your undergrad days, and when you told him how you usually ended up ‘designated driver’, and how no one believed quite how difficult it could be to wrangle two drunk werewolves and an inebriated naga into a taxi in the dead of winter, he leaned close and rested his three-fingered hand on your upper thigh. His weight pressed the back of your leg into the bar stool and the heel of his palm dug deliciously into the muscle of your quad, and your breath caught.

“You’re kind,” he said, stroking his thumb across the fabric of your trousers. “I hope your friends know that.”

Unexpectedly emotional, you shrugged and glanced down, breaking eye contact. “Yeah, they look out for me too,” you said, and you meant it. “I have to admit though, it’s nice to do something that’s… just for me.”

“You want to get out of here and go back to mine?” he asked, taking his hand off you and leaning back in his seat again.

The decision was in your hands, but you’d already made up your mind hours ago.

You nodded, and he smiled, all joy. “Come on.”

Your feet felt like they were floating as you followed him out of the bar and back out into the balmy evening. Pausing briefly outside, you breathed deeply and inhaled the salt air with a smile on your lips. When you opened your eyes, you found him watching you. He didn’t say anything, but you got the impression he was pleased to see you relax.

His cabin sat a short way from the main hotel, and was sparsely but nicely furnished, with a comfy couch in the living-kitchen area and big, picture windows that overlooked a seating area and the dark ocean beyond. He offered you a drink, but you both knew it was only a pretence. You shook your head and bit your lip, feeling your heartbeat quicken.

Silently, he led you through a door on your left into his bedroom, which had a large bed and white, gossamer curtains that framed a view of the sea. “Tonight is for you,” he said, leaning down over your shoulder from behind and purring in your ear. Your breath hitched again when his large hand landed at the small of your spine and he added, “Will you let me take care of you?”

Unable to form words for a moment, you just nodded.

“Good. Now, I can’t kiss you the way a human would, but I’m going to make sure you feel good, alright?”

“Uh-huh,” you managed.

Before he went any further, you clarified that you were comfortable going without a condom, since sharkfolk didn’t catch or transmit human diseases, and he nodded. That done, he turned you around and backed you slowly up against the closed bedroom door with just his advancing presence and a low, insistent growl. Given that most of your partners before that had been human, and smaller than you, the sensation was wonderfully foreign. Your body relaxed, your breath coming in fast, shallow gasps through open lips, and his growling grew louder, the sound filling the room like an idling engine.

“I can smell you,” he said, looming over you and nuzzling the tip of his nose against the soft, vulnerable side of your neck. “I can taste you,” he went on before nipping at your skin and letting his tongue lick a hot, wet stripe across your racing pulse.

You let out a weak ‘oh’ and tried to keep your knees from giving out.

Then his black eyes rolled back a little to show a delicate crescent moon of white in each, his lips peeled back off his teeth, and he slowly took the whole of your left shoulder joint and most of your neck in his mouth.

Under different circumstances, you might have been embarrassed by the high, broken wail that left you at the sensation of being pinned and held completely in place by someone so powerful, but in that moment, endorphins flooded through you and your awareness tunnelled down to just the prick of teeth through the fabric of your shirt and the massive hand that had closed around your right wrist.

“Fuck,” you hissed and he rumbled in pleasure at your reaction.

He ground his hips against you and you could feel how hard he was already. His tongue laved across your throat again, tasting you, and he drew back with a heavy exhale, eyes returning to that full, midnight black as he regarded you. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, ever since I saw you on the beach earlier,” he said. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Get on the bed for me.”

In no time at all, you had lain back, naked, and Titus was halfway out of his own clothes when he caught sight of you and swore softly, shaking his head.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, resuming his efforts at undoing his fly. “I’m going to wreck you.”

Another little mewl escaped you and your cock ached to be touched, but he hadn’t said you could, so you just lay there with it leaking over your stomach.

“Good,” he said as he slid his trousers over his hips and you saw his cock.

 Thick, hard, and huge, it was everything you wanted, and you let out a barely restrained, “Please…”

“All in good time,” he purred, smiling again in a way that was hardly more than just a baring of his teeth. It was a smile that promised pleasure with the pretence of danger, and it lit you up all over.

To your surprise though, Titus actually took his time enjoying your body, but the thrill of having him run his tongue along the length of your cock while carefully keeping all his teeth out of the way was almost enough to make you spill. You could feel the way your body was practically there already, your thighs and torso shaking with want, your hands scrabbling at the sheets beneath you each time he took you into his mouth and curled his strong tongue around your cock, your spine arching, your blood pounding, but it wasn’t quite enough. Titus grinned and reached for the bottle of lube in his nightstand.  

After he’d teased your ass with his thumb for a while, being very careful of his claws around the sensitive ring of muscle, he knelt above you, lifted your right leg, and eased the tip of his huge cock inside you, inch by inch, until you were so full you could hardly draw breath.

“Oh fuck,” you hissed when he finally sank to the hilt inside you and went still.

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” he crooned, holding your hips in both of his three-fingered, claw-tipped hands. “You look so good like this for me. Gods, look at you, you’re so full. You’ve taken all of my cock…”

A garbled noise left your lips and you sobbed another ‘please’, which prompted him to draw almost all the way out again.

Slowly, attentively, he fucked you, moving with care until you were accustomed to the massive stretch of him, but before too long he began to pick up his pace, and each thrust grew a little stronger. Titus grabbed your hips and lifted you, drawing you closer so that he could fuck you deeper, and changing the angle so that each stroke caught you just-so, and you could no longer help the noises that left you in a constant stream of nonsense.

“Please, please… please…” you choked. Your cock was still untouched because he hadn’t said you could touch yourself, and it drooled all over your belly each time he thrust his hips.

He began to growl in an unending, uncontrollable strain that made your ears ring.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he said, the movements getting faster and harder, and the rhythm a little unsteady. “Oh gods, you’re gonna make me come…”

He lowered your hips back down so that he could reach around your raised leg and wrap his huge hand around your cock while you held both legs up, fully exposing yourself to him. “Yes, good, like that,” he snarled and you offered him a dopey smile. “Just like that. You look so good for me. So good. You’re gonna make me come. I’m gonna come…”

He worked you hard and fast in time with his own movements, and in a few seconds, you came with a shout, your body clenching tight around his big cock.

Titus roared, and you opened your eyes again just in time to watch his black eyes roll back to reveal only the whites.

His lips peeled all the way back, showing his pale gums and that row of lethal teeth. Bellowing, he arched his back, pressed his hips flush to your body, and spilled inside you. He let go of your cock and grabbed your other hip, pulling you right down onto him as close as he could, and you yelled again at the beautiful oversensitivity of it as he came inside you.

When he finally finished, his eyes rolled back to normal, and he set you gently down onto the mattress again. Spent and drained of strength, your legs flopped listlessly, and he also stayed put for a minute longer as if he hadn’t expected his orgasm to be so intense. His cock still twitched from time to time inside you, and he bowed his head over you, breathing hard.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he grunted. “You ok?”

“Mmm,” you sighed, body lax and exhausted and aching in all the right ways.

Titus offered you an oddly shy smile and then carefully withdrew.

He cleaned you up with a tenderness that surprised you a little after his display of dominance and strength, but he seemed to enjoy the process almost as much as he had making the mess in the first place.

When he caught you looking up at him with an almost misty-eyed expression, he quirked his head. “What? I told you I was going to enjoy looking after you.” After a pause, he added, “I saw how you were with your friends. You’re always taking care of them, aren’t you?”

Too embarrassed to respond, you just shrugged and let him keep wiping the warm washcloth over your upper thighs and across your stomach in slow, soporific strokes that made your eyelids heavy and your spine turn to water.

“You deserve to be taken care of as well,” Titus rumbled, and then he lowered his blunt, shark’s muzzle to your inner thigh and gave you the closest approximation he could of a kiss. He nuzzled the sensitive skin there and around the crease of your hip, just teasing your balls with his tongue and then moving up over your belly in an act that was as much admiration as it was clean-up.

“You’re exquisite,” he said, and then he lay down facing you on his side, wash-cloth abandoned somewhere out of sight, and pulled you into his arms. “Come here. You want to stay the night?”

“Please,” you nodded as you rolled over, letting his huge arms encircle you as he tugged your back flush to his front and then reached down to pull the sheets up around you.

You'd honestly never fallen so quickly or so deeply asleep in your life.

__

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Library/Story Archive Blog

[me-and-my-3lovers]

A Helping Hand

Human! Jensen Ackles x Alpha! Male Reader Smut!

When a slip-up in a drinking game changes your life years later.

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Background : Alphas, Betas, and Omegas are rare. Only about 10,000 of them are in the world, everyone else is a normal human. You have been on Supernatural since the beginning as Sam's twin brother, and now you’re on The Boys with Jensen too.

Word Count : 1.3k

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, drinking, foreplay, oral sex, male fingering, male-on-male sex, knotting, scenting, polyamory kind of. That should be it, let me know if I need to add more. This is my first fic!

Masterlist

-- 2017 --

Filming is tiring and we finally hit a free weekend. No conventions, no shooting, and Jared, Jensen, and Misha decided to stay in Vancouver. We were in Jensen's apartment. Feeling nice and tingly when Jared suggested a drinking game, two truths, and a lie.

"So," Jared started, about 5 shots into our little drinking game "y/n, truth or dare?"

"That's not even the game we're playing!" Misha says, his third shot in his hand.

"Shhhhhhh." Jensen whispered, too far gone for discretion or grace, "Let it happen,"

Your head is pounding already, "Fine, I choose truth." You said, preparing yourself to take another shot.

"Out of the three of us here, who would you rather knot?" Jared asked, a smirk forming on his face.

You couldn't think straight. You realized too late that it'd have been better to just take the shot instead of answering. "Jensen, he smells the best."

Both Misha and Jared started wooing and cheering. Jensen took another sip of his beer while blushing.

"But why not me?" Jared asked, throwing you his puppy dog eyes.

"Because you're annoying," Misha answered before me.

"And you stink!" I added before taking another shot.

The entire night was a haze the next morning. Everyone was hungover and wanted to go back to bed. But Jensen remembered what you said about knotting him and he pondered what you meant by that for years.

-- 2023, The Boys season 2 set--

"You're close to your rut," Jensen says as he walks up behind you.

"How would you know, tracking it?" You asked sarcastically, grabbing a plate and a mini powdered doughnut.

"I talked to Misha, you've been irritable the whole day." Jensen follows suit and grabs a powdered doughnut.

"And why are you talking to Misha about my rut?" you asked between bites.

"Because he lives with you and because I know about your… arrangement." Jensen says as he takes his first bite.

"Cryptic. Now if you’re done here we have a fight scene to shoot." You dismiss the conversation, and walk away, leaving Jensen with his unfinished doughnut.

After filming for the day, Jensen comes up to you at your apartment.

"When I opened the door I thought you'd have more clothes on." You say as Jensen greeted you, only wearing his Soldier Boy robe.

"May I?" Jensen asks motioning to enter.

"Why not," You shrug, opening the door a little more to allow Jensen to walk in before closing it. Looking at him you wonder what he's here for.

"You need someone to help you with your rut. You’re too old to go through a rut yourself." Jensen says with the utmost sincerity. There it is.

"Old?! I'm four years younger than you! And what do you know about alphas and ruts? I've gone almost my whole life dealing with my rut myself," You cross your arms like a defiant five-year-old.

"I know that every time you’ve dealt with it alone you've come out the other end looking worse than shit." Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know it’s harder for you to deal with it yourself, so let me help you." Jensen grabbed your hand and squeezed it, "I talked to Danneel and Misha, they both agreed to let me help you. Don't be stubborn, please." Jensen kissed your knuckles and then stared into your eyes waiting for an answer.

