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ladykailitha · 3 months ago

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Around the World Part 7

I know I said that Nanny would be out this week, but I just finished this and am really wanting to get it out as soon as possible and that includes the epilogue.

But if I time it right, this series and Hellfire will end the same week and I'll be able to return to some kind of normal schedule instead of pumping these out on a fucking grinder.

That said, I probably won't do a Christmas story with the way things are right now. But we'll see the closer we get to the holiday.

In this we get the proper Jack the Ripper tour and the author has opinions, okay! Steve draws attention to himself at the Paris Opera house. Murray is a bit too knowing. And of course as @val-from-lawrence guessed, visited the Catacombs!

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

They had done the Tower of London and St. Paul’s Cathedral during the day and got ready for the Bauman Experience as Murray called it. They all had a flashlight and went to go meet him where they had the night before.

They caught him dealing with some obnoxious tourists.

“Oh thank god!” the Karen cried. “An American. Could you please explain to this woman that we only have dollars to pay with. She has to take it!”

Murray blinked at her for a moment. “Well that is quite the cock up, you absolute muppet. Are you dead from the neck up? British pound sterling is the brass here, you silly cow!”

The woman’s head reared back in shock, clutching her chest. “I beg your pardon!”

“To make it perfectly clear,” Murray said leaning forward into her space. “You fucked up, you moron. Are you really that stupid? Dollars aren’t the currency here, the British pound is. Just like you can’t use the pound anywhere but here, you can’t use the dollar anywhere but America so why don’t you go to an ATM or bank and get it exchanged. Or and here’s the really neat part about living in the age of technology, use or credit or debit card and your bank does the conversion for you.”

When she started sputtering angrily, Murray waved her off. “Now, shoo! I’ve got actual paying customers waiting for me.”

Murray turned to the four of them with a smiled. “Well, hello! Welcome. Now that things are dark and therefore sufficiently spooky, let’s take you on a proper tour of Jack’s slaying grounds.”

He went through the different murders until he got to the double murders of Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes.

“Now,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Miss Stride is usually considered his third victim and that he was interrupted, moving on to Miss Eddowes. But I think Stride was a copycat. The person only knew the bodies were mutilated, but not how. So for me, I don’t count her in the confirmed kills.”

Robin nodded sagely. “I don’t either. There was far too little evidence to prove he had been frightened off, because otherwise Eddowes would have been more brutal than it was. He would have been angry he couldn’t finish with Stride. You would have expected her to look like what Mary Kelly’s body looked like, not cool and calm.”

Murray smiled up at her. He turned to Eddie. “I really like her. She’s clever.”

Robin blushed and ducked her head.

A short time later, just as they were wrapping up the Kelly murder, Murray stopped. He looked at a pair of older teenagers and then back at the group.

Chrissy picked up on it first. “You thinking what, I’m thinking, Mur?”

Murray turned to her and cocked his head to the side, considering. He nodded and Chrissy pursed her lips.

Steve caught on just as quick. “Eds, baby. I think those boys may have guessed who you are, love.”

Robin and Eddie shared a concerned glance.

“Fuck,” Eddie huffed. “I liked this jacket.”

Robin grabbed it from him and gave him her jacket. “Mine doesn’t look as fancy,” she explained pulling his jacket on. “Just like Boston, peeps!”

Murray tilted his head to the side and did a quick Google search. “Or... if you’d like, my car is literally around the corner.”

The four of them stopped swapping clothes and looked up at him.

“That’s easier,” Steve said. “Who’s all for easier?”

The other three raised their hands and they followed Murray to his car. Robin sat up front while Steve and Chrissy covered Eddie between them.

“Drop me off at the hotel,” Steve said, tapping on Murray’s shoulder. “I’ll check us out and then meet you at Shakespeare’s Head.”

Murray looked behind him and grinned. “Smart thinking.”

Eddie had changed into a trucker hat and a puffy hunting vest over sturdy blue jeans and thick work boots.

“Kids and their cameras these day,” Murray huffed, sliding a pint of beer over at Steve as he sat down between Robin and Chrissy. “So what’s the story with loverboy here?” he asked Eddie, cocking his head to indicate Steve.

“He’s not out,” Eddie said dryly. “His parents are complete assholes who could and would make things very difficult for him if he was.”

“Nothing says asshole parents,” Murray said with a nod, “quite like those that have the money to make you miserable.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve got that right. But I’m more than equipped to make it work.” He half shrugged. “I’ve been doing it for almost a year.”

Murray’s went wide and he gave an opened mouthed smile. “Have you really? I would have never guessed. Good job! ”

“How did you spot the kids, by the way?” Robin asked around her fruity cocktail.

“Oh,” Murray said, ducking his head a bit. “You’re walking around a small group of people at night in a bad area of London. Whitechapel isn’t as bad as it was in Jackie’s time, but it’s still not a good neighborhood. You have to keep an eye out for people, but especially older teens wishing to knock you over for a bit of loose change.”

Steve cleared his throat and ducked his head. “I am about to ask the most bougie question imaginable. And you can tell me to go to hell if I’m out of line here.”

Murray’s eyebrows went up and he leaned back in his chair. “Wha’cha got, kid?”

Steve licked his lower lip as he tried to word this in a way that wasn’t instantly offensive. “How entrenched are you in this job?”

“Not very,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m just moving through the world enjoying myself and taking jobs that would be fun. I’ve got more than enough money. Why?”

“We were talking in our group chat,” Chrissy explained taking over from a very embarrassed Steve, “and we thought we’d offer you a job as main look out and part time driver for when we’re in Europe. You really saved Eddie today and we could really use someone like you with us.”

Murray glared at her. “You sure I wouldn’t cramp your little foursome you’ve got going on here’s style?” He made a little circling motion with his hand to indicate all of them.

Robin shook her head. “It’ll make it harder for people to recognize a quartet if it suddenly became a quintet. Plus, we’d pay for your room and board. None of us are skint, believe you me.”

“We’ll be staying in haunted hotels, motels, and bed and breakfasts,” Eddie added. “But we won’t force you to join us. We can put you up in a nice place nearby and we join back up whenever we go out.”

Murray eyed them suspiciously until Steve slid over an envelope. He picked it up and pulled out a check. His eyes went wide. “That’s quite the pretty penny.”

“That’s half,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms and throwing herself against the back of the chair. “You’ll get the other half once we leave Europe for Asia.”

“All that for a month’s worth of driving you four around and making sure fans and paparazzi don’t find Eddie here?” Murray asked. “Have you gone crazy?”

Eddie shook his head. “We just want a romantic tour of the spooky places of Europe. I hate the thought Steve getting caught up in something just because I’m recognized everywhere I go and he isn’t.”

Murray licked his lips slowly as his eyes narrowed. “That’s not how that’s usually said.”

Steve frowned and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean? How is what said?”

Robin put her hand on his elbow as he bristled slightly at his tone.

“Usually people will say ‘famous and they’re not’,” Murray said thoughtfully, “he said ‘recognized’. Meaning Stevie here is famous too, but not in a way people would recognize him on the street. What is a famous painter or some shit?”

She cocked her to the side and said dryly, “If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.”

Murray laughed. Just full on cackled. “Have I mentioned how much I like her? Because I really like her.”

Eddie leaned forward to put his elbows on the table. “So what do you say, Murray?” he asked tilting his head to the side. “You want to work for me again?”

Murray slipped the check into his coat pocket and stuck out his hand. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Their first stop on the Continent was Paris and the catacombs. Eddie was still trying to figure out how Robin did that one. It had been closed to the public for years.

Robin just smirked and said, “Well we aren’t the public.”

Steve was also sure they didn’t open it up to anyone who opened their wallet, either, but wisely stayed silent. Plus he was having fun watching Chrissy and Robin run circles around Murray in terms of sheer knowledge.

“Um...Stevie?” Eddie murmured so the trio couldn’t hear him. “Can I hold your hand? It’s getting a little creepy in here.”

Steve held out his hand, the one that had the little guitar on the inner wrist. Eddie looked down at the offered hand with a fond smile. He took the offered hand and their tattoos matched up. Eddie felt braver with every step knowing that Steve would always be there to hold his hand through the darkness.

Chrissy looked back at them and grinned at their clasped hands. She sped up her walk just a little, forcing Murray and Robin to speed up to match her pace, leaving the two love birds the privacy they so richly deserved.

Once they were out in the sunlight and among the city once again, Eddie refused to let go of Steve’s hand.

Steve looked at their joined hands and then back at Eddie. Eddie gave him his brightest smile and Steve was smitten. Even more so than before. He just loved him so much.

They toured the Paris Opera house and Eddie pulled out a cape and mask.

“Sing for me my angel of music!” he said to Chrissy.

She burst out laughing. “My name may be Christine, but I really don’t think they’d want me shattering the glass.”

Eddie turned to Robin who waved her arms in front of her. “No way! I sing like a frog in heat!”

“No.” Was all Murray said.

Steve raised an eyebrow and Eddie grinned.

“Sing!” Eddie crowed.

Steve took a deep breath and belted out that high note, held it perfectly and then took a bow.

Murray blinked and slow smile spread over his features. “You’re in one of those bands with the masks aren’t you? Like Sleep Token or The Fallen, huh? That’s Eddie here said recognized and not famous. Good on you.”

They all shared looks of concern.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Murray huffed, holding up his hands in surrender. “And I’m certainly not even going to try and guess which band it is.” He pulled out his phone and messed around on it for a while.

During which they all watched with ever increasing dread. The silence seemed to stretch out on and on.

Then Chrissy’s phone pinged. Everyone jumped as she scrambled for her phone. She opened it up and blinked a moment.

“You signed a blanket statement NDA?” she asked handing her phone to Robin. “Why?”

Murray licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did it suck when Corroded Coffin pulled out of my management causing a shit ton of other people pulling out, too? Sure. But that’s the nature of the business. One that I had been in for over twenty years. I took it as a sign from the universe to retire and enjoy my life. Unlike the CC boys pulling out on Nancy Wheeler because she about to do some pretty shady shit. And I say that having been part of a business that used to be built on shady ass shit.”

Chrissy coughed and looked away to hide her smile.

“I’m guessing Steve’s band is why Corroded Coffin went nuclear on her in the first place?”

Steve looked over at Eddie and then nodded. “She was an ex-girlfriend and she tried to hold that over my head to get me to work with her.”

Murray let out a long and low whistle. “Shady doesn’t even begin to cover that shit. The void would be fucking closer. Shit.”

Robin handed back Chrissy her phone. “How did you get an NDA that fast anyway?”

“Oh that?” Murray asked with a huff of laughter. “I have a bunch of basic contracts and shit in my Google docs. Things can move fast in this business and it’s a good idea to keep a few on hand. Back in the old days we kept them in our briefcases that we carted around. This is sooo much easier.”

“Smart.”

Murray grinned back at her. He turned to Steve. “Come on, show us what that classical vocal training can really do.”

Steve blushed and began warming up his vocals as Robin grinned.

“You may think you’ve heard Steve sing,” she crowed, “but you’ve ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Then Steve really opened up and began to sing. There was a deepness to his voice that didn’t have anything to do with his range. He was clearly a tenor, but the rich quality to his voice just elevated it somehow.

“Rigoletto,” Murray said nodding appreciatively. “Well done.” He clapped slowly, but it wasn’t mocking. “Your parents must have been livid when you didn’t go into opera.”

Steve snorted. “About as angry as when they found out I was bisexual. They know what I am but if I go public with it...”

“They’ll make your life a nightmare?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I feel for you, kid.”

He looked around and grimaced. “I thick it’s time we make like Opera Ghost and scram. That performance of Steve’s here, is getting more attention than I thought it would.”

They looked around and sure enough there were people pointing at Steve.

“I’m not sure what the Venn diagram of opera and metal fans,” Chrissy said, “but I’m betting it’s not two separate circles.”

“Yeaahhh,” Eddie said with a wince.

He grabbed Steve’s hand and they ran for the doors. Murray and the girls hot on their heels.

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

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar au #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson

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dearharriet · 11 months ago

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hi lovely ! it's milunalupin :)

could i please request remus + "i waited for you" ? 🫶🏼✨

hello my friend, ty for the request!! im working on my big boy fic for james rn but i wanted a little bit of remus as a break <3 (wc: 691)

“You smell good.”

Remus looks at the man taking a seat across from him, appalled by such a comment. Sirius looks equally stunned saying it, wrinkled nose a mirror of Remus’.

“Thank you?”

Sirius shakes his head like this is the wrong response.

“Why do you smell good?”

Remus rolls his eyes, keeping his posture aloof. “Took my annual bath last night.”

Sirius scoffs. “‘Bout time. Your stench was getting harsh on my delicate canine senses.”

That pulls a laugh from Remus, however small.

By the door, he sees you squeezing into the packed pub, side-stepping between rowdy groups of people and looking around. You’re wearing a mid-length skirt, and when you spot the two boys in their booth it swishes around each hasty step.

“Hi,” you breathe, “I’m sorry. They made me start inventory and then I just had to shower and—” Remus stands to offer you some seclusion via the walled side of the bench seat. You wave your rambling apologies away, winded from running around all day. “Nevermind. I need a drink, Remus. Come with?”

“Sit,” he demands softly, “I’ll fetch it.”