"You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into." You caress his cheek with your other hand, "It's not a pleasant experience. I won't be me. I'm animalistic, borderline violent, during my rut…" You turn away, looking anywhere but his eyes.

"I'll be fine," As Jensen pulls you in for a hug, you take a deep inhale. He smells like firewood, vanilla, and sea water.

"Are you- did you- you couldn't have…" You press your bodies closer so you can smell it better, "You're wearing Omega perfume!"

"Since I came here." Jensen chuckles and starts petting your hair as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, "My little alpha,"

You back Jensen against the wall suddenly. "Careful Jen, you shouldn't say that unless you mean it." Your eyes were completely red, the rut hit you like a freight train after smelling the omega perfume. "It's dangerous."

"I like dangerous… Alpha."

You swiftly strip off Jensen's robe as well as your t-shirt before crashing your lips together. He tastes like mint and vanilla. Jensen quickly undoes your belt and pulls down your jeans before you flip him against the wall. You start kissing down Jensen's back painfully slow. Taking your time to kiss his shoulder blades, and his lats. God was he beautiful, and built like a brick shit house to boot. You made sure to run your tongue down his spine before reaching his magnificent ass. You took your time massaging each cheek before spreading them apart to get to your prize.

You licked his ass hole and he moaned like a wanton whore. It was primal and guttural like he'd been waiting for this. You let your hands squeeze his hips as you licked him again, and again, and again, until he started begging you to do more. You had the tip of your tongue pressed against his ass hole but not penetrating.

"Fuck me!" He sounded gruff and demanding.

You slowly pushed your tongue into his warm hole, circling as much area as you could. Jensen pushed his ass back into your face, wanting you to go deeper, explore more. Your tongue kept the same rhythm, in and out, in and out, getting him all nice and wet. When you pulled your tongue away, he started whimpering before you pushed a finger into him.

"God, want more, need more"

His hips started moving when you added a second finger. Spreading his ass open with both fingers, getting him prepped to take you. When you added a third finger his head rolled back and you felt his ass flutter around your fingers. He was ready.

You removed your fingers and got up from your knees. You flipped Jensen around so he was facing you. You grabbed the back of his thighs to lift him up and push his back against the concrete wall. Pinned between you and the wall, Jensen's ass was hovering over your dick.

"We can stop right now. We can forget this ever happened and go back to our normal lives." You whispered into his neck, still nuzzling where he put the perfume on.

"Alpha," That was all Jensen needed to say before you lowered him onto your dick. Jensen took a deep inhale once you were completely sheathed. "I never knew it would feel this good," Jensen panted. You growled and rested your forehead against his, giving both of you some time to adjust.

You kissed Jensen on the lips, then his cheek, then his neck, and then back up to his lips before you started thrusting. His ass felt like heaven and quenched the burning feeling in your body. Pulling out until only the tip was in before slowly thrusting back in. You kept that pace until Jensen wanted more.

"Faster, harder, I need more alpha!" God, that did something to you. You picked up the pace and you could feel your knot start to swell. Jensen was bouncing against the wall and you could feel his pre-cum leaking on your stomach. Both of your bodies burning hot and looking for release. "Right there, oh god, right there," Jensen moaned into your ear, and scratched down your back.

The pace was brutal and he was taking it beautifully. My Omega, my Omega, beautiful Omega, Omega, Omega, Omega. You bared your teeth against his neck.

"Alpha!" Jensen came and you could feel his cum against your chest. Jensen laid his head back against the wall, neck all exposed and sweaty as he was coming down from his high.

You barely refrained from claiming him as your knot popped and you came in him. Both of you coming down from your highs, you took him to your room and laid him onto your bed. Jensen closed his eyes as soon as his head hit the pillow. Both of you were exhausted and out of breath.

"Good night Jen," You kissed his forehead, "Thank you for this,"

" 's was amazing," Jensen grumbled back, cuddling into you, "love you."

"I love you too, now to to bed."

[kybercrystals94]

Local Flavors

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 5 | "You're a bad liar." | "Need a hand?"

Rated: G | Words: 1733 | Summary: Domestic living has a learning curve.

Hunter stares at the basket of small, glass canisters, each filled with some kind of crushed plant or seed. He hopes the bewilderment he feels isn’t evident in his expression when he looks up at the woman, their immediate neighbor to the west, Kyly. “Thank you,” he says. 

Kyly grins at him. “You don’t know what they are, do you?” 

Hunter considers lying, but he considers a moment too long for it to be convincing. “No,” he admits. 

“They’re seasonings,” Kyly says, as though that simply explains it. 

It doesn’t. 

“Ah,” Hunter says anyway.

Kyly rolls her eyes. “For cooking. For flavor.” She starts sorting through the bottles, rattling off the meaningless names of each. That’s when Hunter notices they are labeled in pretty, decorative font…probably hand written by Kyly herself. 

“Let me know if you need any help figuring out what to use with what,” Kyly concludes with a charming, toothy smile. She wiggles her fingers when she waves goodbye, and walks away, disappearing around the corner. 

A snicker behind him makes Hunter’s face and ears burn.

“Making friends, are we?” Crosshair asks. “Pretty friends.” 

“Knock it off, Cross. Kyly just brought us a housewarming gift,” Hunter mutters, turning and shouldering past his brother to deposit the basket of seasonings on the kitchen counter. 

Crosshair plucks one of the bottles from the basket, holds it up and shakes it. “What the kriff is this stuff?” 

“Seasoning,” Hunter says. “For cooking.” 

Crosshair manages to screw off the lid one handed, sniffing at the contents suspiciously. He makes a face. “I do not want this on my food.” 

Hunter snatches it away from him. “You wouldn’t know good flavor if it bit you in the shebs,” Hunter says. He doesn’t mention that he can smell the seasoning in question without lifting it to his nose, nor does he admit that it doesn’t smell appetizing. Instead, he screws the lid on tight and puts the questionable seasoning aside. 

“And you do?” Crosshair snarks back. “Maybe you should take Kyly up on her cooking lessons.” 

Hunter rolls his eyes. “It isn’t intergalactic science. I’m sure I can figure it out.” 

“You do that,” Crosshair says with an annoying smirk Hunter wants to slap off his face. 

Crosshair must sense the threat, good soldier that he is, and slips through the front door before Hunter does anything drastic. 

***

Omega and Wrecker return from the docks as the usual time for evening meal approaches. As they approach the house, Omega sniffs at the air. “Do you smell that?” 

Wrecker takes a deep breath through his nose, carefree expression crumbling into a look of utter disgust. “It smells like something died.” 

“That stench is dinner.” Crosshair slinks out from behind the house, arms crossed with a pleased look on his face. 

Wrecker and Omega exchanged horrified glances. 

“What happened to it?” Omega asks. 

Crosshair flashes her a feral grin. “Hunter.” 

Wrecker gapes. “How? 

“Oh, I assure you he took great care in destroying every semblance of edibility,” Crosshair says. 

Omega makes a face. “Hunter wouldn’t ruin food on purpose.” 

“He’s trying to impress our neighbor by using the housewarming gift she brought this afternoon,” Crosshair says loftily, leaning against the railing of the front porch. “Problem is, he doesn't know kark about seasonings.” 

“Hey, language,” Wrecker grumbles. 

Omega, unfazed, clasps her hands together. “You mean Kyly?” 

“Yep,” Crosshair says, popping the ‘p’ with finality. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Omega coos, but another waft of clashing flavors drifts by, and her demeanor crumbles. “Maybe we should ask her how to use them instead of just…” 

Crosshair huffs. “I tried to tell him that.” He pokes Omega in the forehead. “It's your turn.” 

“Me?” Omega squeaks. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings!” 

“You think I do?” Crosshair asks. 

Omega narrows her eyes. “It hasn’t stopped you from telling him anything before.” 

Crosshair shrugs, conceding the point. 

“Well, one of us has to tell him,” Wrecker groans. “Otherwise, we’re never gonna eat anything good ever again.” 

“Be our guest, Wrecker,” Crosshair says. “Break a poor man’s heart.” 

Wrecker balks. “He has to know. I mean, can’t he smell it? What’s the point of enhanced senses if you can’t smell what you’re cooking?”

“As hard as it is to believe, Hunter isn’t perfect,” Crosshair retorts. 

Omega’s shoulders sag. “Fine. I’ll tell him.” 

***

The moment they walk in the door, Hunter is on them. “Just in time for late meal,” he says cheerfully. 

Omega’s resolve melts like an ice cone in the late afternoon sun. 

Crosshair gives her shoulder a nudge, and Omega subtly shakes her head. Her youngest brother sighs. “You said…”

“Shh,” Omega hisses. 

They sit down at the table. Some sort of dish is displayed in the middle. 

“It’s called a casserole,” Hunter tells them. “I found the recipe on the holonet.” 

“Did you follow it?” Crosshair asks. 

Omega kicks his shin under the table. 

“What’s in it?” Wrecker eyes the food like it’s a coiled snake about to strike. 

Hunter lists off the ingredients. “There were measurements, but we don’t have measuring spoons. Any seasonings we didn’t have, I substituted for ones that looked the same color and texture.”

“Maker, help us,” Crosshair breathes. 

Omega takes a deep breath. Maybe it will taste better than it smells. Bravely, she wraps a fist around the serving spoon and scoops a generous helping of casserole onto her plate. She has to bite her cheek from grimacing at the reek that curls up in rolling steam. 

She is surprised when Crosshair follows her example next, then Wrecker. Hunter serves himself last.

Then they sit in loud silence, waiting for someone else to try it first. Finally, Wrecker picks up his fork, spears the prongs into the casserole, and takes a bite. Omega and Crosshair watch him carefully, waiting for the facial contortion soon to follow the courageous act. Wrecker barely chews, swallowing with a gulp. 

“Mmmm,” he says, but his eye twitches.

Hunter frowns, looks down at his own plate for a moment, then takes a huge bite. His eyes widen before he spits the mouthful out into his napkin. “It’s awful!” 

“It’s not that bad,” Wrecker says. 

Hunter casts him a withering look. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

Crosshair heaves a heavy sigh, shoving his plate across the table. “In his defense, you should have known it was terrible before either of you took a bite.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hunter asks, looking genuinely confused. 

“Can’t you smell it? It smells terrible…Wrecker thought something died when he and Omega got back to the house…and they spent the day at the docks,” Crosshair says. Omega tries to catch Crosshair’s eye, tries to signal him to shut up, but Crosshair successfully misses every cue thrown his way as he adds, “I bet Kyly could smell it from her house.” 

Hunter looks mortified. “And you didn’t tell me? Why didn’t you say something before I kriffing served it?” He stands up and begins gathering the plates, dumping the untouched casserole back into the dish. He gives a sharp whistle, and Batcher comes bounding into the dining area, a place she is normally forbidden. “Here, girl. Got something special for you,” Hunter says, putting the dish on the ground. 

Batcher snuffles at it loudly before slowly backing away. 

Omega can’t help the snort of laughter that bubbles up, and she claps both hands over her mouth to try and stifle it. She doesn’t dare make eye contact with Wrecker or Crosshair. 

“Well,” Hunter mutters, “looks like we’ll be eating in the market tonight.” 

***

The next morning, Omega knocked on Kyly’s door. The woman answered immediately. “Omega! What a pleasant surprise. I was just making morning tea. Please, please, won’t you join me?” 

Before Omega could answer one way or another, she was pulled inside and guided to a lovely little table covered in a crocheted cloth and a vase stuffed full of wild island flowers. Kyly left to the kitchen and returned with another cup and saucer and placed them at the other seat. 

“Do you take cream or sugar?” Kyly asks, sitting down across from Omega and pouring the hot, aromatic beverage into Omega’s delicate cup. 