You do as you’re told, hanging onto Remus’ words like a takeout fortune, foolishly hopeful that they mean something. If Sirius didn’t demand so much attention, you’d probably turn them over in your head a lot longer, but he really, really does.

“Think you can show us lads up, eh missy?”

Smothering a smile, you stare Sirius down with false bluntness.

“Yep. You’re lucky I even came at all, honestly.”

Sirius laughs, spinning his glass, half empty and through sweating. You realize his drink is the only one on the table.

“I’m surprised you did. You’re so popular, but you stay humble for us.”

“I have to,” you agree, “I could’ve been with people a lot cooler than you guys, but I just felt so bad. You and Remus don’t have anyone else to hang out with now that James is married.”

“Moony, we’re being bullied,” says Sirius, raising his voice a touch to reach the boy in question. Remus places two new drinks on the maple tabletop, sliding in close to you.

“I’m sure we deserve it,” he says, passing one of the fresh glasses off to you. “We’re turning into losers.”

You bring the cool glass to your lips, relaxing further into the familiar booth cushion and eyeing Remus’ new drink.

“Is that your second?”

Remus shakes his head. “My first.”

He tracks your brows as they pull together. They’d been here almost a half hour already.

“I waited for you,” he explains, smiling gently. Your stomach leaps.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Sirius jumps in, stepping on Remus’ toes.

“That’s what I told him,” he says, “I said you’re too sweet to mind.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus says, following up Sirius’ heel. His voice is still wearing the crooning silk he tends to direct towards you. “It’s the polite thing to do. Sirius just has poor manners.”

Across the way, the man in question sputters objections while you try not to laugh.

“I—I’m impolite? I’m impolite! Please. She’s the only one at this table who was late to a hangout one block away from her apartment. I had every right to drink my sorrows away.”

Remus ducks his head and shoots you a cat-like grin, but Sirius isn’t done.

“And it’s not being polite if you’re motivated by a massive crush, Moony, by the way. D’you know he’s wearing cologne?”

You stare at Sirius, because the alternative of looking at Remus (who is flushed beyond measure) is akin to a death sentence.

“Yes,” you admit. You’d smelled it on him when he stood up earlier, a fresh earthy scent that was too sharp to be soap. Sirius points at your face like he’s caught you.

“See? The only people who notice a guy wearing cologne are his miserable best mates, and girls who want to be waited on.” Remus shoots him a glare and he throws his hands up as if to say, sue me. “I’m just helping.”

Remus curses through an exhale and drops his head into his hands.

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration! 🩷

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jaegeraether · 1 year ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 4)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (4)

Masterlist (other parts here)

“Nooo. You said we’d go!” YFN said to Jordan, raising an eyebrow. They’d just arrived and were still sitting in the car, however YFN had noticed that Jordan’s lower lip was beginning to quiver.

“Yes, yes alright. Let me just pull myself together.”

YFN turned in her seat to face her. “We are..?”

Jordan took a deep breath and turned to YFN. “Strong independent women.”

“Who know how to…?

“Who know how to set boundaries for our own mental health.”

“I’m honestly so proud of you for remembering that, Dory.”

Jordan grinned at that name and YFN felt more and more like she’d gained a little sibling during her trip overseas.

They high-fived and made their way to dinner. They entered the restaurant and immediately started heading for the loudest area there. Lucy spotted them first, her attention had been on the door waiting for them for the past half hour. She stood and gestured to the seats next to her. They spotted Leah further up the table and Jordan gave a polite wave. YFN noticed Leah was wondering at who she was, having been at the game with her ex and now at dinner. YFN returned a small smile to her and ducked down to whisper in Jordan’s ear.

“Safe word is pineapples. If I hear you say that, we leg it.”

Jordan turned to her and laughed heartedly at that, grabbing her new friend’s arm as they both hung off each other giggling. They reached their seats and Lucy’s heart skipped a beat as they came close, her best friend and her new friend still bantering. Before YFN could choose a seat, Jordan sat next to Lucy and she ended up between her and Jorge.

Dinner was great, YFN met most of the players and so many more friends and family members. She spoke with Jorge and his wife a lot during the night and they actually got on quite well. Half-way through dinner, Jorge’s son offered a chicken nugget to YFN in exchange for some more chips. She more than willingly made the trade and took a bite of it.

“You’re a monster.” Lucy stated across Jordan.

YFN turned to her, hiding a smile. “It was a fair trade.”

“Not that… no sauce? Just a dry nugget? Unbelievable.”

YFN laughed and Lucy was proud of herself for making her. “Oh, well I don’t have any…”

Before she could finish, the footballer was reaching over Jordan and putting condiments down in front of her. So many condiments.

“Alright you two, jeez, just switch with me YFN, I need to spend some time with Jorge and the kids anyways.”

“Thanks Dory!”

Jorge laughed loudly at that. “Dory? Ha! Perfect! Why didn’t I think of that?”

They switched seats and there was immediate tension between her and Lucy, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“So…what do you suggest? I’m usually a big aioli girl.”

“Of course you don't know a good sauce, you Australians are so behind the times. All those pretty beaches and no care in the world.”

“Heeey don’t you start on my country. I’ll fight you if I have to.” Her eyes flicked down to Lucy’s bicep and she noticed, holding it out and flexing for her.

“Good luck, little one.”

Something shifted then…or rather it intensified. Lucy’s nickname caught her off-guard and she was suddenly forgetting how to breath.

“Try this one,” Lucy continued as she put the dip in front of her. “It’s sweet and sour.”

YFN liked it and Lucy again seemed proud of herself, giving her some more little things to try.

“Is that Lucy sharing her food?!” One of her teammates yelled across the table.

YFN was surprised and looked at Lucy who she could swear was blushing. “She’s Australian, I’m making her try different foods. Lay off it.” They tried a few different things with different condiments together, leaning in and on occasion brushing arms or legs or fingers. YFN hadn’t felt like this since she was flirting back in high school. She loved it. They spoke about the game and many other things, and when Jordan went to the bathroom, Lucy thanked her again. “I haven’t seen her so happy in so long. You two certainly made friends quickly.”

“She’s so much fun. We’ve been having a great time together, and I think she has another week off with international break so we’re going to hang out a little more.”

“Maybe I can join at some stage?” Lucy asked quietly. YFN noticed this about her when they first met. There were two Lucy’s. The quiet, intelligent one who keeps to herself and is somewhat shy even. And then there’s the loud, big child Lucy who was the most confident person in the world.

YFN made sure to catch her eye as she grinned. “I’d love that.”

Shortly after, Lucy left to get more drinks for the group and YFN left for the bathroom. Just as she was leaving the bathroom, Lucy walked in and paused when she saw her, both caught off guard.

“Hi..”

“Hi..” YFN replied as if they hadn’t just been chatting and sharing food. “I’m just going to..” She gestured to the door. Lucy nodded but stayed where she was. YFN brushed past and Lucy was tempted to reach out. Just then the door swung open and YFN fell backwards, Lucy catching her. They both stared at the intoxicated man in the doorway. “Oh.. sorry wrong one.” He left and the door swung closed to leave them alone again.

Both women were both very aware of the fact that Lucy’s hands were still on YFN’s waist. She didn’t want her to let go and so she turned in her hands so they were face to face and at the same time they pivoted so Lucy’s back was against the wall. They were face to face and YFN’s hands were on Lucy’s biceps. Their breathing was getting heavier as their eyes flickered to each other’s mouths. Both didn’t make the first move, but they just sort of gradually drifted heads together. A shared look reassured them that they both wanted this. They didn’t kiss but their lips brushed together softly, teasingly, as they both revelled in the moment, quivering against each other. The tension was high and both women were waiting for the other to break and grab at each other in desperation. Both gave in simultaneously then, YFN grabbed the collar of Lucy’s shirt and pulled as Lucy’s hand found the side of her face, her fingers slightly in her hair. Their lips were soft at first but didn’t take long to get aggressive, and desperate. Their hands wandered all over each other and they were gasping for air in between desperate kisses. Lucy’s lips were so soft under hers, and she could tell that she was forcing herself to be patient, although they really weren’t. YFN took Lucy’s bottom lip in between her teeth and bit softly, pulling. Lucy moaned at this, “Fuck,” and bit her lip in return. Lucy’s tongue traced the lip she just bit and YFN’s hand came up to tangle itself in Lucy’s hair, grabbing it as she tilted her head for their tongues to have better access. Their desperation grew as their moans and gasping and swearing filled the empty room. YFN used her hands in Lucy’s hair and on her bicep to pull her even closer, and away from the wall. What was she doing? Was she about to drag Lucy Bronze back into a cubicle and fuck her? Lucy responded by moaning, one hand cupping her face and the other stroked down YFN’s body from her neck, over her chest and her abdomen, around her hips and then under her shirt up her back. YFN shivered at the feel of her hand on her bare skin. Lucy pressed them together. “Lucy,” YFN managed to gasp.

The door swung open then and the two jumped apart. Georgia was in the doorway, eyes wide as they flickered between YFN and Lucy. Both were breathing heavy, their lips red and swollen, their faces flushed. Lucy’s hair definitely needed to be fixed. Georgia opened and closed her mouth multiple times before she found words, “Sorry! I’ll come back.”

Before Lucy could stop her, she left the room. The two looked at each other sheepishly.

“Is that bad?” YFN asked, gesturing to where Georgia had just been standing.

Lucy shook her head. “No, she’s a good friend. She’s just a kid though, and she’s very good friends with my ex.”

“Oh…” YFN felt like she’d just started some drama.

“It’s okay, it’s not a problem at all.” Lucy stepped towards her but stopped at YFN’s unsure expression.

“We’re strangers, Luce. You don’t know me… and I don’t know you,” she whispered.

“I know everything about you that I need to know.” Lucy said softly, but confident and reassuringly. She’d spoken to Jordan a lot about YFN and that was a lot of the reason she liked the Australian so much. As well as the obvious sexual tension. “As for me, well… I’m a public figure so you know I’m not a psychopath.”

“Those two things are more likely to be in common that you realise..”

Lucy gave a little chuckle. “You got me there. Not a psychopath, at least in the daylight. But I’d really like to spend more time with you so we can get to know each other a bit better?”

YFN nodded and gave her little dimply smile as she looked at the ground. A few strands of hair fell over her face. “I’d like that.”

Lucy reached out and took her chin between her thumb and forefinger and tilted her head up. YFN fell into those playful, intelligent green eyes again and without thinking she stepped forwards and kissed her again, though this time it was the softest kiss she’d ever had. Their lips fit together and so gently as if they would break each other, and it took a little time before they broke apart.

“Fuck.” They said in unison.

YFN stepped back with a happy little smile. Her phone dinged then and she pulled it out to look.

Dory: Pineapples

“Oh…” she said. “Pineapples. I need to go.”

Lucy looked confused. “Pineapples?”

YFN grinned at her confusion. “My safe word. Pineapples.” She didn’t say anything else, leaving it and watching as Lucy thought it over.

YFN saw as soon as the realisation hit her eyes. “Jords…”

YFN nodded. “Pineapples.”

#lucy bronze #jordan nobbs #engwnt #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso soccer #womens football #lionesses #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

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dewracle · 6 months ago

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Sorted Through Slots

PAIRING - Sleep Token III x Sleep Token Vessel

WARNING - NSFW! Attempted SA, First Time Bottoming, Loss of Virginity, Violence, Blood and Injury, Mild Dubious Consent,

AUTHOR'S NOTE - Woo! I finally finished this! It took me a while since I've been working on lots of things BUT! I hope to make this into a series in the future. Hope everyone enjoys this. I'll be watching with my popcorn. SUMMARY - Vessel had always been a loner, someone no one noticed even when he tried to stand out. But sometimes it takes giving yourself to a stranger who just saved you for you to actually be noticed.

WORD COUNT - 6,528

Master List - Ao3

“I’ll be fine really, no need to worry about me.” Vessel laughed softly as he ducked out of the record shop’s doorway. He didn’t need the concern from someone who barely even cared, he never did. It was just himself against the world, lonely and fighting through life. This wasn’t new to him, the pity and fake concern; after all that’s what he grew up with.

His boss had caught wind of his plans for the night and was “worried” about him. Vessel never knew if the older man was actually worried about him or if he was just concerned about his performance at work the next day.

While yes, it did bother Vessel as he exited into the old streets many nights, he tried to never let it stop him from enjoying the local music scene at the bar. That was where he felt most at peace, among the music and alcohol.

Vessel had been thriving with the music scene and enjoyed basking in its glory, even though he would never taste the sweet flavor firsthand. He had gone to college for music and yet as soon as he was released from that hell, he was left empty-handed with nowhere to go.

So, he took it upon himself to get as close as possible to his desired dream. Getting a job at a record store had been his best bet at the time with the need for money. It barely allowed him to scrape by, but he wasn’t too upset with his situation. After all, he could at least relax and scribble in his notebook while also working.

The chill of the wind brought Vessel back to the present. He stood in front of the bar with high hopes that his dreams would come true but he knew that would be crushed soon. Like they always are.

Vessel pushed through the door and was greeted by the sound of loud rock playing from the far corner. He grinned at the music he had grown fond of, the steady beat and vocals thrumming in his chest. This was one of the bands he knew frequently played at the bar. Their lead singer was talented but not passionate enough to want to go further. Though Vessel had always admired the drummer and his skills, he never dared approach him out of fear; not even the alcohol he often consumed could ease the nerves he felt.

The bar thankfully wasn’t as crowded tonight, since it was a Wednesday. Vessel chuckled to himself as the bartender he had grown fond of bounced her way over to him.

“What can I get ya tonight? The usual or..?” She smiled and tilted her head softly. Her bouncy blond curls gently lay against her shoulders. Nearly nightly visits and tipping well would get you this kind of treatment.

“Just a beer tonight. Stout maybe?” Vessel shrugged and slid his card over for her to put on file.

The bartender nodded while idly working her magic. She was bobbing her head in time with the music, something Vessel had noticed many times before. He couldn’t help but find himself tapping his fingers to the beat of the drums.

The tall man turned to face the stage, taking in the appearance of the singer. He stood so proud yet bored with his music. A man who was comfortable with where he was,no matter the situation or crowd.

Vessel envied the singer, envied how he was able to confidently be on stage with people who cared about him. Even with how little effort he put in, it seemed everyone loved him. Lucky bastard.

His attention was brought back to the bartender by the soft clink of his beer being set down. He offered her a soft smile before grasping the cold glass. There was already a little bit of the liquid spilling over the side but he couldn't care less, he just needed to drink.

It didn’t take long for the one beer to turn into multiple and those then turning into shots. The deep-seated need to erase the pain led Vessel to drink more than he could normally handle. He wished for more, but the concerned yet polite smile from the bartender screamed ‘no’.

“Love, I think you’ve had enough, I'm cutting you off for the night.” She politely smiled and pushed his card and a receipt into his hand.

While this was common for others, it still stung deep into Vessel’s heart. It reminded him of his mother’s gentle yet passive-aggressive words; “That’s enough [redacted], you’ve already done enough.”

His mother’s words echoed in his head as he stood on shaky legs. The once enjoyable atmosphere of the bar was soured by these old wounds. He tried to stumble his way out of the event, ignoring the way his legs wobbled and the world spun. The blond didn’t make it far before his stumbling turned into tripping over his own feet. Thankfully he was caught by a man before he could fall.

A man only slightly shorter than him smiled at Vessel. His crooked smile looked sinister because of his jagged teeth. If he was sober, Vessel would have understood the twisting in his gut wasn’t the alcohol, but rather his intuition screaming at him. This man was bad news but the blonde couldn’t seem to truly understand that.

“Look at you sweets, can’t even stand on your own two feet,” The man teased and squeezed Vessel’s waist, “Need me to take you somewhere? Maybe the back?”

Vessel shot the man a confused look as he staggered against him. Why was this random man holding him? Oh, but it felt so nice to have hands on him, gently squeezing and digging into his side. Subconsciously Vessel nodded; maybe he did need to sit down somewhere quiet.

With how intoxicated Vessel was, he honestly didn’t notice all the pitiful looks he was gathering. Not even the random girl softly trying to grab his attention could help him anymore.They were probably because of how drunk he was.

The hand on his back slowly guided him further into the bar, deeper into a section he had never seen before. It was shocking, to say the least; Vessel had been everywhere in this bar at this point, so where was he now? “Where're we..?”

The man ignored Vessel’s question and opted to push his hand under the back of Vessel’s shirt. The cold hand made Vessel shiver and giggle softly. He liked the attention and enjoyed the small touch.

“In here, no one will bother us, sweets..” The man opened the door and his tone deepened.

Vessel tried to stagger his way into the private room but something pulled at him deep within his chest. A gut feeling finally hit him enough to turn around. “Hey... I don’t-“

Yet his words were cut off when the man shoved him against the wall and covered his mouth roughly. Disgusting brown eyes stared into Vessel’s watery blues. The man smelled horrible and he gave Vessel all the warning signs he should have listened to from the beginning.

“Listen here slag, you’re gonna go in that room and fucking like it, got it?!” His attacker hissed out, his voice rising in volume with every word. To emphasize his statement, he shoved his knee between Vessel’s thighs and ground it upwards.

The taller’s harsh cry was muffled against the hand covering his mouth, but it didn’t stop him from banging on the walls to bring attention to the situation. Vessel knew he couldn’t pull the man off of him, not in his drunken state.

The tears began to fall down his face as he realized this was his reality, this was exactly what he thought he deserved. The sobs from his mouth and banging didn’t deter his attacker from shoving him deeper into the room; but they did alert a man standing nearby.

Vessel fell to the ground in the disgusting room, his sobs growing louder as he tried to find an escape. “Please- I just- No!”

He was frantic and hysterical as the attacker grabbed his leg to spread his thighs. “No no no! Fucking stop!”

Vessel screamed and kicked at the man’s hands. It only angered him further and his grip tightened on his calf. The man’s body language was angry, realizing that Vessel wasn’t going to be as easy as he originally thought.

“I don’t care what you want! You’re too drunk to know you don’t want me! Bitches like you always want-“ The balding man cursed loudly at Vessel, the anger in his eyes shocking fear through Vessel’s system.

He didn’t get to touch Vessel for much longer as a looming figure with dyed red hair came up behind him. Vessel’s eyes widened as he curled his legs up to his chest, his attacker snarling with anger. “Fucking bitch, just give it to me!”

“He’s not giving you shit.” The red-haired man stated, stone cold.

His attacker whipped around so quickly that he stumbled a little. “Who the fuck are you!?”

The taller man tilted his head in anger as he grabbed Vessel’s attacker by the shirt collar. “No one.”

He didn’t allow the disgusting human being to speak more than an angry growl. The redhead was not playing around as his fist made contact with the attacker’s face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch.

There was a deranged look in the taller’s eyes as he dragged the man towards the wall to bash his face against it repetitively. Though the attacker did get a few punches in, they did nothing more than cause him to smile with blood now pouring down his clearly broken nose.

All Vessel could do was sit in shock as he listened to the sound of flesh hitting flesh and pained screams. He sat up slowly as the sounds grew louder. For a moment, he feared the red-haired man was going to kill his attacker, maybe Vessel wanted that. Vessel sniffled and wiped his face as dry as he could, the tears and snot soaking into his hoodie sleeve.

“Who do you think you are, getting off on drunk people!” The redhead screamed before he was roughly shoved into the hallway.

Vessel flinched as he peaked around the corner to watch the violence unfold. He shuddered at the amount of blood covering both parties. It was akin to a blood bath, blood smeared on the walls and their clothes. Vessel couldn’t help but think it was beautiful.

But the sobering truth set in as security guards started rushing towards them; they were going to be kicked out. Vessel panicked and gathered all his strength to stand on still shaky legs. His nerves were high as the guards ripped the two men apart, got even higher as the next guard turned to focus on him.

“You! Out! I don’t care who started it! We’re ending it! All three of you out!” One of the larger guards yelled while roughly grabbing Vessel’s upper arm.

His breath hitched as he was escorted out of the back of the bar, being thrown out alongside the red-haired male with great force. He stumbled and let out an embarrassing whimper, his whole body aching after the treatment. Vessel’s savior, if he could be called that, wrapped his arm protectively around his shoulders as the attacker stumbled deeper into the alleyway. His pained groans and spitting fury could be heard. Serves him right.

A beat of awkward silence passed over Vessel and the other man. He quickly ripped himself away from the man and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Fuckin hell..” Vessel mumbled while rubbing at his thighs to self-soothe, hands trembling.

The redhead chuckled and leaned against the wall with a soft smile. “You okay there?”

Vessel flinched and looked up, the height difference making itself evident as his blue eyes met the other’s. “Fuck, no… But thank you uh…”

“[Redacted], but you can call me III.”

III smiles softly as he offers his hand to Vessel. But once he sees how bloody his hand is he curses under his breath and quickly pulls it away. “Shit, sorry, I’m covered in that dick bag's blood.”

“And your own,” Vessel points out as a fat drop of blood drips onto III’s shirt.

He watches as III’s shaking hand wipes the blood away, the man’s soft hiss loud to Vessel’s ears.

“Shit, sorry, I just- Fuck, that hurts..” III pouts softly while wiping the blood onto his skinny jeans. Vessel’s eyes drift down to follow the movement. How the hell did he even fit in those?

“Uh… Do you live nearby..?” Vessel awkwardly asked and shuffled his feet out of nervousness. God, he needed better social skills.

III softly chuckled and shook his head, the red locks beautifully framing his face. Vessel came to the conclusion this man had to be a heartbreaker. “I’m way out, came here for a friend.”

The blonde wrapped his arms around himself and nodded; of course this would be the case. “I don’t live far, maybe a couple of blocks. I can take you there, patch you up..”

III hesitated for a second before nodding and allowing Vessel to lead the way. Vessel himself wasn’t sure why he did it, but he grabbed III’s hand and began pulling him towards his house. His gut feeling from before didn’t scream, so he had to be safe right?

###

His hands shook hard as he unlocked the door to his shitty small apartment. Once unlocked, Vessel dropped his keys onto the table by the door.

“I guess, go sit on the couch?” Vessel asked more than stated as he walked to the bathroom where he stored the first aid kit. Why is he allowing such a man in his house? His safe place? He isn’t so sure but he can’t seem to stop the pull he felt for the other.

“Jesus, you're nervous.” III joked as he plopped himself on the couch, stretching out and relaxing into the furniture.

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Vessel kneeled down to grab the kit from under the bathroom sink.Though he was mostly sobered up the adrenaline caused his body to shake and tremble.. He let out a shaky sigh while righting himself. Damn, adrenaline made it harder for him to stand without the fear of falling over.. His knees and ass ached from the rough treatment. Vessel was fucked, but he couldn’t back out of his promise of taking care of III.

Making his way back to the man, he dropped the small box on the coffee table in front of him. “Let me fix you up since you helped me..”

Vessel doesn't give the man a chance to protest before he steps between his legs to sit on the table. III watched with a slightly shocked expression, eyes curious and playful.

"So, you're gonna play nurse now?" He teased while leaning forward to give Vessel a better angle to his clearly swollen nose.

Vessel rolled his eyes and gathered a wet wipe to clean the blood away. He hesitated at first, nervous about getting close to the man in such a way. Would III hurt him if he did anything wrong?

III noticed the distant look on Vessel's face, the way Vessel worried his teeth over his bottom lip. He gently rested his hand on the scared man's thigh in a comforting manner. "Hey... You don't have to do this."

They stared at each other for a quiet moment, just taking in one another. Vessel's eyes traced over III's features, his mustache, the soft blue ocean that he calls eyes, and the crusty blood from his busted lip and nose. He was attractive in ways Vessel had never expected anyone to be.

Vessel chuckled and carefully moved to wipe away the dark blood. "It's okay... Just don't have liquid courage in me anymore."

The redhead hissed at the sting of the wipe before staring deeply into Vessel's eyes. He was lost in thought, lost in the concentrated expression of his little nurse.

In truth, III didn't think he would have stumbled across anyone like this, ever. He had just gone to the bar for a few drinks after a stressful day with his friend. But, something pulled him to follow Vessel as he was being dragged away by the other man. It had tugged deep in his chest, the urge to stand up for the other man.

III never did agree with situations like that, predatory men searching for drunken people to have their way with. It rubbed him wrong, it should rub everyone wrong. Yet no one but III had actually put in the effort to prevent anything from happening. Everyone had sat back and watched as Vessel stumbled while being dragged to the back. No one stood, no one moved. They had all just shot him pitying looks like they knew..

“I- I need to reset it..” Vessel mumbled softly after he finished clearing the blood.

“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll be fine, doll,” Vessel blushed at the nickname, the sweet red color reaching the tips of his ears. Beautiful was all that III could think, the man in front of him was beautiful.

III braced himself with his hands on Vessel’s knees, his little nurse’s shaky hands gently resting on his face. “Take a deep breath, and please don’t punch me..”

If III could have laughed, he would have, but the sickening feeling of Vessel forcing his nose back in place made him gasp. “Son of a bitch!”

His grip on Vessel tightened almost painfully as the blonde shot him a sympathetic look. ‘Sorry, just need to…”

Vessel’s apology did little to bandage over the fact he had to push again. But, oh, those soft blue eyes filled with worry did. They soothed the dull, throbbing pain and sent warmth into his stomach like no other.

“Damn... How did you- how do you know how to do this?” III relaxed once Vessel released his face.

The shorter man squirmed under the question, under III’s glaze. “My ex needed his nose fixed so... I had to learn...”

III doesn’t pull away, in fact, he gets closer under the guise of letting Vessel look at his handy work. “So, you got me fixed up then?”

Vessel hummed softly and tilted III’s head, inspecting the slight dip where the nose had been broken.. “I suppose. Might hurt to breathe for a bit, but you can handle that... Right?”

The redhead smiled softly, the cut on his lip stretching slightly as he did. “Yeah... I’m a big boy, pain for someone pretty like you is fine.”

The flirting caused Vessel to gasp slightly, his eyes flicking down to III’s lip out of instinct. Yet III continued while slipping his hand to the back of Vessel’s neck, gently playing with the hair there.

“Tell me if it’s too much…” III mumbled while smirking softly. The soft moan that Vessel let out encouraged him to continue.

“Your eyes… They’re beautiful. Can’t get enough of those pretty blues.” III chuckled softly as he brushed his lips against Vessel’s.

III’s slightly chapped lips, the scent of blood lingering on him, it all overwhelmed Vessel in the best way. So, he was the one to initiate the kiss. Vessel timidly pushed his much softer lips against III’s, whimpering softly and hoping what he had done was okay.