Omega admires the thin curving teacup, so different from the thick mugs her brothers drank caf from each morning. “I like both, please,” Omega says. 

Kyly drops two large lumps of sugar and a generous splash of cream. Omega carefully imitates Kyly in stirring the tea with a spoon, the soft tink, tink, tink sounding absolutely musical.

“Now, what can I do for you?” Kyly asks. 

“I wanted to thank you for the seasonings you brought yesterday,” Omega says. She takes a careful sip of tea and is pleasantly surprised by its mild, sweet flavor.

Kyly smiles. “I grew the herbs in my garden and dried them myself. Have you gotten to try any of them yet?” 

“Hunter used some last night,” Omega admits carefully. “I’m not sure we know how to use them…properly. We grew up on rations and formulated meals from Kamino. We don’t have a lot of experience being–” Omega searches for the proper word. 

“Domestic?” Kyly supplies. 

Omega grins. 

“Perhaps,” Kyly says slowly, “I might be able to lend a hand.” 

***

“I need your help,” Omega says, standing in Hunter’s doorway. 

Hunter is towling his hair dry after washing up from his morning and afternoon spent down on the docks with his brothers. He glances at his sister. “With what?” 

“Late meal,” Omega chirps happily, bouncing on her toes. 

Hunter levels her an unamused glare. “Hard pass.” 

“Ah, c’mon, Hunter,” Omega says. “I promise it will turn out better than last night.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hunter deadpans. 

“Kyly told me this recipe is Hunter-proof,” Omega says, matching Hunter’s tone; however, her eyes are glittering with stark amusement. 

Burning embarrassment scorches up Hunter’s neck and across his face. “Kyly said that?” 

“Well,” Omega amends gleefully, “maybe she didn’t say Hunter-proof.”

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Fine. But if this goes wrong, we’re blaming you. I can only be responsible for one botched supper a week.” 

“Fine by me,” Omega says, shrugging one shoulder and grinning at him. 

Hunter huffs and follows his giggling sister into the kitchen. 

***

That night, when a hearty fish stew tastes every bit as wonderful as it smells, Omega gives Hunter all the credit. 

END

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[ashensgrotto]

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 3)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (You are Here) Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author's Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui 's annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don't write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will had links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree with anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

***

Play the song you sang long ago

And wherever the storm may blow

You will find the key to my heart

We'll never be apart

***

“...And how is everything going with our trio?” Mr. Crowley had called both Trein and Crewel into his office along with Grimsley for a meeting that night after the rest of the staff had left for the day.

“Absolutely swimmingly,” Professor Crewel answered with a psychotic grin on his face, “Only nearly got my head bitten off by two mers today, but other than that, we’re fine!”

“You weren’t even near the pool,” Professor Trein let out a sigh, rolling his eyes heavenward, before turning toward Mr. Crowely, “The subjects have allowed test number 03182020 to interact with them as well as talk with them. We know that both of the morays see 03182020 as a match, we are still waiting for the octopus to make the decision as well.”

“I heard about that attack,” Mr. Crowley leaned forward on his desk, elbows resting on the surface as his long fingers criss crossed each other, “and the morays’ first instinct was to protect, not only the octomer, but 03182020 as well?”

“Yes, sir,” Trein answered.

“Hmmm…” Crowley shifted, fiddling a contract in his hands before one nail tapped against the desk.

“Whacha thinking?” Grimsley asked, a dark brow raised in question.

“We don’t have much time left before the contract is up - I had sort of hoped it wouldn’t come to this, not yet at least,” Mr. Crowely stood from his desk, moving toward the window and looking out into the courtyard behind the office, “When was the last time they went into heat?”

“All three had experienced their urges around September last year,” Crewel answered, pressing his hands into his pockets, “Now, normally for moray eels, their mating season runs from July to September - and octopi fry are typically hatching at this point.”

“And if they are anything like their counterparts,” Trein mused, “The twins and the octomer will likely die following the mating process.”

“Hold on, these things die after mating?” Grimsley cocked a brow at the two of them.

“Unfortunately so,” Crewel answered with a nod, “Octopi will mate somewhere between November and early February - following that process, the female will eat the male before she goes into incubation. The few lucky males that are able to escape their mate’s hungry clutches eventually succumb to death a few months after the mating process - some male Giant Pacific octopi have also been known to get dementia before passing. As for the females, after they lay their clutch of eggs - which can be roughly around a hundred thousand, they starve themselves and sometimes tear themselves apart piece by piece. After the eggs hatch, she succumbs to death as well - leaving all of her fry to the current of the sea and one can only hope some of the eggs make it.”

“As for morays,” Trein answered, “depending on the type, males and females will travel to a particular spot and breed there, the males - exhausted from the travel and mating - pass away. The female will incubate her clutch - which is about ten thousand eggs - before laying them in the rocky beds among seaweed before passing away as well. If the water is warm enough, the eggs will only take about 30 to 45 days to hatch - sometimes sooner depending on the temperature of the water.”

“Sheesh, talk about a sexual turn off,” Grimsley crossed his arms over his chest.

“But, we don’t know if mers act in the same fashion,” Crewel answered, “I’m guessing that they follow some of the same mating habits as their counterparts, but not all of them.”

“And we won’t know anything unless we try something,” Crowley spoke, turning toward the duo, “We can't wait seven months, it's now or never. Speed the process up - add about three degrees to the pool each day and try to see how the mers’ attitudes change toward 03182020 in the coming weeks. I want to see some results before the end of next month.”

“Consider it done,” Crewel and Trein smiled as their hands rested over their hearts, a sign of their understanding.

"We've got one last shot - do not fail me."

***

Floyd and Jade greeted you in their usual fashion the following morning, with chirps, clicks, and echoes of ‘Hello’ and your name.

“Good morning,” you smile with a soft wave at the duo, “Are you guys hungry?”

“Hungry!” Floyd shouts, back flipping into the water to toss it in your direction before reappearing on the surface again.

You only snort, pulling the buckets from the freezer before strolling toward the edge of the pool, kneeling down to deposit the contents into the murky depths. 

Before you can do so, however, both of the twins pounce. Jade had shifted so his upper body laid behind you on the edge of the pool, his long tail still draped into the water with your shoulders trapped between his webbed hands as his face buried itself into your hair, cool breaths tickling your nape; Floyd, on the other hand, had attached himself to your front - arms wrapped tightly around your waist with his head tucked under your chin as he rested against your chest. Soft clicks and coos came from both brothers as they twisted their bodies closer to yours, noses nuzzling your warm skin as the slippery film that coated their bodies clung to your skin and clothing.

“Safe?” Jade had asked after a moment, pulling away and looking directly at your face.

“Safe?” you ask, confusion slowly writing across your features.

“Shimpy safe, Jade,” Floyd grinned, sharp teeth on display.

“Wait a minute, who are you calling shrimpy?!”

The twins only clicked and chuckled before removing themselves from you, though each still clung onto each of your hands, sharp nails tracing the smooth skin of your wrists as the two brothers chattered with each other.

It was then that it dawned on you.

Following the arrival of Crewel after the first encounter with Azul the previous day, the twins had believed that you, maybe even Azul, were in danger - hence why Floyd had acted like a guard dog most of the day, even going so far as to refuse to return to the water. It had been yours and Jade’s gentle urging that allowed him to submerge under the water, allowing the gills behind his ears and on his sides to breath again; now, Jade - on the other hand - had paced the water, keeping one eye on the set of glass double doors and growling any time someone walked by it. When you set out to leave for the day, both of the twins had let out ferocious growls that you jumped in your skin - but seeing you frightened was the last thing they wanted. You had made it clear that you were going to be careful and that you would return in the morning like usual - the two could do so little as they watched you leave, worry filling their brown and gold gazes.  

You shouldn’t have been surprised since the two were likely very apprehensive about you and maybe had been up all night, wondering if or when you would return - and when you did, they wanted to make sure that you were safe; no injuries or pain on your body from the other humans that had made appearances prior to your arrival.

You smiled and patted both of their heads, trying to show some reassurance, “Don’t worry, guys. I’m okay. I was just a little nervous from that incident yesterday.”

Jade growled while Floyd hissed in agreement.

“I swear I’m okay,” you sigh, dipping your hands into the water as you lay on your stomach before the duo, “I wasn’t attacked or anything, I don’t have any bruises or cuts - nothing worth reporting. So, please be a bit more gentle when the others come in. I know you guys like me and all, but you also have to work with them too - after all, they brought me here to look out for you and vice versa.”

The twins looked at each other before clicking in agreement, although Floyd looked dejected - likely hoping you’d allow him to do more than splash the intruders during your time together.

You could only chuckle before standing and taking the knocked over bucket of seafood and depositing it over the side, “I hope you guys are hungry. You look like you both deserve this one!”

***

The next two weeks pass by slowly as you continue your interactions with the duo - now turned trio.

Azul made his appearance again a day or two after the Crewel incident, but only stayed and watched your interactions with the twins for a few minutes before disappearing beneath the surface again. Every time you saw him, you waved at him - trying to reach a hand out to accept your presence into the group, especially since Crewel had interrupted that near precious moment between the two of you; Azul was always shocked to see you wave at him and slowly began copying the movement with the tips of his fingers peeking out from beneath the water. He began to grow bolder, appearing closer and closer to the pool’s edge with each passing day until by the end of the second week, he was greeting you with the twins as you walked in - clicks and coos higher pitched than the twins'.

“Hey guys!” You grin, setting your bag down and heading over to the freezer, “And I see Azul decided to join us this morning! Nice to see you again!”

Azul ducked his head down, but you had seen the blush slowly creep up his face - turning his face and ears a deep shade of blue.

You giggled, setting the buckets down before them. You had stopped dumping the contents into the water earlier last week, instead handing out the food to the hungry mers as a way to continue to build trust between the four of you. Azul was far too nervous to approach you at the time, so you had tossed what he was interested in eating towards him - allowing you to get a good glimpse at his tentacles for the first time. They were long and black with a purple underbelly and multiple suckers that appeared to be the size of quarters and half-dollar coins. Whenever you tossed something in his direction, one of his appendages would shoot out of the water like a snake launching at its prey. It was fascinating to watch the tentacle curl around the meal, nearly crushing it within its grasp - the dozens upon dozens of suckers clutching it tightly as if it was afraid to let go.

 After giving the impatient twins their choice of meals, you smile at Azul, “What would you like? I still have some crab, shrimp, some fish, and a few snails left over…”

Azul looks into the bucket that is turned on its side before several tentacles reached forward and pulled several pieces of fish and crab from the container before dipping below the surface to eat.

You take the remaining contents and dump it over the side before standing to get your notes. You flip through the filled pages as you take a seat on the edge of the pool, your shoes discarded so you can soak your feet in the water. You absent-mindly begin to hum, your head swaying with the tune that had been trapped in your head for a few hours at least. 

Something slimy touches your foot, causing you to jerk slightly before you realize Azul had attempted to touch you. He looked broken as he regarded you, moving a bit away from you.

“Hey, it’s ok,” you offer your hand out, palm upward, “you just startled me is all.”

A soft click comes from the octomer as he comes to your side again, slowly.

“There we go, I won’t hurt you.”

The scene plays itself out how it should have been the first day Azul approached you; his hand slips into yours, allowing you to feel the surprising smoothness of his skin. One tentacle slips around your ankle, squeezing slightly as his gaze remains on your smiling face. You recalled reading somewhere that octopi used their suckers to help them travel along the ocean floor, but they were also used to taste by touch. Azul was likely testing to see if you were good enough to eat - maybe.

"Am I tasty?" you joked, which earned you a disapproving grunt from the octomer.

You giggled and reached out with your other hand to touch the top of another tentacle that had made its way up the side of the pool. It felt like a soaked piece of gummy candy - slimy and smooth - before lifting the edge and admired the pale lavender-colored suckers, rubbing your thumb slowly around the inner edge. Azul squeaked slightly, the tentacle around your ankle squeezing tighter and causing you to wince.

"Hey, not so tight there," you pull your legs up from the water and away from Azul’s grasp.

The octomer whined, his hands reaching out and clutching the ankle that had been in his grasp. Your eyes widened at the sight of multiple little circles that surrounded your ankle - deep blue in color and slowly turning darker to a dark purple. Azul releases you and ducks down so you can only see the top of his head and his eyes as they shift nervously between you and the marks in your leg. You offer another smile and reach out, stroking the top of his head, offering words of kindness and support - letting him know you were okay and that it didn't bother you.

One finger traces the outline from one of his suckers - a strange feeling settling in your gut at the thought that this was more than just a mere marking.

***

As time goes on and you interact with Azul more and more, you realize that he was touch-starved to an unhealthy amount.

He enjoys wrapping his tentacles around your legs when you sit on the edge of the pool before him, his head on your lap while you hold your notebook above him and jot notes down about your experiences with the mers. Jade and Floyd often attempt to sneak in for what you've deemed as a "cuddle session" - but Azul often growls at them with a few clicks in their direction before his arms wrap around your waist tighter. The trio do switch things up eventually, with Jade and Floyd both curled protectively around your form as Azul keeps a set of eyes on the glass doors.

Whenever someone attempts to enter the enclosure, all three go into defensive mode - Azul now taking a stance in front - or rather, over - you as the twins shift to lean over the edge of the pool, all three growling frighteningly and baring teeth at the intruders. It was also during the last week you noticed how their touches would linger longer on your skin, Azul - on more than one occasion - wrapping his tentacles around both your ankles, wrists, and your waist multiple times, leaving marks that had many of your coworkers arching brows at you.

"Not that I mind the interactions between the four of you, puppy," Crewel comments when you meet up with him and Trein at the end of the second month, two notebooks resting before you on the desk as Trein goes over them, "but the results we've seen are… kind of startling."

"I've noticed the trio has been a bit more aggravated than usual, as well," you answer.

"How so?"

You press your lips together, trying to think of the best way to describe the events of the previous week.

It wasn't uncommon for the trio to touch you - especially Azul, who seemed to now dominate the spotlight - however, those touches that had shifted from curiosity to protectiveness had now shifted to what you thought was longing. The trio's eyes would watch you intently when you were away from the edge of the pool - either as you were entering, getting their food ready, or preparing to leave - their gaze not once shifting away from your form. As soon as you had taken a seat at the poolside, all three were upon you in the same fashion following the "Splashing Crewel" incident. The twins would pull themselves up to sit behind you, pulling you into their arms while each of them grasped one hand to keep you still, as Azul would launch to lay on top of you with his tentacles curling around your legs and thighs. They would coo and click softly at you, noses running along the column of your neck and into your hair. It would take hours just for them to let you go, even with your soft pleading - only releasing you when you mentioned food. You also notice how the trio enjoy hearing your humming - it may have been the reason why they nuzzle at your neck, wishing to hear your voice bring whatever tune you happened to be humming out of your mouth.

As you explained this, Crewel’s and Trein's expressions turned dark.

"That is… unsettling," Trein answered after a moment.

"Perhaps those puppies should be put in place," Crewel thought aloud, crossing his arms and tapping a finger against his bicep.

"Why are they acting this way is what I'm concerned about," you answered.

"We couldn't be sure," Trein explained, "Personally, we've never had a keeper get this close to them, never mind see them react in this fashion."

"I would venture a guess as to say they might see you as a member of their 'family' or 'school'," Crewel answered, "Given the circumstances of your arrangement, I wouldn't be surprised if the reason they cling to you is primarily due to their worry when you are away from them."

"That’s what I was thinking as well," you nod in agreement.

"And as for the humming," Trein spoke, "Sound travels faster in the water than it does on land. Legends of merfolk often indicate that they are attracted to music - though it's typically the mers that use it to lure in unsuspecting prey."

"Do you think they were interested in my humming because of their love for music?"

"Perhaps," Trein nodded in agreement.

"I also noticed when they are, well, clinging to me, they also seem… warmer than usual?" You ask, trying to think of the proper terms, "I also noticed the water seemed visibly warmer too. Do you think their change in behavior may have something to do with it?"

"We'll have one of our men check it out," Crewel nodded, "If someone messed with the thermostat, we'll know."

You nod and leave the office, the door closing behind you.

"Think she's onto us?" Trein asked 

"Never trust anyone, Trein," Crewel pulled a cigarette out of its case, "even your own coworkers."

"I suppose with all of those hints we've dropped, if she hasn't figured out what our plan is yet she likely never will."

"The only thing we can do now is wait for the right time. Hopefully this will satisfy that crow's interest."

***

Unbeknownst to the world above, the waters of the enclosure shifted as the twin mers lounged about outside a built cave.

"Jaaade! I'm boooored!!" Floyd grumbled, shifting his body to drape over one of several rocks that lined the entrance to their dwelling, "I wanna play with Shrimpy!"

"In time, Floyd," His twin shifted, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the rocky walls, "Azul has to finish up the final piece. Besides, our little pearl isn't around right now to play with."

"This suuucks! Why couldn't we just pull her under when we had the chance?"

"She would never survive if we did that, Floyd. You know humans can't breathe underwater, nor swim like this. We need to bide our time, just a bit longer."

"Luckily we won't have to wait too much longer," Azul appeared in the entrance, his tentacles swaying with motion as he moved to greet his friends and fellow captives.

Both twins perked up, shark-like smiles appearing on their features.

"Did you make it?" Jade asked.

"It's almost complete, I just need scales from both of you," Azul answered.

"Sooo, what does our scales have to do with a mer potion?" Floyd asked.

“It will make our mate more compatible,” Azul answered, “In order for us to successfully, one, produce fry, and two, live with us, she needs to be our equivalent. A human mate isn’t a bad thing, we just need a bit more… well, given that those other two-legged monsters have been observing us for the past two years, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning on using her for something.”

“Hence we need to take precautions to make sure she’s safe and comfortable,” Jade followed through.

“Does that mean we can eat them?” Floyd asked.

“When the time is right, you’ll be able to squeeze those beasts who’ve harmed our mate to your heart’s desires,” Azul grinned, “Personally, I don’t think they would taste good, but if you want to eat them, by all means help yourself.”

Floyd grinned, all teeth and gums as he bounced giddily in the water.

“How long after the scales are added will we need to wait?” Jade asked, turning toward Azul.

“At least one week.”

“What’s the plan for our Shrimpy, then?”

Azul grinned, indicating for the twins to follow him into the lair, explaining things as they moved, “Our home here will only be temporarily. Once they realize their precious little angelfish is one of us, they will try every means to get her away from us to revert the process. When they make their move, we’ll be able to shift our focus to breaking out. I’ll need several things to create a temporary transformation potion that will allow one of us to move about the surface to transfer us back to the Coral Sea. And we’ll need to work fast - once (Y/N) lays those eggs, she’ll need to be protected and guarded at all times. I’d rather not have her lay them here - hence our haste to get her out of here.”

“And then the big family we’ve always dreamed of!”

“Indeed - so, two weeks?”

“Two weeks. When the moment is right, (Y/N) will be ours…”

[mayashesfly]

With the talk of how Sir Pentious felt fitting to the role of being the First Redeemed for the story and how Vox will be the Main Villain in Season 2 plus the leak of Vox hypnotizing everyone in Pride, I hope that Sir Pentious' ability to hypnotize/daze his opponents with his eyes similar to Vox's would be useful in some way to mitigate or even stop this widespread hypnotizing of Vox.

There's already some small amount of history and dynamic between the two that can possibly parallel Vox and Alastor's previous relationship and they may be foils/parallels to each other.

When we see Vox use his hypnotizing powers, he uses it liberally to maintain control even when he's not threatened. However, Sir Pentious on the other hand, never uses his hypnotizing/dazing powers unless threatened to defend himself, and it seems like it's something he opts not to use or only uses instinctively.

Both of them are inventors, or at least we can assume so.

But while Vox creates sleek modern technology, Sir Pentious uses Victorian-like or Steampunk-like technology. We see Sir Pentious actually invent his weapons himself while we never actually see Vox do any work himself.

There's also the theme of companions(?) between the two as well. With Sir Pentious having his cute and goofy little eggboiz stay around him, freely walking around and doing whatever. Meanwhile Vox has his big, sharp and intimidating sharks that are always in a tank and separated from him., unable to leave their tank.

This shift from Pilot, or atleast Voxtagram Vox, having a silly, goofy and energetic shark-dog he keeps around him to Show/Canon Vox only having intimidating sharks as far as we can tell for now feels well... quite telling. And may even be a deliberate choice for the Show to showcase the difference between these two since Sir Pentious was already shown to have his silly little egg boiz in the Pilot meanwhile Vark only existed in Voxtagram.

Even after Vox told Sir Pentious to khs, Sir Pentious still seems to be a bit of a fan of Vox. Reading a book about him or some of his products in the background during one of the episodes. (Episode 5 I think? Correct me if I'm wrong)

Though perhaps that changed during the time the hotel and the cannibals were readying for Extermination day. Or maybe Sir Pentious was just too busy thinking about Cherri bomb.

Sir Pentious being the First Redeemed and Vox being the Main Villain for Season 2 sets up the possibly of resolving a part of their character arcs in a way that ties up the loose end between the two of them.

After all, if you think about it, if Vox didn't choose Sir Pentious to be the one to infiltrate the hotel and later abandon him to their whims, we would have never had our First Redeemed.

Things could've been vastly different.

Though Vox wouldn't have chosen Sir Pentious either if it wasn't for his obvious admiration of the Vees and Vox in particular.

Fingers crossed that Sir Pentious gets a Win to stick it in Vox's face in Season 2 because honestly? He deserves it.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 8

Hello! Thanks to WIP Wednesday I managed to finish a chapter of each of the stories so things are moving right a long with this story and the others. With any luck, I'll have Secret Tunnel (game show AU) finished by the time the weekend is over with. Fingers crossed.

In this Steve goes on a bit of a roller coaster of emotion. Also a bit of naughtiness in the middle, so 18+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~

Steve put together the package he had be planning after he ate his burger. It was no chili burger from Benny’s but it was really good. It had caramelized onions with a thousand island dressing on the bun which was some kind of fancy bread.

Now the fries, that was something to rave about. They were seasoned and deep fried. He had eaten almost all of them before he even touched the burger.

Then once he was done with the package, he went down to the front desk for them to mail it off. Now he was at loose ends again. He could go back up to his room, but he really didn’t want to.

It had only been three days since he got kicked out and he was bored. So he looked around the lobby for inspiration. Then he spotted a discarded newspaper. Probably someone who wanted to read the financial stuff and found their stocks had tanked.

That was what his dad did every day. He didn’t understand it anyway. You were paying for nothing. Even when things were really good, you didn’t want to sell your shares because things might get better. But if the stock drops than you’ve lost money. It was gambling in the worst sort of way.

But he picked it up and began flipping through the pages, looking for the movie listings. When he found them he looked through the ads to see if there was anything good. Which there wasn’t.

With a sigh, Steve put the paper down. He chewed on his nails for a moment or two. Then he snapped his fingers. He’ll call Dustin. See if the kids wanted to go to the arcade. He had money to burn, so why not let the kids go nuts for a couple of hours.

He looked at his watch and then winced. Oops! Maybe that would be better for tomorrow as it was way later than he thought. But he could call Eddie.