III was shocked the other kissed him first but he happily returned it. At first, it was awkward, the angle forcing them into a position that was edging on uncomfortable. It left much to be desired as neither of them were truly able to kiss the way they needed.

But as Vessel shakily reached for III’s shirt, something in III was tipped over the edge. He carefully drags Vessel into his lap, holding the other close to him.

Vessel whined softly, his whole body aching and shaking with nerves; fuck, III’s lips tasted good. They tasted faintly of beerand blood. The bitter iron taste became more apparent as III’s cut lip oozed against Vessel’s.

Yet III needed more, he tilted Vessel’s head back as the other shifted over his spread thighs. The change in angle caused Vessel to moan softly as III guided him through short, deep kisses.

The pathetic man in III’s lap squirmed as he felt his cock filling, hardening from the simple kisses. It was exhilarating to have a man he barely knew kiss him so passionately. He wanted to take him apart and have him whining just from small touches. The same man that had just nearly killed someone for him.

“Fuck, sugar, you taste so good..” III whispered softly before diving back into another kiss. The confession made Vessel’s head spin, his grip tightening on III’s shoulders to slowly grind himself on the other’s lap.

It was so much, almost too much yet not enough for Vessel. The hands on his thighs traveled to his ass as III grabbed a handful of the soft fat. At the same time, the redhead changed the pace of the kiss, having grown tired of their tongues just barely touching one another. III needed to taste inside of Vessel’s mouth, to feel their tongues rubbing against one another. He needed to know the soft sounds Vessel would make as he tongue fucked his mouth.

He growled softly as Vessel finally opened his mouth, allowing him to have what he truly wanted; the taste of the blonde’s mouth. It was bitter with the beer he had consumed yet faintly sweet after the first taste passed.

Neither of them seemed to be able to get enough of one another, their kiss turning into pure tongue and saliva Vessel’s whines got more frequent as his body vibrated with need.

It made III chuckle softly as he kissed Vessel's cheek, “You sound as beautiful as you look…”

Vessel twisted his fist in III’s black shirt, his voice soft and airy. “And you tease too much..”

III kisses down Vessel’s neck, nipping softly to tease even further. He bucks his own hips up, grinding his half-chub against Vessel’s ass. He groans softly at the slight friction, now groping Vessel’s assmore as he pulls Vessel to grind against him.

“Aah fuck..! O-oh god!” Vessel moaned at the bucking and grinding, but he craved more than just this; his hole ached to be filled like never before.

The thought of taking III’s cock as his first caused his own to twitch in his skinny jeans. Vessel had never touched anyone sexually, hell, this was his first make-out session since high school. Yet he was willing to hand III anything he could offer, and right now he was offering his virginity.

III shifted them, his hands running up Vessel’s sides to grip him tightly. In one swift movement, he flips them so Vessel’s back is on the couch. “You need it, don’t you? Need my prick?”

Vessel let out a soft gasp as he was manhandled for the first time. His body shuddered as he keened out for more. He quickly nodded, his blonde hair splayed out on the couch cushion. Almost instinctively Vessel dropped his thighs to spread wider to accommodate III between them. It made him feel dirty, but in the best way.

The man above him groans and quickly gets up, leaving Vessel confused and worried he did something wrong. "I'm not going to fuck you on your couch. Sorry, but if you haven't noticed, we're both tall."

III chuckles softly and offers a hand out to Vessel, which is quickly taken. He looks at the other, eyes traveling down to the prominent bulge in Vessel's pants. "Bedroom...?"

"O-Oh, yeah, this way..." Vessel mumbled while pulling III to his bedroom. Once they entered the room, it was cozy and clearly lived in by a depressed person. But III didn't pay any mind to it as he backed Vessel into the bed.

The shorter was confused and scared, but despite that, aroused and ready. When the back of his knees hit the bed, he sits down and slowly crawls to the top. Once he rests against the pillows, III kicks his shoes off and crawls between Vessel's legs with a predatory smirk. The look makes Vessel whimper softly, cock twitching slightly in his pants.

The redhead carefully takes Vessel's shoes and socks off, his eyes never leaving Vessel's as he tosses them to the floor. His intense gaze caused Vessel to shiver and his blush that had faded to quickly return. "You don't have to look at me like that..."

The awkward man mumbled softly as III ran his hands up and down his thighs, squeezing them gently to drag a soft moan from him. Vessel tried to shrink away, tried to bury himself further into the pillows. Fuck, he was nervous enough that his hard-on softened slightly.

He wasn't sure if III noticed or not, but it didn't seem to stop him from leaning down to catch his lips in another heated kiss. Kissing was something he could do even though he was clumsily trying to match III's movements. Once he was able to, he couldn't help the soft needy whines escaping his mouth.

III's hands pushed up to the button on Vessel's pants and he groaned against the other's lips as he unbuttoned them and found Vessel wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Fuck... No underwear?" III whispered softly as he reached into Vessel's pants, cupping his leaking cock in his large hand.

Vessel arched into III's hand, shook his head and covered his face out of embarrassment. "Hate boxers..."

III groans softly and squeezes Vessel's cock gently before pulling his hands out of his pants. His eyes are full of lust and want as he carefully removes Vessel's pants, dragging the denim down his legs and purposely giving the shy man goosebumps.

It pulls a soft whine from Vessel and he closes his legs once his pants are removed. III brushes it off and carefully pulls Vessel's arms away from his face. The soft smile makes Vessel's heart flutter softly, the other man comforting him so easily.

"Here... Let me take your shirt off and then you can take mine off, deal?" III said softly while pulling the hem of Vessel's shirt over his head.

With his shirt off Vessel sits there quietly, chest flushed and softly rising with his deep inhales. His blue eyes are wide as he looks up at the man between his legs. This is the furthest he's ever been with anyone and fuck, did it make him needy.

III gestures to his shirt with a raised eyebrow, "Do you still wanna..."

Vessel sits up slowly, his hands shaking when he grabs III's shirt. He bites his lip as his hand makes contact with III's hot skin, "Jesus..."

"What..?" III questions as he leans down to help Vessel take his shirt off. He was confident in his body, the thick trail of brown curls leading to his cock, the soft plush that covered his muscles. His body oozed sex appeal that the blonde wanted nothing more than to drink in, so he did.

Vessel shuddered as he ran his hands over III's chest, just taking the redhead in. "You look good..."

That earned a chuckle from III as he pushed Vessel's hand to unbutton his pants. "Thanks beautiful, but I can't compare to you… So fucking sexy."

The teasing caused Vessel to stutter, to struggle with the button of III's jeans, a soft whimper escaping the virgin as he got more desperate. His cock kicked at the thought of getting to feel III more than just over his pants. Noticing his struggle, III took it upon himself to undo his own pants.

He carefully pushed his pants and underwear down and with a little effort, III was naked just as Vessel was. They sat in each others' presence for a moment; III's cock standing heavy between his legs, twitching slightly as Vessel moves to lay down.

Watching Vessel lay down for him snapped III out of the trance he was in, his eyes darting to the bedside table. "Lube in there?" He asked while reaching for it. He barely even had to get Vessel's answer before he found the mostly full bottle.

III wanted to make a comment about how full the bottle was but decided against it, focusing instead on the soft whine Vessel let out. He had to bite his lip as Vessel slowly spread his legs, his cock flushed red with need.

"Hurry up..." Vessel whined softly; he couldn't help but reach for his prick to slowly stroke it. He teased himself to stay hard, the nerves slowly weaning as III touched him.

"I need to prep you, Jesus... Needy bottom." III joked while squirting some lube onto three fingers.

Vessel's heart rate picked up as he watched the man above him warm the gel that was going to go into him soon. He sucked in a deep breath and looked longingly into III's eyes.

"Only for you..." The blonde sighed softly when he felt the gentle touch of III's calloused finger against his rim.

His words earned a groan from deep within III's chest, his cock drooling at the thought. "Yeah? Not gonna let anyone else fuck you like this?" III spoke as he slowly slipped a single finger inside of Vessel.

The slight stretch wasn't uncomfortable but it still drew a gasp and Vessel shook softly. It felt weird till III slowly crooked his finger repetitively to stretch his walls.

"Sh-shit... Feels so good." Vessel mumbled and gripped the sheets under him, his hips slowly grinding down to feel more of the finger.

"Needy thing, so fucking cute." III laughed and he replaced Vessel's hand on his cock with his own, adding in the second finger.

That stretch made Vessel's eyebrows knit together for a moment; it burned yet it was enjoyable all the same. "Can't help it, need it so fucking bad."

III shifted his fingers, pushing them upwards while slowly stroking Vessel's cock. His breathing hitched as Vessel let out a loud, pleasured moan. He couldn't take his eyes away from the sight of Vessel's slightly open mouth, panting and squirming because of him.

"One more finger and then you can have my cock, yeah?" III tried to reason with Vessel, carefully pushing the third and final finger into Vessel's gently stretched hole.

"Please! Fucking hurry!" Vessel whined and panted. The soft moans and squirming brought a smile to III's face when he realized why Vessel was reacting so beautifully.

He pushed his fingers against the soft spot again, targeting it while cooing softly. "Is that your bitch button? Your sweet little prostate getting milked?"

Vessel arched his back, a silent scream ripping through him as his body quivered in pleasure. "III! Stop- Stop- I'mma cum!"

"Perfect..." III mumbled and continued to focus on Vessel's prostate, his hand now covered in the other's precum. Just as Vessel's cock kicks, ready to cum, III grips the base roughly, preventing him from cumming.

"Wait, no, please.. please, wanna cum so bad!" Vessel whimpered, squirming and grinding down against III's long fingers.

"No baby, not yet. I want you to cum on my cock..." III stated while slowly pulling his fingers out of Vessel's stretched rim.

The punched out whine Vessel let out nearly broke III’s heart. His flushed face, glossy eyes, and leaking cock drew III in even harder. If it were possible, he would love to ruin this man for anyone else.

Quickly, III grabbed the lube once more and squirted a generous amount onto his cock. The cold liquid made him shudder but it quickly warmed up when he started to stroke himself to spread it.

"Fffucckkk!" Vessel whines at the lewd image before him, aching for the cock that was about to go inside him to ruin his hole..

III’s soft chuckle and shifting as he lined himself up with Vessel's hole alarms him and he began to quiver. The anticipation was worth it as III looked into his blue eyes with a smirk.

"You ready..?" The redhead asked while rubbing the tip of his cock over Vessel's well-lubed hole.

Vessel whined nervously and looked away as reality hit him; he was about to have sex with some random guy he met at a bar... The same man who saved him from an attacker.

III took Vessel's little whine as a yes and slowly penetrated his virgin hole. They both gasped out in pleasure as the thick head of III's cock popped inside.

"Holy shit, you're tight..!" III groaned loudly while gripping at Vessel's thighs to keep them spread open.

Instinctually, Vessel clenched down around the cock inside of him, hot flashes of pleasure and pain washing over him. His own forgotten cock drooled thick globs of pre.

III grunted and wrapped his hand around Vessel's cock to hopefully relax him so he could push in further. "Breathe baby... Gotta relax to take it. Don't you wanna take it like a good boy?"

It was a struggle to breathe through the pain, but III's assuring dirty talk and the grip on his cock helped. He was able to take a deep breath and willing himself to loosen his hole.

"There you go... Fucking yeah, that's it." III moaned in sync with Vessel as he pushed deeper.

The lube made a wet squishing noise as III finally bottomed out inside of him. Vessel moaned loudly and his back arched. He had never felt so full in his life, III's cock taking up every inch of space inside him that he never even thought could be filled.

"O-oh my god.. Oh fuck, oh fuck..!" Vessel keened as III carefully rolled his hips to begin thrusting.

Vessel drooled and squirmed as III laughed quietly at his pleasure. "Acting like you've never been fucked this good before; like having cock in your arse,love?"

III never got an answer because Vessel reached for him, making grabby hands at him so he'd lean down. The blonde's eyelashes were wet with tears of pleasure as he whined for III to kiss him.

The taller can't help but take Vessel's lips with his own, the kiss sloppy with spit as they moan into one another's mouth.

"F-Ah! Faster!" Vessel practically screamed when he pulled away from the kiss to throw his head back.

And faster III went, deciding against restraint and snapping his hips faster into Vessel's pretty hole. He could feel it sucking him in, clenching and begging for him to ruin it.

III growled in pleasure while grabbing Vessel's legs to push them over his shoulders. He leaned down, forcing out a scream from Vessel as he was folded in half. "God, I could get used to this tight cunt."

All Vessel could do was reach between them and just barely stroke his cock while being forced to take the rough thrusts.

"Take it! A-ah! It's yours!" Vessel moaned out as III shifted his hips perfectly to hit his prostate.

III took what was his by pounding his thick cock into Vessel over and over again. Their moans of pleasure filled the room as they got closer to their orgasms.

Vessel’s cock was sensitive and throbbing with the need to cum, thick tears running down his face. He was sobbing with pleasure as his prostate was targeted by III’s girth.

But the taller man just kept thrusting, ruining and gaping Vessel’s hole to make room for himself.

“Pretty boy gonna cum for me? Cum on my cock?” III groaned as Vessel clenched around him, “Fuck, please- Would feel so good having you milk me!”

Vessel shook his head as he sobbed, sensitive prick jumping as his orgasm took him by surprise, untouched.