That brought an instant smile to face and he dashed back upstairs. He walked into the room just as the phone began ringing. His smile turned into a grin as he walked across the room. He picked up the phone and said, “Hello!”

“You sound happy, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “You have a good day?”

Steve laughed and kicked his feet. “Much better now that I’m talking to you. I sent off your surprise and it should get to you by the time you get to LA.”

“Aww, baby,” Eddie said. “I can’t wait.” He paused for a moment. “I wanted to apologize to you about Chrissy. She was fucking rude to you and I chewed her out for it.”

Steve blinked for a moment. What now? He was used to people being rude and dismissive to him. No one ever apologized for that. “You did?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie said sternly. “I did. She thought that this little arrangement of ours was going to be temporary, but when I told her I had paid for the room for six months, she was very upset. She told me I couldn’t just throw money around like that. That’s when I told her about my little presents for you. Then she really hit the fan.”

“Oh,” he murmured. “I don’t want to cause you trouble with your management, but I–I don’t have anywhere else to go. My dad is still out there trying to make my life difficult.” His bottom lip began to shake.

“But don’t worry a thing, pretty bird,” Eddie cooed. “I got her sorted out and now she understands how important this is for me and somehow my impassioned speech managed to sway my bandmates too. I don’t think they knew how bad things had gotten for you.”

“What–what did you tell them?” Steve asked softly, his voice beginning to break.

“Nothing that they didn’t already know,” Eddie soothed. “I just made it as dire as possible so that they got the message loud and clear.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged in relief. That–that he could handle. Because as much as he wanted to shrug this off and pretend he didn’t need or want help, the truth was that he did need Eddie’s help and if getting that help meant getting all of Corroded Coffin on board and their manager, too then that’s what Steve would have to accept that.

“I really appreciate this,” he murmured. “I knew my dad was going to make trouble. I just didn’t think he’d go this far. To make sure I didn’t have anything but my car and my clothes.”

“I know, little Canary,” Eddie said, “just put your trust in me and I’ll take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay, Eddie,” Steve breathed. “I owe you so much and I don’t know how I can pay you back.”

“You don’t owe me anything, I’m just happy to be able to help you.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes as tears began to well. He was just so overwhelmed from the kindness of a stranger that he was about to start bawling right there on the phone. A hiccuping sob escaped his lips and then it was like the floodgates had opened. He just sobbed and sobbed. No one had ever been this kind to him before.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I wish I could be there to hold you. So this will just have to do.” And then he started singing softly. It was gentle and slow and spoke of having a safe place to land.

Slowly his sobs slackened and he gave a final hiccup. “That was beautiful. Did you write it?”

“Sure did,” Eddie said proudly. “First song I ever wrote in fact. Wrote it the night the court awarded permanent custody of me to my Uncle Wayne. I knew from that moment on that my dad couldn’t come back and hurt me again.”

Steve rolled over onto his belly with a sigh. “That must have felt so good. Having someone you trusted to step up and take care of you.”

“He’s a good man,” Eddie agreed warmly. “And this is me paying that kindness forward to you, little Canary.”

Steve let out a small shuddering breath, letting the knot in his chest loosen. “So tell me about your concert tonight,” he said. “Where were you playing again?”

Eddie made a small huff of laughter. “We were in Texas tonight...”

Steve let Eddie’s warm voice wash over him.

“You feeling sleepy, my little Canary?” Eddie murmured after awhile.

He let out a little sleepy snuffle. “No.”

Eddie chuckled. “If you say so sweetheart.” And he continued to talk until the snuffles became a soft sonorous snore.

“Good night, Stevie.”

~

Steve woke up to the dial tone in his ear again. He moaned as he rolled over on his back and ran his fingers through his hair.

He needed to stop falling asleep to the musician’s voice. It was really becoming a problem. It always made him wake up hard as a fucking rock. He picked up the phone and put back in its cradle. He flopped back on the bed. He lifted the covered to glare at his aching erection.

He palmed his cock in an attempt to get it go to down. But instead it made it worse. He pushed down harder, but his own roughness made him moan. He could feel the outline of cock as it throbbed against his hip.

He hadn’t gone this long without at least rubbing himself off since he was a stupid freshman. He knew he should wait until he was in the shower, but the walk would be so fucking painful. Steve threw off the covers and then shoved the front of his shorts down to free his cock. He then slowly unbuttoned his sleep shirt. Rubbing his nipples and stroking his chest to get himself really riled up.

If he was going to this, he was going to wring out as pleasure out of this as he possibly could. He lifted his hips and slid the shorts off as slow as he could.

He brought his hands back up his legs, his thighs spreading as his palms cupped his cock. It was leaking at the tip and he dragged his thumb over his slit, smearing it across the glans. He moaned again. This time louder. That felt so good. He did it again, going the other direction. Slow and rough.

He imagined Eddie watching him. Directing his every move. How hard he should pull. How rough he should get.

The way he came hard and long was a testament to Eddie’s raw sexual power, and Steve’s vivid imagination. He grabbed a couple of tissues from the tissue box next to the bed and cleaned himself up the best he could.

Then he shucked off the top and waddled into the shower, tossing the tissues on his way.

~

It was a little bit before noon by the time Steve got to call Dustin.

“Steve!” Dustin greeted warmly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“What are you dorks up to today?” he asked bluntly.

“I don’t know,” Dustin whined. “I don’t think we really have any plans. At least not together.”

“Call up the goon squad and find out,” Steve said. “And then call me back.”

Steve could feel the kid’s skepticism through the phoneline as he thought about it. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll call you back.”

Just before he hung up, Dustin bit out. “We call ourselves The Party, Steve. Not the goon squad.”

“You call yourselves the party Steve?” he murmured. “That’s so sweet of you–”

There was a click and a dial tone. Steve grinned at the receiver before putting it down on the cradle. He threw open his wardrobe and started shifting through his new clothes. He was going somewhere with a lot of kids and soda and greasy pizza, so nothing too fancy.

Not finding anything fit the bill, he went through his drawers. He decided on a nice pair of jeans and a dark blue tanktop with a black short sleeved button up over the top. He fixed his hair in the mirror and then pulled on his old sneakers. He didn’t want to get any of his new shoes sticky.

He had run his fingers through his hair one more time when the phone rang.

“Hello!” he greeted.

“Well, hello to you too little Canary,” the warm velvet voice sounded through phone. “You sound happy today.”

Steve’s gut felt like warm chocolate had pooled there. “Hi-ya, Eddie.”

“I was just calling to tell you that I’ll be out of rang cell phone wise and so you won’t be able to call me until I get to Arizona tomorrow.”

“Awww...” Steve huffed. “Way to make me sad.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie purred. “I just wanted to make sure you knew, so that I didn’t think I was avoiding you.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “Thanks for that.”

“Have a good day, okay?” Eddie said.

“I’ll try!” Steve chirped back.

He barely hung up the phone before it rang again, his hand never leaving the receiver. “Hey.”

“Steve!” Dustin cried. “I tried to call you but your line was busy!”

Steve let out a long slow sigh. “Other people do call me, Dusty. Like the guy who’s paying for all this?”

Dustin huffed. “Well if you would just tell me who he is, maybe I would be more forgiving...”

“Ain’t gonna happen, Dusty,” Steve bit out. “I don’t want it getting back to my dad who it is. And before you tell me you’ll never tell. You’ll say something when you think no one is around and someone will hear you. Until my dad gives up his little Crusade, I ain’t tell you shit.”

“Come on, Steve...” Dustin begged.

“I was going to take everyone to the arcade today but if you’re going to keep hounding me about it, maybe I won’t.”

The line went silent.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Dustin murmured. “I just want to make sure he’s a good guy and not taking advantage you.”

Steve let out a breath through his nostrils and closed his eyes tightly. “He isn’t even in Hawkins right now and I don’t know when he’ll be back, okay?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay.”

Then he held the phone away from his ear.

Wait for it.

Wait…for…it.

“You want to take everyone to the arcade?!” Dustin screamed.

“Sure do, bud,” Steve said once it was safe to do so.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Dustin screeched. “When? What time are you come over? Details please!”

Steve worked out all the details and sorted out rides. When they finally hang up, Steve positively beaming.

Eddie was paying forward the kindness his uncle gave to him to Steve. And Steve was paying it forward to his kids. And that left a warm feeling in his chest like nothing else could.

~

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[j2d3]

Mr. Loverman | Mad hatter/ Jefferson x reader | Pt 5

Picture this since before the curse you and Jefferson have been best friends, your character is the chesiare cat but a witch version ( NOT A FURY 💀) . This is staged during season one during the time of the curse, your memory is erased but he still remembers you. ( Also Jefferson doesn’t have a daughter in this!!!)

"Wakey, Wakey girl." I hear a kinda unhinged voice say, my eyes still closed but I can feel that he's right in front of me. As I open my eyes, I see him sitting criss cross on the floor spinning a card between his fingers.

"It's Y/n, ya know." I say, sitting up rubbing my eyes, the place gets a little less blurry after a few seconds. I hear the man mutter a yea yea, as he hops up from the grounds.

Stubbly I get up from the bed, trying my best to get out of tired state. Ok recap, last night I saw the guy playing with his hat or whatever, talked to him and then I got sucked into his portal to wonderland, slept in his house and now I'm here. Quite a weird night for a weekend I suppose, the man walks out the room and I follow him out.

"So when can I get home?" I teleport to his side, watching as his eyes widen in surprise to my magic, and a grin all of a sudden splattered on his face.

"Ah so you're a witch, makes sense, only a witch could follow me in this damned place." He grabs his hat off the rack, placing it on his head.

"Technically I fell in here I didn't follow you, but whatever rocks your boat." A chuckle escapes his lips and I'm not going to lie a smirk came onto my face, there's something quite amusing about a mad man, it's fun to figure them out.

"Well perhaps we shall be on our way, I have to do something first before you can go home, and seeing as you're a witch I could definitely use your assistance."

"And that is? What are we doing before I go home?"

"Steal some cookies from the queen of course, but oh they're not just any cookies, they're magical cookies." A scoff escapes my mouth, before a giggle joins in.

"Mkay." Whatever cookies they are they better be worth it.

Time skip ~

I observe the trimmed bushes standing right in front of me, the wonderland maze, this is going to be a trip or is it?

In an instance I'm levitating off the ground, flying I guess you could call it, observing the maze in the bottom of me, turning completely invisible.

"Jeez thanks for your help Y/n, you're very helpful." Jefferson yells, "Very helpful."

I appear beside Jefferson fully visible once again, a beaming closed smile on my face. I signal him to follow me, his face yells in confusing, his eyebrows raised and his head tilted to the side a bit but he still follows me.

"So how you memorize the whole maze in a couple of seconds, are you some type of special witch or something?"

"A memory spell, for longer lasting memory that I added on myself months ago, works so well." I say boringly, stopping for a second before taking a left.

"Uh huh wel-" before he can continue I cut him off, "Why could you possibly go to wonderland for magical cookies, what's so good about them?"

"Dark one's orders, the cookies make you grow to a giant size, he wants to add it to his collection of magical items." My brows rise, why would the Dark one send Jefferson to get the cookies when he can get himself, nevertheless I shall the not question the Dark one's orders.

"Huh Okay." Once again I stop, this time stopping at a dead end, quickly I fix the situation by taking a right.

"I should warn you, Wonderland is a dangerous place, ruled by a vicious queen. We're risking our lives to get those cookies as we are going against the queen." Jefferson states, this time I stop not because of this time it's not about the maze.

"So you want me to risk my life to get some cookies from the queen so I can get back to the enchanted forest?" A large doubt enters through me like a shock of lighting, but yet I feel like I have to do this. I mean what if they kill him and his blood is on my hands, I know I shouldn't care about the man I met last night but I feel obligated do to this.