“F-fucckkk!!” He keened loudly, cum quite literally being fucked out of him as III’s hips stuttered against his.

The redhead gasped as Vessel’s hole fluttered around him, clenching and twitching to take him in. The tight, wet hole forced III to grit his teeth in an attempt to stave off his orgasm.

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for Vessel, III was unable to hold back his orgasm with Vessel whispering filth in such a watery tone.

“Gimme your cum, please, please, oh shit, oh shit..!” Vessel sobbed as III groaned with one final rough snap of his hips.

The shock of Vessel’s unexpected orgasm causes III to tense up, his groan slowly turning into a loud moan as his brows knitted together in confusion. "Jesus fuck... Did you just-"

III bit back a soft whimper as he continued to fuck himself gently through his orgasm, cock kicking and spilling thick ropes of seed into Vessel. He kept the angle of his hips the same so he could focus on hitting Vessel's prostate, causing the smaller man to cry out from overstimulation.

"Oh! Goddamnit! Pleasepleaseplease!" Vessel sobbed out while gently pushing at III to try to get him to stop. His prick was weeping, drooling and still coming as III fucked him.

The redhead's abdomen tensed as his hips weakly stuttered from the clenching, quivering wet mess that was Vessel's hole. They both whimpered as III's cock gave its final desperate kick, yet neither of them moved. The soft sounds of their heavy breathing filled the room before III broke the soft atmosphere with a laugh of disbelief.

"You came fucking hands-free." He teased while rubbing his thumb gently over Vessel's softening cock.

The poor man tensed up, whining as he tried to push III away with a soft, pathetic glare. It worked and the cocky man inside of him pulled his hand away. Vessel let out a sigh of relief as exhaustion began to set deep within his bones.

"Fuck, that was so good..." The blonde mumbled as he threw his arm over his face.

III just mumbled an agreement and pulled out of Vessel's well-gaped hole. They both hissed softly as they separated, III’s cum slowly oozing out as Vessel’s hole tried to clench up.

Vessel had expected III to get up, clean himself up and then leave when he felt the man move from the bed. Yet he was pleasantly surprised to feel the other’s weight settle back on the bed.

“What are you-“ Vessel tried to speak but he cut himself off with a sharp gasp; III had gotten a fresh, clean rag to gently clean up the mess of cum oozing out of his abused hole.

The man hummed softly, eyes still focused on cleaning Vessel. “Cleaning you up, duh. Jesus, relax.”

III had stayed to clean him up? It puzzled Vessel but he decided to just accept it for what it was. The exhaustion was too much to handle anyways, leaving his mind full of questions as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

“Cute…” III spoke softly after tossing the rag to the side and laying beside Vessel.

He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him closer to his chest while looking at him. “Yeah, I think Imma- imma keep you..”

#sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token vessel #headcanon #sleep token band #sleep token headcanons #imagine #sleep token iii x vessel #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token fandom #cross posted on ao3 #sleep token smut

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rancidpancakebatter · 23 days ago

Text

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Seven

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen didn't go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 3.1k

Content Warnings: Swearing, drinking (of age)

Previous | Chapter List | Next

A/N: reader is stressed and I'm loving it, sorry :P

There’s a thick tension in the air, it brought sweat to your brow that you blamed on the already stuffy room. You felt like you were being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck now irritating to you. When you looked around, you never discovered who it was, or whether it was just your brain pushing on paranoia.

Your stomach twisted and churned as you carefully teetered between convincing yourself that you were just crazy and trying to figure out why Gwen and Peter suddenly wanted nothing to do with you and Harry– and then reminding yourself that Harry wasn’t shown any coldness, just you. And how deeply that had stung.

But your heart would mend little by little. With every bit of attention Harry gave you, and the timid passing smile you would sometimes catch from Peter across the room. He was tied to Gwen for most of the evening, but they seemed robotic. They were stiff. No one was leaning into the other. There were no soft pets or admiring the other. They barely looked at each other. It was odd.

You’re used to feeling lovesick just from looking at them. You craved the silent conversations and their affectionate touches full of care. But their actions now looked rehearsed. They lasted as long as they needed to and offered nothing more. And only Peter seemed to mind.

His face was neutral unless speaking with someone. He looked tired, but you couldn’t tell if it was from late nights or if it was the kind of tired that sleep couldn’t fix. His slouch was more pronounced as he followed Gwen around the room. His dead eyes floated aimlessly, looking at everything but seeing nothing.

Gwen held her chin high and her smile wide. She greeted everyone with brilliance and charm. But this was her night, you guess.

You couldn’t get it off your mind. All night, your thoughts and eyes wandered to them, and your heart felt heavier with all the space between you.

You would feel much better if you didn’t feel like the pair was ducking you. You had caught up to them twice now. The first time, You spotted them on the outskirts of the crowd. They talked amongst themselves, observing the room as they took a break from socializing. Harry was locked in a titillating conversation about the economic reality and accessibility of their research, but your eyes continually drifted to your friends across the room.

“You can go over if you want,” Harry whispered, having caught your stare. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

You hesitated at his side, your linked arm tensing. The idea of leaving Harry caused you to pause, as usually, separating meant you likely wouldn't catch his attention again within this hour, or the next. However, he had promised to be with you this evening and had yet to waver from his word.

He seemed to recognise your reluctance and encouraged you further, “Really, I’ll be right there. I just need you to pin those evasive weasels down.”

He chuckled at his own joke and you cracked a smile of your own before breaking away.

Peter noticed your approach first, his height making it easier to scan the crowd. You waved as your eyes met and, in turn, a wide smile spread across Peter’s face. It’s hard to say if enough data had been gathered for this conclusion, but you don’t think you’ve seen him that truly happy tonight. Regardless, the smile on your face was also record-breaking for the evening.

Timid ‘Excuse me’s fell out in soft breaths as you tried to navigate the partygoers. One thing you had learned very early on in dating Harry was that rich people (like, Wikipedia page rich) were often very rude, as they have this inflated idea of self-importance, tied solely to the thickness of their wallets. Many of them would not move out of your way if you were on fire. Instead, they would keep their feet planted as they merely watched you slide against them to get by. The act never failed to make you feel suffocated and irritated.

Once you finally breached the crowd you were a little out of breath, but no less deterred, as the promised land was finally before you.

“Hey, Guys!” You called once before your friends.

Gwen stiffened and in turn, Peter’s smile faded.

“How’s your evening going?” You tried again.

A scoff floated through the air, the blonde rolling her eyes.

“Well, it’s just great.” Her tone had a bite to it that you didn’t understand. “Everyone here keeps telling me how wonderful and brilliant I am.”

“Well,” Her eyes ripped from yours as she redirected her indignation towards the man beside her. “Almost everyone.”

Peter’s face fell towards the ground, his neck reddening so quickly you were sure the flush would swallow his cheeks in seconds. You were unsure, however, what Gwen had meant by that. Surely Peter was supportive of her work, he always was.

“I’m sure Peter is very proud of you,” You said attempting to defuse tension you couldn’t define, “I know I’m proud of Harry.”

At the mention of your boyfriend's name, you glanced behind you hoping to see him fight his way through the crowd to where you were. Instead, he was still speaking to the same man, just as animated as before you left. You hoped he was at least enjoying the conversation, but if he could over here that would be great. You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up.

“Don’t speak for him.” The words came out in a snarl, her eyes squinted in anger.

You had never seen Gwen upset like this, and your hands came up instinctually to guard yourself from the sting as your jaw dropped.

“Come on Gwen, don’t be mean.”

Peter’s head never lifted as he chided her, though hers whipped around in an instant, and you felt bad because whatever anger she had for you, she had more for him. Her cheeks flushed with it, her eyes widening under her furrowed brows. When their eyes met, you recognised that all-too-familiar psychic link they shared. A conversation happening only in looks, leaving you in the dark. However, this one looked more like a fight, so you were happy to miss out.

After a moment she scoffed again, “Un-fucking-believable.”

She stormed off and ignored you calling after her. Peter didn’t even try to stop her from leaving. He didn’t even look up, just shaking his head at the ground.

Once your shock began to wane, you asked your friend, “Is everything alright between you two?”

The tender concern in your voice convinced him to finally raise his eyes to meet yours, though his expression looked pained. He brought his glass up once, then opened his mouth to answer. When no answer came, he raised the glass again. The poor guy was a wreck for sure. He was never this quiet.

“Peter?”

Your hand gently reached across the distance between you to rest on his bicep. The act was meant to be comforting, a touch well rehearsed. But just as your fingertip grazed his sleeve, He jumped back, his drink sloshing as he tried to catch it in his mouth instead of his suit jacket. You retracted your touch quickly, holding your jilted hand to your chest.

“She’s just stressed,” He said, avoiding your gaze and much farther away now, “Big night.”

You nodded your head, not really believing him but not wanting to push it. “And how are you?”

A soft laugh left Peter’s lips, but you had missed the punchline. You waited for him to expand, but no explanation came. Instead, he took another sip of his liquor, then sucked his teeth.

“I gotta go get her.”

He didn’t sound excited as he trudged off to where she had disappeared moments ago, leaving you staring at the cityscape out of the giant window you had first found your friends gathered around.

You stood there for a while, fighting back tears as the city lights twinkled below when Harry finally did appear. You didn’t notice his approach from behind before his voice startled you.

“I told you to keep them here.” He sputtered, “Where did they run off to now?”

You appologized and told him you weren’t sure as he joined you at the window to enjoy the winter scenery.

The second time occurred about an hour later when your mingling had brought you towards the center of the room. There you found a circle of women talking animatedly and who you assumed were their adjoining men floating on the outskirts.

None of the men interacted much, they simply nodded their heads in acknowledgement, nursing their preferred poisons as they waited for their ladies to return.

Suddenly Harry was tugging on your arm, moving you around the herd. A small smile stretched across your face when you saw where he was going.

Peter stood awkwardly, trying his best not to make eye contact with anyone who looked like they might initiate a conversation, swirling his drink more to do something with his hands than to stir it. The way the golden drink glistened in the lights reminded Peter of a potion a wise witch might fix up. He tried to imagine what sagely words she would share with him and hoped if he stared harder into the spell some sort of clarity would wash over him.

He only stopped when he heard Harry call his name, looking up to see you. The gown you wore tonight was beautiful, but he was sure you looked great in any dress you wore. Or any sweater, t-shirt, or potato sack. Your smile was small but he saw the joy you held in your eyes. They shown in a different way than his drink. Your eyes were bright, blindingly so. The world fell away when he looked there, unable to see anything else. An arm fell around him and he flinched.

“Hey, Pete,” Harry greeted, “You okay? You’re jumpy.”

He tried to laugh it off, trying his best not to look your way again, knowing he had no self-control.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you? Enjoying the party?”

Peter could feel you examining him. Not much got past you, there was nothing he could hide. But he had to try. Because if you knew how truly terrible he was, if you knew all he had torn apart and how much more he wished he could destroy, you might hate him. And he wouldn’t be able to blame you.

“It would be a lot better,” Harry teased, “If my best friend was with me. Seriously man, are you hiding from me?”

Peter’s stomach fell, the guilt tearing him up inside. His mind became loud with a mess of voices, all reminding him of how selfish and pathetic he was. How utterly cruel and treacherous he had been to his friend.

“Anyway,” Harry continued, “you’re not getting away from me now.”

He brought their glasses together with a clink and made a face Peter knew well. He downed the rest of his drink with Harry, knowing that the scolding he would get for “forfeiting” would be worse than the drink. He beat Harry by a mere half a second and Harry cursed under his breath.

“Fine, rules are rules.”

Harry squeezed your shoulder as he passed you, accepting defeat as he went to the bartender. That left you with, a very awkward, Peter. His feet shuffled in place as his eyes tracked the empty glass twisting in his hands. His head was thudding in his ears as your eyes continued to burn holes into his rented tux, and his hand came up to fiddle with his tie in a failed attempt to create more air in the room. The pressure was rising the longer he stood here.

“It’s supposed to get really cold tonight.”

He didn’t acknowledge your remark, and you felt your heart seize in his silence. Your time with Peter was usually filled with easy laughter and quick-witted jabs, and you were trying to wrack your brain for why there was such a rift between you now. When did your friendship become one where you discussed the weather?

“I uh…I heard that a blizzard might be rolling in soon.” You gracelessly continued, “It’ll be a problem more so for the North– like Buffalo or whatever– but still…”

Peter offered nothing, refusing to save you from this…well you hesitate to call it a conversation. He was much too fascinated by the once-polished glass in his hands.

“But apparently it’s gonna get up to sixty on Thursday,” You cringed at yourself, but words continued to tumble out, as they often did around Peter. “Which is like…crazy right?”

“What are you talking about?”

Your back straightened, surprised by his dry tone, as you tripped around an answer.

“I was just…” You pushed past the lump of nerves in your throat, “I was trying to make conversation.”

His eyes still refused to meet yours, and he offered nothing more. You couldn’t bite your tongue any longer.

“Hey, are we-” You began, then fought through before you lost your nerve, “Are you okay?”

Peter feigned nonchalance in his returning question. “What do you mean?”

“You seem a little…off tonight.”

The nonchalance fell quickly as he now looked at you challengingly. His eyes looked red around the edges like he had been rubbing at them, but his gaze was gentle, the only familiarity you found in the man before you.

“Maybe you’re just not used to seeing me here.”

His apathy was insufferable. You couldn’t think of a single time in the four years of knowing this man that he had spoken to you with so much disinterest. You didn’t know what to do or make of it.

“I- I guess, but— I don’t know —you just seem upset about something.” You swallowed hard, the next words being exceptionally hard to force out. “Maybe something I did. And as your friend, you can tell me.”

He took a breath, his presence softening with the action. His smile tightened, his left cheek pulling into his face, and his eyes began to twinkle under the chandeliers, slowly wetting as he tried to hold together. That’s when you knew. You fought the urge to bring into your your arms then an there.

Before he could answer, your shoulder was shoved forward as someone pushed past you.

“I’m sure he will,” Gwen says coldly, appearing on Peter’s arm, “But now isn’t the time.”

The countenance on your friend's faces as they look at you makes you feel sick to your stomach. Gwen holds nothing but disdain for you as Peter’s spirit is immediately distinguished by her presence, and is replaced by a sullen look your way.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll talk—” She turns him away before you’ve finished your statement, walking off “—later.”

Tears threaten to fall from your lashline, knowing that you must have done something to them for them to treat you this way. Your friends hated you, and you knew that must be true. You feel the warmth of embarrassment and shame rise to your cheeks, the skin itching in its wake.

You feel alien standing in the middle of this crowd of merry folk, chatting and drinking through the night with smiles and laughter in the air. Your eyes are closed as you try to count through your hitching breath, willing the tears to return peacefully to your eye ducts before they fall.

When Harry returned with his punishment– A dastardly looking Ceasar Cocktail with tabasco sauce swirling around the many olives in his tall glass, that he stirred around with his celery stick, raking up the smell of clam permeating your nostrils– he was once again distressed to see Peter walking off.

“Where are they going?” He asked, taking a sip from his drink, then shuddering. “God, that’s awful.”

“They felt crowed,” You lied, “You should catch up with them while I run to the restroom.”

You didn’t wait for Harry’s response before running off, desperate to escape. You glide across the floor, your stride wide as you flee as fast as you can without actually running. There are bathrooms on this floor, but you didn’t want to risk a line or audience. Once you reached the steps, you flew, your feet scrambled as you skipped over some. Your chest began heaving and you tried to blame the exertion but you knew your desperate sprinting had nothing to do with it.

Once you reached the lobby, many workers tried to offer their assistance to you, but you waved them off, avoiding their gaze. In the security of the grand, marble-slabbed restroom, you began to cry. Your hand covered your mouth to try and muffle the noise, hoping to avoid the attention of anyone outside, as you blowing through the lobby the way did was most likely concerning enough.

You took your time, as the images of Peter’s despondence and Gwen’s enmity floated around your mind like haunting drama masks, twisting the distortions of your once familiar friends. You wracked your frazzled brain for what you could have possibly done, and tears of frustration poured as nothing came forth.

You opened your phone, suddenly paranoid that maybe you had sent a mean message to one of them by mistake. But alas, in the two days between when you last saw them and now, the only messages there– other than the few you had sent today asking when they were coming– was a thank you to the both of them (individually) for taking care of your sorry, drunk ass. Only Peter had responded to you.

From Peter: Nvr a problem for my lil heartbreaker !! Glad u got home safe

From Peter: 6438_92.img

From Peter: cu again soon :)))

You croaked as you looked at the wide, carefree smile he wore in the photo, his free hand raised above his head in half a heart– a common sign-off between you.

What had changed? What could you have done in these passing days to make them feel this way? Gwen was mad at you, you knew that much, but Peter? He seemed crushed. If you had done something to wrong Peter, it would make sense why Gwen was so cross with you. Hell, you were cross with you. Because if you had done something– and that is the only thing that makes sense– then you did it so carelessly, so brazenly, that you couldn’t even remember.

Putting a little secondary note down here to just say hello, and I'm sorry to all of you who waited so long for this (and many other) updates. I hope that the finished product is worth it, and thanks for sticking around to find out :))

Tag List: @actuallypeterparker, @athenxt, @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

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astrophileous · 1 year ago

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Love Bugs was sooo good!!! Do you think they’d let Penelope plan a baby shower with the entire team? Maybe even a sex reveal and Penelope truly trying her best to not reveal it early, the others on Garcia duty to make sure she doesn’t let anything slip LOL

WAIT HOLD ON THAT IS SUCH A CUTE CONCEPT???

and I hope you don't mind me putting my own twist to this, but you literally just reminded me of this insta reel I saw a while back of a couple who was doing a sex reveal privately on the beach with a cake, and then the wife, very innocently pulled out the candle so that the husband could cut it, not realizing the cream sticking on the candle would prematurely reveal the sex to them 😭 now I just can't stop imagining Penelope accidentally doing the same thing KAJJSJEJ IT WOULD BE HILARIOUS

btw thank you so much for reading love bugs, I'm soooo happy you liked it <3333

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You couldn't have been less inclined towards the idea the first time Penelope had brought it to your attention.

The next time she did, Penelope knew better than to come empty-handed. Thankfully for her, JJ and Emily both seemed to be partial towards Penelope's brilliant suggestion.

"I think it'll be great, (Y/N)," JJ had said. "I never did one for Henry, but I helped a girlfriend host hers once. It was fun."

"And I, personally, am always down for a party." Emily grinned.

"But a gender reveal party, guys? Seriously?"

"It'll be great, Beets. Trust me," Penelope swore. "Plus, you don't need to worry your pretty little head with anything. You just sit back, relax, and let us three do the heavy liftings."

Eventually, with the right doses of persuasion and incessant pleading, you agreed to let them throw a sex reveal party for the baby; with one condition: you wanted to keep the whole thing small and simple.

But small and simple weren't exactly Penelope's forte.

JJ and Emily tried their best to keep the tech analyst in check during the entire planning process. It was bad enough that the two of them had to take turns monitoring Penelope to make sure she wasn't stepping out of any line, but when they finally received the envelope from your doctor containing the sex of the baby, Penelope grew even worse.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Penelope yelped when Emily's voice suddenly appeared beside her. The blonde scrambled to click a few buttons on her computer screen to close the page she was looking at before Emily could see what she was doing, but it was too late.

"Wasn't that the archive of the hospital (Y/N) goes to?"

"What? No. Of course not. Why? Did you think I hacked it? That's ridiculous, why would I ever hack--"

"Garcia," Emily's stern voice cut her off. "Did you seriously just hack a hospital's records to find out the sex of (Y/N)'s baby?"

Penelope's silence was all the confirmation that Emily needed.

"It won't happen again," the tech analyst murmured shamefully.

But it did, in fact, happen again.

"Pen?" JJ's eyebrows creased when, just a few days later, she spotted Penelope sitting behind the desk in her office.

"Yes? Oh, hi! Hey, how are ya? Nothing to see here!"

Penelope offered JJ a sheepish smile, one that was intended to conceal trouble but instead spoke of one. JJ's eyes squinted.

"What's that in your hand?"

"Oh, this?" Penelope raised her right hand, showing JJ the figurine of a duck dressed as Superman that she, for some reason, was holding. "It's my new buddy. I got him at a flea market last week. Isn't he cute?"

"I meant your other hand, Pen."

JJ raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Soon enough, Penelope surrendered to JJ's stare of death--the one that she had perfected since becoming a mother--and handed the envelop into JJ's awaiting palm.

"I'm sorry," Penelope said meekly, like a child being scolded after being caught with her hand in the candy jar.

A week before the party was supposed to be held, JJ had safely dropped the cake order at the bakery, along with the sacred envelope that you had entrusted in her care. In hindsight, it looked as though everything was finally going according to plan.

Until the D-day rolled around.

As Emily held down the fort back at Derek's and your shared place, JJ and Penelope resorted to cake duty. JJ let Penelope go into the bakery to grab the cake while she stayed in the car for a quick phone call. When Penelope didn't yet reappear after five minutes, JJ decided to follow her inside to see what was holding her up.

"Hey, Pen?" JJ called to Penelope, who was standing like a deer caught in headlights in the middle of the room. In front of her, the baker was holding the box of cake with visible confusion on his face. "What's wrong?"

"She's just been standing there like that. Frozen. Like she saw a ghost," the baker informed.

"Pen?"

"The apron," Penelope whispered.

"What?"

"The apron."

"What ap--oh no."

JJ's eyes widened almost comically when she finally registered what had Penelope looking so stunned.

"Sir," JJ began, "you didn't happen to be working on this cake before we came in, did you?"

"Yeah, I did. I was just finishing it up. Filling in the buttercream and adding some final touches."

JJ sighed. "So, you're saying that the buttercream on your apron is the buttercream you used to fill in the cake?"

JJ's question prompted the baker to look down at the apron he was wearing.

More specifically, at the colored buttercream that spoiled the sex of your baby.

"We've got a situation," JJ said to Emily as soon as she and Penelope found her in your kitchen half an hour later.

"What is it?"

"Me and Pen accidentally found out about the sex."

"You what?!"

"I found out about the sex. I know the sex," Penelope murmured from where she was standing behind JJ. "I know what it is. I know what--hey, you two!"

The three women swiveled their heads towards the doorway, seeing you standing there with Derek practically gluing himself to your back.

"Hi, girls. Everything alright in here?"

"Everything is fine! Why wouldn't it be?" Penelope chuckled nervously.

A frown appeared between Derek's eyebrows. "Babygirl, you okay?"

Penelope waved him off. "I'm fanta... bulous."

"Fantabulous?" Emily whispered.

"Pretty sure it's a combination of fantastic and fabulous." JJ whispered back.

You stared at Penelope in concern. "You sure you're okay, Pen?"

"I'm fine, Beets! Splendid, even! I'm just so happy to see the three of you! God, look at that. You're all so perfect together. My Beets, Chocolate Thunder, and your beautiful baby--"

"Okay!" JJ exclaimed, cutting Penelope off before she could spill the main surprise. "We've still got a lot of work to do here, so... go, both of you."

As soon as you and Derek were out of earshot, JJ said to Penelope, "Pen, you gotta calm down."

"I can't. Oh my God, I can't calm down. It's the knowing. I hate knowing secrets, I'm not good with them."

"It's only for one more hour," Emily reasoned. "You can do this. Just... take a deep breath."

JJ and Emily somehow managed to keep Penelope from spiraling any further, long enough for them to finally commemorate the main event of the night. Your living room was crowded with beloved and very familiar faces: members of the BAU and a few friends of yours and Derek's. The speakers were blasting "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire, and you stood in front of the guests with Derek to your side when Emily and Penelope finally brought out the cake.

"Ladies and gents, we're about to witness a very important moment in history," JJ announced to the room. "In a few minutes, we'll finally find out the sex of the newest member of the (Y/L/N)-Morgan's household!"

The crowd erupted in cheers. You felt Derek give your hip a squeeze.

"Does anyone care to share their guesses?" JJ asked.

Shouts of "boy" and "girl", and a very vague shriek of "twins", all piled on top of one another. JJ quickly gestured with her hands for the crowd to calm back down.

"Without further ado, I present to you, Derek Morgan and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!"

As your guests exploded in a synchronized ovation, Derek pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "You ready, Bug?"

"As long as you are, Mr. Morgan."

You and Derek each grabbed a knife from the table, but before the blades could touch the cake, Penelope's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait, let me remove those candles for you."

"No, Penelope!"

Emily's warning came too late.

The entire room held their breaths at the sight of the candles in Penelope's hand. The tech analyst darted her eyes in confusion before she realized what she had done.

"Oh no."

"Is that--" Derek's voice sounded lost in awe.

"Yes, it is," you breathed out.

"The cream, it's--"

"I know." A humorous chuckle escaped your chest as a lone tear fell down your cheek. "It's a blue buttercream. We're having a boy."

Derek didn't waste any second before gathering you in his arms. Around you, your crowds of friends celebrated along in a sequence of hoorays and applause. But even in the midst of that ruckus, you felt like there were no other people left on this world with you other than Derek and your baby.

Your son.

"Hey, Little Man," Derek whispered as his hand landed on your belly. "I can't wait to meet you."

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peach-and-bugs · 2 years ago

Note

teen nat with “You look exhausted, you know that?” ?? (maybe pre-crash)

❤️Blame Game - Natalie Scatorccio (1996 pre-crash) x fem!Reader❤️

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

GIF by gayliennn

Summary: Natalie seeks refuge from the rain (and possibly comfort) after the death of her dad...

Warnings: canon themes: dead parents, spousal abuse, guns, general angst

Word Count: 2,539

A/N: Hello Lovelies! it's been a minute. I was so busy this past semester, but I'm now on summer break and I want to get back to work on my writing with requests for dialogue prompts with characters with Yellowjackets! here's my first dabble at writing for the fandom with pre-crash Natalie! I really hope you enjoy it, and as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading ❤️

"Nat" Natalie Scatorccio Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-❤️-

It had been raining for most of the afternoon by now, which you had found strange given the sun being so high when you'd left school. But the rain persisted into the night and you now found yourself sitting at your desk, scribbling away in your diary about your day and just general thought and feelings. You'd found that even when you had a mundane day, writing was still good. It helped keep up the habit for when you needed the outlet.

You started to run out of things to say and instead began to chew at the eraser of your pencil. One of your cassettes played quietly in your walkmen, but you could still hear the rain’s muffled tapping on the roof over the song. However, as you moved to start scribbling again, maybe adding doodles to your entry instead of more words, your attention was caught by a different tapping. It was sporadic and out of tune with the rain and it paused as though some other element controlled it.