"Correct."

"Uh huh, got it."

After 30 minutes or so me and him have finally escaped the long puzzled maze, I sigh of relief and so does he.

"So what's next?" I question Jefferson, my hands placed on my hips waiting for him to answer me, I could tell he's thinking of his next steps, I hope he has a plan.

"Next we blend in, so they don't know our faces. After that we sneak into the queen's castle, specifically the basement where the cookies are." Again I am in confusion with this man, he doesn't seem to be a warlock so how is he gonna blend us in unless he has clothes to make us blend in with the crow, actually he probably does. But I'm still confused how we are going to go smoothly in the castle's basement .

Jefferson pulls out fabrics and clothing out his bag, and quickly he put a scarf around my neck and it covers my head only my face popping out of it, but noticeably. He then "disguises" himself in multiple fabrics around himself, he's definitely getting recognized.

"So how are we getting to the castle's basement, wouldn't we easily get caught just walking in?" I am replied my Jefferson's mad laugh.

"We're not going to walk into the castle's entrance Y/n, I'm mad but not stupid. We're taking the wonderland caves, we'll have someone sneak us in through there to the basement." This time instead of confuses I'm curious, does this mad man have connections through all the realms?

-

"Clock? Clock? Are you there? I'm here, it's tea." Holding the torch in my hands cautiously and carefully, I quick catch on his use of the code names. It's pretty easy to detect a code, they're abnormal and out of the ordinary, sometimes they are used in words to describe a person. I can assume Jefferson's code name is tea because he likes tea, and the person's code name is clock cause they like to read the time?

Soon the caves echoes the door screeching open, quietly but easily, a man stands behind the door. only his head popping out, but he's like a human sized rabbit, that's definitely out of the ordinary but knowing how I have a talking insect in my land I don't seem to mind.

"Quick come in, can't have anyone noticing you" , "and your friend." Jefferson grabs my arm, bringing me quickly inside with him. The rabbit checked his watch shakily, his body anxiously shaking.

"Do you what you must but be quick!" Without warning the rabbit bolted out the room, leaving me and Jefferson in the basement, well what I can assume is the basement.

"Woah it was kinda easy getting in here." I exclaim looking around the room while Jefferson scans the room before searching it.

"Don't savor the moment, the queen of hearts is not to be underestimated. Now quick look for the cookies, if you see a jar of cookies that say eat me with a pink frosting there the ones."

"Okay..." I join Jefferson in searching the room, looking in every corner, trying to look for the small details even the ones that don't seem to matter.

"So who is the Queen of hearts?'

"An evil queen and witch, if we cross her she cuts off our heads even for the smallest misconceptions. Nevertheless why we shall quicken our pace my dear and look for this jar of cookies before our heads fly off our bodies." I nod in response, wondering about this queen of hearts.

A faint sound of footsteps catch my ear, all clattered at once. I look to Jefferson's direction to know if he can hear it, he doesn't at least not yet. I quicken my pace, teleporting while I'm at it.

The stomps get closer at each second, a wave of panic floods through my body yet also amusement, now Jefferson hears it. He panics looking through the the shelves, tables, and even the mess of the pile. I'm constantly teleporting, frantically searching for the jar of cookies.

3 soldiers storm in the room, Jefferson looks at the them with a hidden fear in his eyes, I stand my back to the wall. I'm invisible so they don't know I'm here, the slam of the door shutting makes 2 of the soldiers turn their backs, 1 still keeping an eye on Jefferson.

"What the hell was that?!?" One of them says, I quickly lock the door, before teleporting to the guy looking at Jefferson, knocking him out with one of the things I found while scattering the place.

Jefferson's grin reappears on his face as I make myself visible again, the two soldiers turn around, their eyes frozen for a second.

"Surprised?" In an instance I'm beside the second soldier, amused at the confusing and fear splattered on his face. Jefferson grabs the sword from the 1st soldier that got knocked out, looking at the soldier competitively.

"Ya know I've never seen gear as funny looking as yours in wonderland, your queen has set you up really." Jefferson says, eyeing the soldier in front of him. I on the other hand teleport in different places, scaring and confusing the soldier I'm battling. I've never really felt this joy in my life, I like this even though our lives are at risks right now.

A groan of pain is heard from the other soldier, Jefferson hurt him out, leaving him bleeding on the floor. Now it's us against the 3rd soldier, I knock him out but Jefferson finishes him off.

"Now I suppose we get going, don't you agree Y/nyy?"

"Definitely!" Jefferson throws the hat on the floor, slowly but quickly it opens up. Standing on top or in front of it, Jefferson holds my hand as we prepare to jump. Another stomps of soldiers fill the hallway, luckily the door is locked but that dosen't stop the banging on the door as they try to open it.

As the door swings open, me and Jefferson are already falling through the portal, holding hands tightly laughing.

Soon we fall on dirt and leaves, the hat falling and joining us on the floor too. My eyes meet Jefferson's, a look of amusement on both of our faces. Suddenly I remember something, the jar of cookies. We didn't get it, oh no what is the dark one going to do to Jefferson.

"Jefferson, the cookies!" He madly grins, laughing like I said something dumb. He then grabs something from his bag, a jar, the jar of cookies.

"I got it last minute, turns out it was hidden amongst the books.", "Ya know, You're not so bad for a partner Chesiare ." I sigh of relief, smiling back at him.

"Your not so bad yourself hatter."

As we both get off the ground helping each other up, a feeling waves through my mind. He's fun, I like him I think I wanna see him again after this. We dust the dirt and lint off our clothes, Jefferson lifting up his hat off the floor and placing it on head while I fix my dress.

As we both start to walk away from each other I stop in my tracks, turning back around.

"Jefferson." I call out to him, he then stops and looks my way.

"Can we meet again, maybe another task or something?"

"Yes we can be friends Chesiare if that's what your'e asking." I tilt my head but I accept his words knowing that's what I wanted, why I wanted to see him again. I give him a genuine smile and am received by his, I'm going to love being his friend. I walk away with a pleased feeling in my heart, for once in my life I like one of those guys from the pub.

______________________________________________________________

Authors note

Okay so I know I haven't finished the backstory yet but I didn't want to make this chapter too long, chapter 6 is going to be the last part of the backstory and then we're going back to the present. I promise not to make you guys wait too long :) I appreciate you readers and I'm thankful for all of you, have a good day/night!

[donteattheappleshook]

Not Broken At All Chapter 17/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Thank you thank you thank you @the-darkdragonfly for helping me so much with this chapter I literally wrote at your kitchen table lol.

This one is a bit shorter because I had to move the last scene to the next chapter or it would have been like 10k long…. but hopefully that means chapter 18 is coming soon!

(at least you didn't have to wait a year for chapter 17?)

*******

Part 17

Emma follows Killian’s eyes as they dart towards the ceiling, the deck above their heads. It’s dark out, but not the dark of night, the dark of an oncoming storm, that ominous, looming chill of electricity in the air, the waves lapping against the sides of the ship that rocks unsteadily against the threatening sea. A shiver runs down her spine. Whether Pan’s here or not - he’s fucking furious. 

There’s a knock on the door, Wendy not waiting for permission before pushing it open. “Is he here?” Killian asks, voice low. 

She shakes her head, holding a small, empty vial. “Not yet. But Ianeira sent a warning - he’s on his way and he’s not happy.” She looks out at the first heavy drops that land against the window like bullets. “Obviously.” 

“Get the boys below deck,” he orders, still not raising his voice above the rumble of the storm outside. “Scarlet,” he adds, the younger pirate leaning against the doorframe, “go wake the crew. Tell them to be ready for a fight.” 

“What are you going to do?” Wendy frowns like she already knows the answer. 

“Handle Pan.” 

“Absolutely not.” Emma answers at the same time as Wendy’s “like hell” rings through the air. “This was my idea. I’ll go deal with the consequences,” she insists, but her words are ignored as the two captains continue to argue. Will shoots her a sympathetic shrug from his place in the doorway. 

“We don’t have time to argue,” Killian finally snaps at his second, standing and grabbing Emma’s pants from where she hung them last night before tossing them to her. “Pan and his Lost Boys will be here any minute and we need to make sure the boys are hidden and the crew is ready to defend the Jolly.” 

“Is that an order, Captain?” Wendy asks, arms crossing over her chest and Killian stiffens. Emma didn’t miss the weight put behind the question.

“Cap-” he starts but she cuts him off.

“No. No more of this ‘I’m not the captain’ or two captains bullshit. If you’re going to pull rank and make me follow orders then you don’t get to decide you don’t want to be in charge anymore tomorrow. If this crew is going to put our lives on the line for your plan, and trust you to handle Pan, then you’re going to be the one to make the order. And if you die today -” Her harsh facade breaks just a fraction - “It won’t be because of something I could have stopped.” 

The room is silent as the two stare each other down, the rush and howls of the storm growing louder outside, growing closer as they remain locked in the standoff, Wendy’s ultimatum hanging between them. “Well?” she demands. 

He’s silent for another moment, but then he lets out a sigh. “Bring the boys below deck, make sure they don’t make a sound or Pan will remember that they’re here.” Another hesitation as neither she or Will move and his thumb runs over the ring on his finger. “That’s an order.” 

Wendy’s shoulders both straighten and sag at once as she shifts into her new role, her face blank, betraying nothing, but Emma knows. She can see the hurt and the fear, of his betrayal and of the danger he’s putting himself in as she nods. “Aye, Captain.” 

Killian flinches away from the title just the barest amount before she heads out of the room. 

“What are you gonna tell him?” Will glares at his usurping captain. 

Killian sighs. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.” He reaches for his shirt, pulling it on over his head and turning to find the man still there. “Go wake the crew,” he orders again and Will stares at him for a long moment before doing as he’s told. 

Emma watches him as he dresses, yanking her own pants on and rising from the bed, the buttons of his vest fastened methodically, one by one with practiced fingers before he dons his greatcoat. She realizes what she’s watching as he slides his sword into its sheath, secures it to his hip: a soldier dressing for battle, each piece of his armour clad carefully down to the expression he smooths over his face, the one that hides the man who’d let her in his bed and held her against the threat of the night behind a cold, heartless facade.

“Killian,” she starts, ready to fight him on this. Rescuing the boys was her decision. She’d made them do it. This should be her responsibility. Nobody else's lives should be on the line for her choices. A boom of thunder cuts her off before a flash of lightning brightens the room.

“He’s here,” Wendy tells them, stepping back into the room. Killian doesn’t confirm if his orders have been followed - he doesn’t need to. 

“Let me go,” Emma insists. “I can tell him it was my idea. I can -” 

“No.” They answer in unison and before she can protest a boom of thunder echoes above them and an angry, lilting voice calls out above them. 

“Thieves! Show yourselves!” The demand is followed by a roar of approval, small, young voices calling out in a battle cry she’s heard before. The room goes silent, tension in every line of her body and Killian’s. Wendy looks to her captain, waiting for orders, hands fisted like she’s trying not to barge up there herself. 

Emma sees the barest flash of fear in his gaze before he schools it and turns to her, leveling her with a hard, commanding look. 

“Go to the hold with the children. Promise me you’ll stay down there - that you won’t make a sound.” Emma glares at him, his face only inches away as he speaks so quietly she can barely hear him. He glares back just as defiantly. “Promise me, Swan.” She doesn’t answer. She’s not promising that. Not when it’s her fault Pan’s here and he could hurt them. “They need you. They trust you and they need to stay hidden. If Pan’s reminded they’re here… he might demand their lives in place of the dead we took.” 

Her glare deepens. “I know what you’re doing.” 