Cautiously, you paused your song and listened. The tapping started again, clicking against the glass of your window. When there wa another pause you made your way over to it and opened it with caution. You paused again, licking your lips and biting your cheek. Why did this feel like the start of every slasher movie? Maybe youde watched those Halloween movies too many times.

“Hey, y/n! That you?” a familiar voice broke through the rain. Without any more hesitation, your head poked out of the open window, hands gripping the windowsill as the rain began to wet your hair.

“Nat?” you called in a whispery yell. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night?” thanks to your porch light you could see her fidgeting, hugging herself as she crumpled under the rain. She opened her mouth like she wanted to talk, but stopped herself.

“Can I come up?” she said instead. You hesitated again, head going back inside as you checked the time. It was nearly one in the morning by now. Your father would be furious if he found out, but it was Nat after all, it was pouring and you knew she had to have walked here. You huffed, your brows knit as you nodded, ducking your head back into the house ans shutting the window behind you before running downstairs as quietly as you could. You quietly unlocked your front door, pausing after it clicked open to listen for the sound of any unexpected movement. When nothing turned up you opened the door just as Natalie stepped onto your front porch.

“Be quiet and wipe your feet,” you insisted in a hushed voice, eyes already training on the staircase once more. You unconsciously took her hand tight and sprinted as quietly as you could up the stairs and ducked into your room, shutting it with the softest click you could mister. You shut your eyes, listening against the door for any sign you might have woken your parents, but once you felt it was all clear you relaxed with a sigh and turned back to look out on your room.

“You didn’t have to let me up if I was gonna get you in trouble,” Natalie mumbled. She’d begun to fidget where she stood, her thumb stroking over the strap of her soaked backpack. She didn’t move from where she stood and seemed to avoid making eye contact with you or anything in the room for that matter.

“It’s running outside and you’re soaked,” she shrugged, eyes turning down to her dripping shoes.

“I don't wanna put you out’s all,” your eyes transfixed on her in the quiet. She didn’t look at you for any of it but in the short time you stood awkwardly in front of you you could tell something was wrong. You knew Nat well. Well, maybe not this Natalie specifically, but you knew the Natalie from middle school who had sleepovers at your house nearly every Saturday and loved playing board games with your family and stopping for secret ice cream with you on the way home from school. That all had been some time ago, but you knew her, and even with all that she’d hanged that Natalie was still in her. You saw her right then.

“You doing ok? You seem off,” you inquired, slowly approaching her like she was a skittish dog. She looked up finally, slightly geared by the sudden proximity change, but she relaced as your reached for her fidgety hand. She let you take it, watching the tenderness in your motion. She hated being fragile.

“My dad’s gone,” she breathed, biting her lower lip. She’d been doing it for a while now. The skin of it was dry and chapped, red from repeated tearing away at the layering resulting in a swollen tenderness.

“I’m sorry. For good this time?” you weren't sure that was the right question to ask. Natalie’s dad always had a tendency to come and go, but given her demeanor either it was over or something else was going on. She sniffed heavily and let out a dry laugh as she jerked her eyes from you.

“Yeah, well seeing he put a bullet in his head I’d say it’s for good,” she pressed her lips together, sucking her teeth at the bitter sting, and exhaled hard through her nose. She swallowed hard before she shakily turned her eyes back to you. She tisked at the expression on your face and felt your hand tighten around hers. “Fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't unload on you like that I-”

“Hey, no it’s ok. It’s fine. I’m sorry,” you reached and grabbed hold of her other hand ans squeezed tight, forcing an awkward smile. “Do you want clothes to change into? You’re sopping wet,” she shook her head but you tisked.

“I'm getting you clothes ans you aren't arguing,” you turned from her and sauntered to your dresser, wrassling around in your drawers for anything comfortable for her to wear. Unbeknownst to you, Natalie was looking down at her hand, squeezing them into fists before she rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. She never liked clammy hands. You turned back to her eventually, shoving the pile of clothes in her hands. “Batheroom’s where it’s always been,” you pointed to the door that connected to your room.

“And feel free to dry off with a towel. Are you spending the night?” you rushed most of what you said, adrenaline pumping through you at an alarming rate as you tried to keep your cool. Nat eventually nodded awkwardly and made her way to the bathroom. The click of the door allowed you to let go of the hot breath that had been boiling in your stomach. Her dad was gone? Like, gone, gone. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Well, maybe not given how upset she seemed. You never would have thought of Nat to be the type to mourn her father, cruel as that may sound. And why had she come to your house of all places? She hadn’t talked to you in years. She’d gotten so committed to the soccer team that she’d moved away from you but here she was now, dropping the bomb that her dad had killed himself.

“You alright?” Nat opening the door and talking to you had pulled you out of your head. She’d dried her hair off with a towel and was now draping it over the floor to sit her bookbag on top of it to dry. Her brown hair was tousled and knotted from what you assumed had been her vigorous rubbing to dry off. She’d folded her clothes in a pile that she added next to her bookbag and stood awkwardly barefoot in a pair of old shorts and a baggy tee shirt that used to be your dad’s.

“Yeah, I'm good,” you smiled, standing again. “You want some socks? The hardwood gets cold,” you said as you actively moved to grab a pair of fuzzy socks you'd gotten for Christmas from one of your drawers. You shoved them in her hands before she could decline. She held them for a moment, unmoving despite the gentle sway of her thumb over the cotton material before leaning over to put them on. As she did that you took her clothes and draped them over the footboard of your bed to air out.

“Are you staying over?” you asked again. You knew if she said no you'd still keep her here. You didn't want to worry about her out in the rain again.

“Only if that's alright,” you smiled with a single nod.

“Of course. It can be like before,” you chuckled, turning to adjust things on your bed. You might have caught the tiny flicker in Nat’s lips had you been looking. But you hadn’t and climbed into bed instead, shimmying under the covers to get comfortable. Nat slowly followed but lay on her back over the blankets, folding her hands on her chest. You only watched her for some time, not knowing what subject to broach, if any at all.

“You look exhausted, you know that?” you eventually murmured. Nat turned her head to you and let out a warm sigh. Her eyes seemed sunken, bags growing dark under them. You wondered how much she’d been sleeping.

“That kinda happens when-” she stopped herself abruptly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No…” her voice lulled to a whisper as she paused. That pause felt like it lasted hours till she sniffled. “Maybe a little,” she swallowed thickly. You scooted in closer to her, reaching your hand out t her ever so lightly to wordlessly offer it to you.

“It was my fault,” you shook your head.

“Nat. you’re seventeen,” she sniffled loudly and quickly dried her tears just as they fell from her eyes. She didn’t look at you, her eyes transfixed up at your ceiling in a feeble attempt to keep herself together.

“I grabbed the gun. He wouldn't have had it had I not,”

“It’s not your fault,”

“He was beating on my mom again because I had a boy in my room,” frustrated disdain filled her tone. “And it’s not like anything was happening! I mean, it was just Kevyn,” she scoffed at his name. Unbeknownst to Natalie, you knew the boy had the biggest crush on her known to man. How she didn’t realize it baffled you, but that wasn’t relevant at the moment.

“But I grabbed the gun. And I left the safety on and he took it from me and fucked around with it,”

“Natalie,” you kept your voice low. Her breathing had started to flair as she fully cried now. You took her hand, squeezing it tight. She didn’t look at you but unconsciously clenched both her fists around your fingers, and brought them to her chest, pressing it tight to her in some kind of attempt to ground yourself maybe. “Natalie, Who had the gun?” she managed to get out. She sniffled again. She would have called it pitiful, but you basked in the sound. Not in a weird way, but because she could trust you with this. She shook her head.

“Did you shoot him?” her breath shook as she took a deep inhale.

“He did,”

“So, who’s fault it that?” she turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut as she covered her mouth to suppress a sob. She let go of your hand and turned onto her side, leaving only her heaving shoulders in your view. You scooted out of bed, moving slowly behind her. She flinched as your fingertips made contact with her back, but you found she quickly relaxed under her touch as you began rubbing your hand in circles over the surface area.

“Nat, it was his fault,” you murmured. She continued to cry, curled into a ball on the edge of your bed. You weren't even sure if she was hearing any of what you said, but you didn’t feel you should prioritize that. You stayed that way with her for a while, till you maneuvered onto your side, laying behind her and wrapping your arm around her instead of continuing to massage your back. You felt her take your hand again, bringing your fingers close to her face. She seemed to bury her face in your hand in some feeble attempt at self-soothing.

Eventually, she turned around in your arms and found herself up close and personal with you. Thanks to the dim light she prayed you wouldn't see the red in her cheeks burning from the sudden proximity. She let go of your hand quite abruptly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, eyes darting away. You only smiled and nodded, scanning her puffy, tear-streaked face. Without giving it much thought, you reached forward, brushing loose, now dry hair from her face. Your fingertips skimmed over her forehead with a delicateness Nat couldn't find herself familiar with.

“You look exhausted, you know that?” she shrugged but locked into your gaze.

“I’ve always been like that,” she forced a chuckle but found you frowning. You thumbed away leftover tears from her eyes ans found your hand lingering. When you noticed you made the motion of pulling away from her but she grabbed your hand, holding it where it was. She bit her bottom lip, her brows knitting with overwhelming consideration till she hissed out the words “fuck it” and leaned it.

She’d let go of your hand in exchange for the back of your neck, which fit quite comfortably against the flat of her palm. She’d shut her eyes hard and had kind of clumsily crashed into you, definitely taking you by surprise. For a second it was quite startling, but you didn’t panic or pull away. But once you got over the shock, you relaxed into her, smiling against her lips, which given their chapped nature left a metallic taste against your tongue.

You’re hand, which had been hovering above the covers after being abandoned slowly settled on Natalie’s hip as you shut your eyes and you felt her exhale through her nose as the air flittered against your cheek. Yet, just as fast as she’d moved in she was done, leaving your lips to chase after her. Her eyes were wide and blown when you opened yours again and she seemed to have a grimace on her face.

“Shit, was I that bad?” you sucked in a breath through your teeth. Her grimace subsided and she shook her head, now looking confused.

“No. I was more so waiting for you to be pissed with me,” she admitted. You smiled and laughed quietly.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I dunno, I kinda just did it and I didn’t ask-”

“Didn’t ask if I liked girls?”

“Do you?” she chuckled again, scooting closer to her.

I dunno, I might. I mean, I might at least like one girl,”

“That's so fucking corny,” Natalie finally smiled, letting go of a laugh in her throat.

“Yeah, but I got you to smile finally,” you squeezed her hip. “I consider that a win in my book,”

#fanfiction requests #fic request #◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets requests #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #natalie scatorccio #nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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carmyberzattosjournal · 4 months ago

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Entry 4: Apple Leaf Adagio

Bearblr Promptober Day 3: Apple Picking

Summary: In which Carmen reflects on the time you took him apple picking. Cute fluff.

Warnings: Nothing major, mentions of anxiety, swearing, written with fem reader who is a trauma surgeon (nothing gross described) in mind, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Reblogs appreciated. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

03 Oct 2024

Sound stupid, but I went apple picking with my girlfriend today.

It’s something she used to do with her grandmother when she was a kid. There’s this orchard out in Boone County—Edward’s, I think? I can’t fucking remember. Anyway, it’s this cute little orchard, family-owned. Had, quite frankly, amazing apple cider donuts. These rows and rows of apple trees. We went first thing in the morning, when a lot of kids and families wouldn’t be around to overwhelm me. Felt strange leaving the restaurant partway through prep, but I need a break from the constant stress of it all before I become a problem for everyone else. I hate admitting that Syd was right about that, but she is. Again.

Anyway, it had rows and rows of apple trees, and so we picked a random one and just walked through it. They had decent selections but nothing that particularly caught my eye for a good tart or something to pair with duck (Tina was saying something about pairing the duck with an apple glaze) this early in the season. Seasonal menu changes are up in two weeks, and I got nothing substantial, it’s driving me nuts. Honestly felt like a waste of time. She reminded me that we were there to take a break. It wasn’t until I saw that her apple basket had that one with the green heart on it that I’d looked at several trees back that I realized she’d just been picking all the ones I found interesting.

It was sweet.

God, I love her so much.

She told me to focus on the sound of wind rustling the leaves. That I’d have other thoughts intrude, but to keep directing my attention back to the sound of the leaves. I asked her why, and she said that when things got crazy in the trauma bay, when she felt like too many things were happening all at once, when all the monitors were going off and the nurses were shouting and family members were being assholes and patient number 6 of the night came in looking more dead than alive, when her hands shook and she felt like she was going to puke, she found the sound of the ventilation system and focused on it while in the OR. Kept her from exploding.

I didn’t know if it was going to help me, but going to the orchard didn’t feel like a waste for the rest of the time we were there. The leaves, they made this soft sound in waves—maybe it was the wind pattern that day or I just never noticed it before—but they would whoosh loudly, then go quiet, then pick up volume, then trail off again. I could almost sway back and forth to it. A soothing hum that found permanent residence in my memory bank. During service, when the line started drifting behind, I tried to find it again, tried to conjure the adagio of the apple leaves. It didn’t return, but I kept thinking about it. And when I was thinking about walking through the trees with her, I’d blink, and 7 tickets would’ve gone by, and I wouldn’t’ve exploded. And then I’d feel my heart in my throat because the line was now 3 minutes behind, but then I could picture her smile as she held up another apple, the way the sun glittered in her eyes, almost hear the hum-dum-hum-dum of the leaves—and another 9 tickets would go by. 4 minutes behind. Still no explosion.