The corner of his mouth turns up just a fraction before he straightens it. “Then you should have no problem following through with it.” When her shoulders straighten his hand comes to her cheek. “We can’t risk Pan finding out about you - not while we don’t have a way of defeating him or saving Henry. You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead,” he adds, using her words against her now and her eyes narrow. “You can’t protect Henry if you’re dead.” That one hits hard and Emma knows he’s right - but she still doesn’t like it. She doesn’t want him dead either. 

Pan’s warning rings out again, harsher this time - ‘Come out and face me, coward!’ - and Killian’s shoulders tense. “Fine,” she concedes. “But if things go bad -”

“You’ll stay right here.” It’s a warning, and she almost wants to call him on it, to see what he really thinks he can do to her that’s worse than the situation they’re already in, but she bites her tongue. He takes her silence as the end of the discussion. “Darling,” he calls over his shoulder. “Bring her to the hold and then join me on deck - Darling,” he tries again when she doesn’t respond, but Wendy’s attention is focused outside the cabin, staring out down the hall, a frown starting to pull at her brow and Killian’s matches it. “Wendy?”

“Where’s Will?” 

“What?” 

“Will.” Her voice is low, far away but rising with tightly restrained panic. “He should be back by now. Where’s the crew?” 

As if on cue, a voice rings out loudly above them. “Pan! Two visits in as many days? To what do we owe the honour?” They rush to the stairs, crouched low looking out at where Will stands, alone, facing off against Pan. Fuck. Please don’t be an idiot. She can feel Wendy tense beside her and Killian reaches, grabbing his first mate’s arm. 

“Don’t,” he warns and Emma’s surprised to see her try to yank her arm free. But he holds firm. 

“Scarlet.” Pan sounds annoyed but intrigued nevertheless. “It’s been a long time.” He cocks his head, a small smirk on his childlike face. “You got old.”  

 “Go get the crew,” Killian orders, staring her down and not releasing her until the fight fades slightly from her eyes. He knows how much this must be killing her. “If there’s going to be a fight, we won’t be able to stop him alone. Bring them with you and meet me on deck.” 

Will baulks. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’ve the complexion of a man less than half my age.” He brushes a hand over his scruffless cheek as if to prove it.

There’s still resistance in Wendy’s stance but she nods, dashing off towards the crew’s quarters. Killian turns to her. “Stay here. Don’t let the children leave the hull.” She can only nod, still watching as her new friend continues to bait Pan. “Bloody idiot,” Killian mutters under his breath.

Emma grabs his arm, halting him. She waits until his questioning gaze turns to her. “Be careful. Please.”

He watches her for a moment, eyes darting up to the deck, and then takes her hand, presses a kiss to the back of it and nods the voices above growing louder. He spares her one last glance before dashing up the stairs.

“Hook,” Pan says as soon as he reaches the bow of the ship. “There you are. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” 

“Apologies,” Killian offers with a small bow and a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Where are my shadows?” 

“Your shadows? We don’t have any shadows here.” 

“Don’t lie,” Pan snaps and Emma flinches. “You stole eleven lost boys from me. Those were my lives - I won them fair and square. Give them back.” Emma half expects him to stomp his foot, but it’s then that she realizes that he can’t - because he’s not on the deck. He’s flying, or hovering a few feet above it. Wendy had said that Neverland’s magic couldn’t touch the Jolly - does that mean Pan can’t either? Can he not set foot onboard?

“They’re at the bottom of the sea, I’m afraid,” Killian tells him with a wince and she can see the rage building in the small boy.  

“Then I’ll take them from your crew. Eleven of them in exchange for the ones that you took.” Emma casts a glance back down the hall towards the hold where a dozen children hide. 

“No need for that,” Killian begins. “They aren’t to blame for this little misunderstanding. I’m sure we can find a solution where you get what you want that’s fair.” Pan hesitates at the word fair. He loves his games - he loves his rules. 

“Then who is to blame?” he demands. “Bring the thief forward so that he can be punished.”

“Unfortunately we-”

“I did it.” 

“Scarlet,” Wendy hisses in warning, but he’s already taking another step towards Pan. 

“It was my idea.” 

Pan glares. “Why?” 

There’s a pause and then Will smirks. “I just wanted to piss you off. For old time’s sake.” 

The boy’s anger shifts into something cruel and amused. “Well then, you can pay the price for old times sake. You remember how much fun my punishments can be,” he adds. She sees Will’s back go stiff right before Pan’s hand plunges deep into his chest and Emma has to cover her mouth with her hands to catch the scream that tries to escape. The crew stills, petrified. This isn’t the first time they’ve seen this happen.

“Wait!” Wendy shouts as Will lets out a groan of pain. Killian grabs her arm, silencing her and holding her in place. Pan ignores her, pulling his hand free, something bright and red and glowing held in his palm. That can’t be what she thinks it is. 

“Eleven lives,” he muses again, floating easily across the deck, thinking. He gives the thing a small squeeze and Will cries out falling to his knees. Pan smirks, he’s enjoying this, she can tell; he already knows what he wants to do and Emma’s nails dig into her palms, every bone in her body demanding she go up there and not let this happen. It should be her that pays the price. Not Will. 

His fingers tighten around it again and Will stops breathing, hand clutched to his chest where his heart should be until finally, Pan loosens his grip, looking at Will with his head cocked again. “You really did get old, Scarlet. But maybe not old enough…” He looks him over carefully, then the mass in his hand. “Eleven Lost Boy’s lives… so many years - But I think we can make it an even hundred. For old times sake?” he smirks. “That sounds fair,” he decides. “You can pay me back a hundred years.” 

When he squeezes the heart again, Will collapses onto the deck, bits of dust slipping from Pan’s fingers as the light flickers in and out and Emma can see Killian physically holding Wendy back now, knuckles white around the leather of her coat. Nobody breathes. The crew look like it’s taking everything they have not to run - either to Will or away from Pan. Instead they stand frozen. 

She counts the seconds as they go by. One. Two. Three. Four. Five… Will rasps out a strangled cry, fists balling against the wood planks of the deck. Six. Seven. Eight… She watches him grit his teeth, sweat beading along the back of his neck, fighting. Nine. Ten. Eleven…

When she reaches eleven, Will takes his first breath in what feels like hours, the light in Pan’s loosened grip smaller and dimmer but still glowing, still beating. 

“That should do it,” he smiles, returning Will’s heart to his chest.

Will gasps, settling his hand over it as if to feel the beat under it - make sure it’s really there. Then he frowns up at the boy. “Is… is that it?” 

“Scarlet.” It’s Killian who snaps this time. “Below deck. Now.” Emma can’t see the look Wendy gives him when Will defers to her, but it sends him to his feet and across the deck in a second, head bent low. 

“Emma,” he greets with all his usual bravado despite the raspiness of his breath when he finds her on the stairs. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

She punches him in the arm. Hard.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Ow!” 

“That was so stupid! What the hell were you thinking?” 

Will shrugs. “I owed him one. And I’m not going to let Killian get one up on the galant gestures.” 

“Hook.” Pan says, drawing her attention away before she can hit Will again. “If your crew isn’t going to play fair then they won’t get to play with us anymore”

“I’ll get them in line,” he promises and she can hear the edge in his voice. 

“Good. Do you need a reminder of the rules? You were away for a long time…”

“I remember.” 

Pan nods, happy now - a child getting his way. “Good. Then the game can continue.” He turns, hovering over the railing of the ship and casting them one last glance as the threat of a storm begins to clear. “But no more chances,” he warns. Both Killian and Wendy nod solemnly before he flies off towards the beach. 

As soon as he’s gone, Wendy practically runs towards the cabin. “All of you,” Killian commands, drawing the crew’s attention away from their former captain. “Back to work. Now,” he snaps when they don’t obey immediately. They scatter, finding work to keep them busy. 

Emma has to jump out of the way as the other woman barrels down the stairs, grabbing Will by the shoulders. She turns him one way and then another, hands coming to his face as she does the same to his head, checking for injuries. Finally, her hand settles on his chest and Emma can tell she’s counting heartbeats. Will lets her, not resisting as she checks him for any sign of permanent damage. 

When she seems satisfied, she raises furious eyes to his, the hand at his chest fisting in his shirt and shoving him away from her. “Fuck you, Scarlet,” she bites out before storming off down the hall. 

Killian takes over, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Will is less willing to let himself be manhandled by him though, shoving at his arm even as he holds firm. “Do you not know how to follow an order, mate?” 

“I’m not your mate,” he snaps back, more annoyed than angry. “And you’re not my Captain.” 

“And here I thought we were getting along,” Killian answers sarcastically. “And you don’t have to like it, but I am your Captain and if you do that to her again -”

“Like you did when you took off to find Henry?” 

“That was different. I did it to spare her the pain of losing someone she cares for.” 

“So did I. Do you really think Pan would have been so forgiving if you’d taken the blame? You’ve been gone a long time, Hook. You’re not his favourite playmate anymore.” 

“And you are?”

“I’m still alive aren’t I?” 

Killian scoffs. “You’ve lasted a decade. Speak to me when you survive a century.” 

“Well if we keep her alive we won’t have to,” Will snarks, nodding at Emma. 

“Me?”

“I wouldn’t have stuck my neck out for you if I didn’t think you were actually going to change things.” Emma doesn’t have an answer to that, the weight of his faith in her more than she can handle right now. “Don’t make me regret it, aye?” he winces, rubbing at his chest.

“What did he do to you?”

He gives a small shrug. “Crushed my heart. Wasn’t so bad, really - I’ve had worse.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a particular favourite of his,” Killian explains. 

“I’ve seen him do it to disobedient Lost Boys for hours - days once. He’s done it longer to me when I was his second. I’m surprised it was only…”

“Eleven seconds,” Emma supplies. The longest eleven seconds she can remember.

“Aye - I thought he’d be angrier.” 

“What did he mean by you paying him back a hundred years?” 

Will shrugs again. “Pan loves his riddles. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I need to go find Wendy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Killian warns and it almost sounds like a threat. 

Will scoffs, finally shoving his hand away. “Please. I’ve done stupider things than egg Pan on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Killian rolls his eyes and Will glares at him before smirking.

“I’ve become very good at getting her to forgive me.” 

Emma wonders for a moment if she’s going to have to prevent a murder. “Get out of here before I get Pan to come back and crush your heart for good.” 

“What? I thought we were mates -”

“Go,” Emma tells him. Before Killian follows through on that promise. Thankfully, Will isn’t stupid enough to push him any further and does as he’s told. She puts a hand on Killian’s arm. “Just remember that he almost died today. Cut him a bit of slack.” He doesn’t seem convinced, continuing to glare after the younger man. “And he might have saved our lives. He definitely saved mine.” 

Killian scoffs, finally looking at her. “And he’ll never let us forget it.”

“So what’s next?” she asks, trying to distract him from his sort of daughter and her sort of boyfriend’s sort of love life. 

“Hmm?”

“We’ve got the lorelei, we’ve got Tinkerbell, we’ve got a ship full of Lost Boys and pirates, we kept him from getting any more shadows… what do we do now?”

“We figure out what Pan’s plan is.”

“Can we not just… kill him?” she knows they can’t - probably - but she’s pretty sure the idea hasn’t been thrown out there yet so it’s worth a shot. 

Killian shakes his head like she expected him to. “If we could, I’d have done it by now. I did once, when I first returned to Neverland after decades away. I ran him through with my sword trying to avenge my brother.” Her hand on his arm tightens without her meaning it to. “He pretended, made a whole show and lay there until I was sure he was dead - and then he started to laugh. Just another game - the first one I played with him even if I didn’t know it. He told me it was the only time he would let me win.”

“We’ll find a way.” 

He smiles at her, small and half-hearted but she believes him. “I’m sure you will.”

***

“Why do we have to do this?” one of the boys - Kyle, she thinks - complains, dropping the wooden sword to his side. It had been so strange and jarring to learn some of the Lost Boys names over the last few days. “ We have nothing to do but wait ,” Killian had said. “Tink has let the Constant know that we’re ready to meet with them and they’ll send word when they’ve decided if they’ll hear us out .” For some reason, the boys had all been like Wendy in her mind, born ‘ somewhere around the 1880s, I think, ’ or Will, who’d come to Neverland during the Blitz, using dreams to escape the nightmares of real life. But this new group of boys weren’t characters out of a book or an old black and white photo. 

“My mom named me after the guy in some robot movie that had just come out,” Kyle mentioned and it was a moment before it clicked. “The Terminator?!” He’d only shrugged. “That might’ve been it.” This boy was her age. He couldn’t have been born more than a couple of years after she was. Another boy’s tattered shirt had a faded image of Lilo and Stitch on it - he didn’t look more than twelve. These boys were just… kids. Regular kids like the ones she grew up with and the ones who lived in Storybrooke or Boston - boys like Henry. And now they were soldiers. 

“We have to do this,” Wendy answers, giving his fake sword a tap with her own so his arm straightens, “because everyone on this ship needs to be ready to defend her when the next raid happens - If you want to live until the next one.” 

“But we already know how to fight,” he whines. “We defeated you every time.” If Wendy’s upset at the casual mention of her crewmates being slaughtered, she doesn’t let it show. “I already know how to sword fight.” 

“Do you now?” Killian calls from the helm before she can answer. 

“Captain…” his first mate starts but he ignores her. He’s an imposing figure, clad in black leather with the metal of his hook gleaming in the sun and the weight of his sword heavy at his hip. As his footsteps echo across the deck as he makes his way over to where the boys had begun their training they all go silent. 

“Now now, Mr. Darling, if the boy thinks he’s beyond our instruction he should have the chance to prove himself.” He stops in front of the new recruit, drawing his sword in a slow, measured movement, the tip an inch from the kid’s nose and Emma panics for just a second that he might cut him down right there. But then he turns to Wendy, “Bosun, get this boy a real blade,” and she realizes he’s had exactly the effect he intended as everyone around him tenses. 

Wendy goes to fetch a weapon, shooting him the kind of eyeroll kids learn to make in front of adults without getting caught - one she knows very well.

“Think you can defeat me, boy?”

To his credit, Kyle straightens his shoulders, taking the offered sword and raising it to the Captain’s, ready for a fight. She thinks she might see the tiniest bit of approval beneath the scorn in Killian’s expression. The boy moves first, swinging at him with all his might as he deflects again and again. Killian’s toying with him - she knows he is. She saw Killian fight Will that first night on the Jolly. His blocks are too slow, letting the kid get within inches of hitting him. He doesn’t make a single attack, his feet unmoving and she’d think it was cruel if she didn’t understand why he was doing it. 

Finally, when the boy starts to sweat, she sees Killian shift, adjusting his stance as he swings at his opponent. The block comes almost too late, only stopped by the way Killian pulls back at the last moment. He does it again, and again, backing the boy across the deck with blow after blow. There’s no flourish to it, no showmanship, just skill and finesse and strength and speed.

The kid starts to panic, the attacks coming too fast and Emma holds back a gasp when Killian’s blade slices across Kyle’s forearm. After that, it’s easy for Killian to twist his blade out of the kid’s shocked hand with his own, his elbow coming up to knock the boy flat on his ass. By the time he looks up, nose bloody, eyes dazed and watery, Killian’s sword is pointed at his chest, his brow arched in a harsh challenge. 

“Please don’t kill me,” the boy says so quietly and so heartbreakingly that she thinks she sees Killian’s face soften just the barest amount before he takes a step back, dropping his sword. 

“Listen, all of you,” he booms, though every eye on the deck is already on him. “You’ve never defeated anyone. Until now you’ve been playing a game and the game has been rigged. And I’m sorry to say, you’re now on the losing team. The only thing that matters from this moment on is staying alive. And the only way to stay alive is being a skilled enough fighter - and knowing how to hold that skill back enough - that Pan will want to fight you again.”

 He lets this hang in the air for a moment, the boys’ faces showing different degrees of confusion and understanding and horror. “So all of you will follow Mr. Darling’s instructions and learn everything you can from him. You’ll fight to defend this ship, yourselves, and each other when the time comes because you’re part of my crew now.” He reaches a hook out to Kyle who sits cradling his nose and heaves the boy to his feet. “And we look after our own.” 

Killian looks at the boy who nods, message received loud and clear, before clapping him on the shoulder. “Scarlet, see that our newest crew member’s wounds are tended to. He put up quite the fight.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Will complies without argument or sarcasm and Killian must be as shocked as she is because he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Darling must have said something to him,” he tells her when Emma joins him, his sword sliding carefully back into its sheath as he watches Wendy continue her lesson. 

“Or maybe you just did.” Killian only looks at her, brow raised in disbelief before she gestures at the sword hanging at his belt. “So, come on, are you going to show me how to use this thing or not?”

His face splits into a shit-eating grin. “Ah, Swan, I’ve dreamed of the day that you’d ask me to show you how to handle my sword.”

***

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Tinkerbell asks. She’d floated onto the ship that night, looking stronger than when Emma had last seen her - the few days with the Constant clearly having done her good. Her wings looked taller, fully unfurled, the crepe paper like skin no longer breakable and frail as they flutter behind her. 

“Is there good news?” Killian sighs, standing from his desk where he’d been looking over maps of the island while Emma asked him questions about them, how each was different based on when it was drawn, what Pan had changed, who he had brought. He seemed unbothered by the fairy magicking his window open and letting herself in. 

“They’ve agreed to meet with you. They haven’t agreed to help,” she clarifies when Killian looks surprised, “but they’ve agreed to hear you out.”

“And the bad news?” 

“They’ll only meet us in Echo Caves.”

Killian lets out a heavy, long suffering sigh, thumb brushing the inner corner of his brow, words dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful. Did they happen to give a reason why?” 

“Something about making sure you can be trusted - some incident at skull rock?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Really because the way I heard it -” 

“It’s fine. Tell them we agree to their terms. When do they expect us?”

“First light.” 

Killian nods. “We’ll be there. And Tink,” he adds when she turns to leave. “Thank you.” 

She sneers. “I’m not doing it for you.” And then she’s gone before he can say another word. 

“What’s Echo Caves?” Emma pulls her knees up to her chest where she’s perched on the desk after she’s sure the fairy’s out of earshot and Killian’s sagged back in his seat. 

“Another one of Neverland’s little delights,” he sighs again. “The magic of the cave compels you to share your deepest secret - whether or not you’re even aware of it.” 

“Have you gone before?” she asks. 

“Once.” His hand drifts up without her really noticing, fingers curling around her calf, thumb tracing over her shin and she thinks maybe it wasn’t a pleasant experience. “Pan wanted to test my loyalty.” She rests her chin on her knee, dreading what he may have had to confess to Pan to keep himself alive on this horrible island. He smiles up at her then, a put-on apathy. “Thankfully, I had many terrible deeds in my past to confess to.” He doesn’t give her a chance to say anything before he releases her and stands again - something dropped between them and something else put up. 

“Are you afraid?” 

Killian doesn’t look at her. “Always.” Her heart tightens. She understands - she’d only been here a few weeks and she’s been terrified every moment - apart from her brief experiment with fairy wine - centuries… she can’t imagine. “But not of the Constant. Tiger Lily may hold a grudge but they’ll do whatever’s best for this island, and so will their people. And I’ve no ill-intent towards them or love for Pan.” He looks at her then, pausing. “Are you?”

“Of having to spill my deepest secret to a bunch of strangers? No, why would I possibly be stressed about that?” she smirks half-heartedly. 

“Strangers?” Killian raises a brow, sliding back across the room and resting his hand and hook on the desk on either side of her. “You hurt me, Swan. I thought we were friends - acquaintances at least.” 

She shoves at his chest rolling her eyes and he smirks. “Usually a guy has to buy me dinner before he gets to hear the all sordid details of my past.” Or coffee in an empty theme park where a pretty smile and a well-placed sneak into his past makes her think she’s safe to reveal herself, to trust someone with all of it.

“Hey,” his thumb brushes over her knee as he tries to catch her gaze. “Where’d you go?”

Not anywhere he needs to know about - or anywhere she’d care to revisit. So she smiles at him, lets her foot brush against the side of his calf, teasing, distracting. “Just trying to figure out which of my deepest secrets are gonna come spilling out of me tomorrow.” He doesn’t believe her, his lie detector almost as good as her own, she's realized, but he doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Well you are a mystery, Swan,” he tells her with a half-hearted smirk. 

“Not for much longer, apparently.” 

Something shifts in the way he’s looking at her, sympathy or understanding as he cocks his head. “You know you don’t have to come if -” 

“I’m going.” 

Killian huffs a laugh. “Of course you are. Well if there’s anything you want to get off your chest without an audience, now’s the time.” His eyebrow quirks up in challenge. “Won’t be a secret anymore if you tell me.” She meets it. 

“What? Is one revelation about me not enough for you?”

Something shifts again, something heavier, her skin warm and humming with fear and anticipation as he looks at her the way he had when he’d been curled around her on the floor of the brig. His voice is lower when he speaks. “Perhaps I’d just like to know you, Swan.” 

She casts her eyes to the floor, his gaze too intense - always too intense - before setting the smirk that had fallen from her lips back in place. “You first.” 

“I’m an open book, love. Ask me anything you like.”

She has one question, one that’s been itching at the back of her mind since she’d seen the canvas of scars etched across his skin. “Who were you? Before you were here - before you were ‘Captain Hook’?”

His bravado falters for a moment. “I was many things. Son, brother, slave, sailor, lieutenant, captain, pirate, partner… None for very long.” He gives her another of those showy smirks. “It seems Hook is the only one that stuck.” Her heart breaks a little, so many loves lost and so many injustices done in such a short life. She thinks of the scars that had criss-crossed his back, that she’d asked about so casually then - slave he’d said - and she wishes she could do it over, pay both them and him the reverence they deserve. “What about you?” 

“What about me?”

His hand slides to her wrist, to the laces she’d tied there the first day she’d come back to the sheriff’s office alone. All of his things had been gone. Desk cleared out, jacket taken from the back of his chair, the few things he bothered to keep - a tacky ceramic wolf, a photo of him and some friends she never bothered to ask him about, even the bottle of whiskey he kept in his top drawer - had been ransacked. He had no family that she knew of - no family that could be found at all - and she’d just known that it was Regina. She’d come in and wiped every trace of Graham clean like he never existed - apart from a single pair of boots forgotten by the back door. 

“They belonged to someone I used to know.” 

“Someone you cared for?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she shrugs. “He’s gone now.” 

“It mattered enough for you to keep a piece of him with you.” He fingers the laces again, focusing on them, not making her meet his eyes again. “I know what it is to lose the people that matter most.” 

Emma pulls her hand back, sliding them both behind her under the guise of leaning back on the desk and gives another dismissive shrug even as she can’t make herself look at him. “Yeah, well, when you grow up like I did you learn pretty quickly not to get attached.”

Thankfully, Killian knows how to take a hint, straightening and flashing her an off  grin. “If only we all possessed such a skill, Swan.” Then, pushing away from the desk,  “I best let the others know what awaits us all  tomorrow.” 

Emma swallows, this island has already taken so much from her - her son, her name, her memories - almost - her whole belief system… How much more can it really take? She doesn’t ask - not anymore as she slides into Killian’s bed instead of her own, and he doesn’t say anything as he joins her a few minutes later, just pulls her against him, breath warm and comforting against her cheek as they try to shut themselves off from the cries that ring out on the deck above them. 

*******

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