That’s something, right?

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy x fem!reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fluff

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cybrpwup · 2 years ago

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ᴄᴀᴋᴇ || ʙɪɢᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tanner x f!reader

Warnings: cake murder, language, minor (Non-Graphic) Injury. summary: Tanner and Y/n make a cake requested?: yes !

Tanner had roped Y/n into one of his stream ideas. A simple concept, but with Tanner it could only be anything but simple. Tanner had roped Y/n into one of his stream ideas. A simple concept, but with Tanner it could only be anything but simple.

They were tasked to bake cakes without instructions, and while Y/n had some idea of what she was doing, Tanner was completely lost.

To his left was Y/N ducked into the refrigerator. She pushed things around on the top shelf before landing her hand on a carton of eggs. Taking them out, she sat them on the counter next to a mixing bowl. She turned her back to Tanner but not before flashing him a smile.

Y/n had continued to gathering her ingredients, stopping when Tanner pushed a piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear. She coughed and mumbled a thank you before going to work.

He couldn’t help but watch as Y/N cracked eggs into the mixing bowl with one hand and tossed the shells into the kitchen bin. She stood, her feet set like an arrow, with her toes touching

She placed a bag of flour down and stirred the contents of the mixing bowl with a fork and a quick hand. Her head was down focused on what she was doing; a little wrinkle formed between her eyebrows.

Her eyes were distant, focused on the task at hand. Leaving the batter to sit, she crossed the kitchen and pulled open a drawer of miscellaneous utensils. While she searched for what she wanted, the fingers of her non-dominate hand drummed a rhythm against her hip.

His silence caught Y/N's full attention. She pulled her focus up, from her search in the utensil drawer to Tanner’s face. Her hesitant gaze stopped at his mouth and nose before going further up.

Their eyes met. Tanner felt a surge of warmth rushing upon him: a warmth he could lie in forever. Die in. So even his bones might one afternoon be exposed to it. It was clear at that moment (as if it was not before) that being around Y/N was not something Tanner knew how to handle or react to.

“Tanner, you actually have to do something” She said

“I don’t wanna make you insecure with my baking.” He huffed, making her giggle

“Mhm”

“You know I’m a baker…” he said, hitting her hip and making her do the same, before throwing some flour at the boy to which he laughed, shaking his hair and sending flour everywhere. He brought his hand up, messing with his hair.

“You, uh, missed a spot." She bit her lip, stifling a laugh as he tried to find it.

“Let me.." She held his chin, pulling his head down so she could reach his hair, ruffling out the flour he missed. "All good!" She removed her hands slowly as he stood up straight again.

Not even halfway through the stream, Tanner had completely given up on his cake and was just throwing various things into his cake batter while Y/n was genuinely trying “Tanner… what is that..?” She held a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening at his concoction, “are you making a cake or a potion?”

“Well, y’know.. if this cake doesn’t turn out..” he gave a knowing look as his eyes shifted from the camera to Y/n

She didn’t understand the joke at first, giving the male a confused look.

When it finally clicked in her brain, it was obvious in her facial expression, a slight blush tinting her face “Tanner! You can’t say that” she squealed.

“I just meant I’d take yours, jeez, Y/n, you have a dirty mind” He said as he proceeded to pull ranch seemingly out of nowhere and adding it to his ‘batter ‘

She stuck her tongue out, scrunching her nose up, “You’re eating that when it’s done”

“We never agreed on that. I’ll just feed it to Nick or something.” He chuckled.

“Alright, love” She shook her head, dipping a finger into her batter and tapping his nose with a giggle.

Now flour and batter covered Tanner yelled, “Hey!” scooping up his own batter causing her to instantly back away “you’re not touching me with that”

He slowly approached her, holding his hands out in front of, backing her out of the kitchen until he began chasing after her

“If you fucking touch me i’m going to break up with you right fucking now, Tanner, I swear!!” She threatened, screaming through the house.

“Tanner , I don’t think that’s gonna rise at all” Y/n winced as he slid his cake into the oven “I added a lot of baking powder, i’m pretty confident it’ll turn out” That made her let out an emphasized laugh

Grabbing the oven handle, Y/N slipped her cake in, when she stumbled and the door flew shut, shutting on her hand "Ow! Shit."

She raced to the sink: turning it on to its coldest setting: she kept her hurt hand at a distance. Her free hand grasped her inner elbow supporting the extended arm. As the water bathed her burnt fingers, Y/N stood bent over with her head tucked under her arms and muttered a string of curses.

"Fuck. Are you alright?" Tanner rushed around the counter.

"Y-yea. Yes." She was stuttering through distressed gasps.

"Y/n, it's not great." Tanner laid a hand on her shoulder and another over her free hand on her arm. He felt her continuing to struggle for breath and start a self-soothing type rocking on her feet – not about to give in to the panic. "It’s not great, but you got to calm down. Follow me."

He pulled his lips in and inhaled a slow breath as if through a straw, exhaling it just the same. It took ten seconds of him doing the exercise on his own before Y/N began to follow.

And it was them like that.

And it was nice – given the circumstances.

Both their shirts were damp from the splashback of the running sink.

Half a minute passed. Y/N had not gained her complete composure, but her breathing evened out, and her muscles relaxed enough that Tanner had to reposition himself to support her as she leaned into him.

"Thank you." It was audible, though her chin was still tucked to her chest.

"It's alright...I can't cook either."

She laughed a short laugh. "You were lying earlier?"

"I know, pretty believable."

Given the cake enough time to cook, Y/n returned to the kitchen and checked the oven “Tanner?”

“Yeees”

“Where is my cake?” She asked, slowly turning to him

“uhh. . .” he lifted up her ‘cake’, if you could call it that, which was just a mess.

She stared down at her cake, her jaw fell open - the cake looked to have been dropped and then attempted to have been glued together with icing - before moving her gaze up at him “YOU RUINED MY PERFECTLY GOOD CAKE?”

She stood frozen and he pulled her into his chest, laughing all the while as she fake cried

“My cake is still intact” He pointed to his cake which she couldn’t even see due to her face being hidden in his chest

“If you can even call it a cake” she sobbed.

Hitting her fist against his chest, she mumbled, “I can’t believe you.”

#bigtstreamingservice #Bigt x reader #Tanner x reader #the group chat x reader #the group chat #the group chat podcast #the groupchat #tgc x reader #tgc #big t x reader #isaacwhy #softwilly #isaacwhy x reader #softwilly x reader

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megs-98 · 1 month ago

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Merry Midwinter

Didn't have any motivation on the other days of @lady-sapphyre 's Galemas prompts so here's days 4 - 7 lmaoo it is in fact gale smut

Tara nuzzled her face against the woman with a purr, “Now you know that’s not true, dear. And he is absolutely beside himself over your admission.” Mara grimaced when she heard Tara’s words. “I believe you both know it would be more beneficial for the two of you to be together rather than apart right now. Off you go, back to bed. In your actual bed.” She said as she headbutted Mara’s shoulder. Mara gave the tressym a pet before she got up. She caught a glimpse of Tara as she kneaded Mara’s pillow and laid down on top of her blanket.

A/N: liked stated above, this is galemas days 4-7 all wrapped up together, also my first gale smut in almost a year. i honestly forgot how much fun these are to write. also, i didn't skip day 3, i did a little sketch for it. it's on sky if you want to see

Pairing: Gale x f!named Tav/ Mara

Characters: Tara, mention of Morena Dekarios

Tags: mild hurt/comfort, explicit, MDNI, m and f oral receiving, kissing, vaginal fingering, make up sex, mating press, praise kink, nothing better than having sex all night and into christmas morning

Word count: 3.9k

Gale sat at his desk; he held his forehead in his hand as he stared absentmindedly at the scrolls on his desk. He had wanted to get a head start on preparing class lessons but the day had not been as fruitful as he had hoped. He and his bride-to-be, Mara, had an argument that morning after they realized they had been snowed in. Mara had been rather determined to make it out to the market; she wanted to find another Midwinter gift for each member of the Dekarios clan. Gale told her it wasn’t necessary, they had each other's company. They didn’t need things to make their Midwinter celebration special.

“I know material things aren’t what makes the holiday special, I just want to do something nice for everyone. I also thought we could take the time to check on Morena.” Mara said as she put on a sweater that Gale’s mother had gifted her.

“Please, my love, do not use my mother as leverage against me.” Gale responded with a chuckle.

However, when he turned around, he was met with a scowl from Mara, who promptly walked away without another word to the wizard. He had soon heard her rummage through the kitchen as she busied herself. He was confused as to why his words had upset her, but continued to get ready for the day. After he was dressed, he made his way to the kitchen. Mara stood in front of the sink as she washed dishes. Gale stood next to her as he tried to grab a dish from her, but she easily avoided his hands and put the dish in the drying rack. He furrowed his brow but assumed that she didn’t see him. He then leaned close and tried to give her a kiss on the cheek, just as he so often did, but Mara avoided his action again as she ducked her head away from him.

He scoffed at her, “What have I done to so greatly offend you?”

“Dunno, maybe you’ll think it’s ‘leverage against you’ or not.” Mara chided at him as she rolled her eyes.

Gale cringed as he thought of the rest of their argument. He always prided himself on being attentive to Mara’s.. everything. When her mood was off, if she didn’t feel well, how she acted when she was at her highest or lowest. He had cursed himself all day for not realizing the effect his words had had on his love. After Tara had scolded him for upsetting ‘Mrs. Dekarios’, Gale had decided to give her space for the day, to let her approach him in her own time. He had begun to think that this was also a bad idea though; Mara hadn’t approached him once the entire day and left them both in only Tara’s brief company throughout the day.

He had finally been pulled out of his stupor when he heard thudding against the ground come from somewhere in the tower. He looked out his study windows to see that it had begun to snow again; and that it was now dark, the snow illuminated by the glow of the full moon. Gale sighed as he lifted himself away from his desk and started the trek down the stairs. He was met with Mara in the living room as she added more logs to the wood rack next to the fireplace before she poked and prodded at the fire to revive it. He watched as she settled herself on the couch and draped a blanket over herself in an attempt to warm up as she was only in an oversized sleep shirt. That was when Gale realized that Mara had one of her pillows from their shared bed on the couch with her. He came in the room and stood on the side of the couch Mara leant against. He hesitated before he placed a hand on her shoulder, relieved that she didn’t recoil from his touch.

“Dearest, I know we have been at.. odds of sorts today, but I thought we could get some sleep together. It is Midwinter Eve, afterall.” Gale sighed.

He watched as Mara shook her head and carded her fingers through her hair. She thought about her words carefully before she turned slightly and grabbed his hand in hers.

“Sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean to be hurtful this morning. And I will admit, I should have told you that sooner, but every time I went into your study to tell you, all I could think of was our argument and I got angry all over again.” She squeezed his hand a little tighter as she finally made eye contact with him, “I love you very much Gale but I still need a little more time, you really hurt my feelings with the whole ‘leverage’ thing.” she lamented.

Gale felt his heart break at her words. This was something he never wanted to make Mara feel, yet here he was; he had done exactly that. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, grovel at her feet, do anything and everything she asked to win her favor back. However, he conceded as he brought his hand to her cheek and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“As you wish, my angel. Please remember that our door is open if you wish to come to bed later.” He offered.

Mara pressed a kiss to his palm and thanked him, a somber smile formed on her lips.

The two laid in their isolation, hopeful that sleep would take them so they didn’t have to sit with their emotions. Sleep never came for either of them, though. Both tossed, turned, and wished the other were with them. Mara sat up on the couch to watch the fire as she tried to decide if she should go up to her and Gale’s bedroom or not.

“He loves you, Mrs. Dekarios.” Tara’s words flitted into Mara’s ear from beside her. Mara jumped and turned her head to see the tressym perched on the back of the couch next to her.

She sighed, “I know, Tara, and I don’t doubt it. I just didn’t think he would ever talk to me like that. It reminded me of everyone who’s ever talked down to me, like I was some bumbling idiot who was only good at killing things in the ‘name’ of Illmater.” There was a tremble in Mara’s voice.

Mara slowly made her up the stairs as worry ran through her body. She was worried that Gale would be too upset with her to accept her apology. That the way she acted throughout the day would cause Gale to rethink their relationship. She was pulled out of her thoughts once she approached their door; it was opened slightly and she noticed a faint purple glow come from inside. She looked through the opening, only to see a bittersweet moment. She saw Gale sitting on her side of the bed, in just his sleep pants, with his hand outstretched in front of him, holding a projection of Mara’s visage. He stared at it longingly as if Mara weren’t in the same tower as him. She made her way into the room slowly in an attempt not to disturb him. Gale hadn’t noticed her as he continued to look at the projection he had conjured.

As she moved closer to the bed, Mara cleared her throat and said his name quietly. Gale met Mara’s avoidant gaze with a reserved look, almost as if he thought his mind had played a trick on him. He stood up and walked over to her and grabbed Mara’s hand tentatively. Mara laced her fingers between his and she noticed as Gale let out a sigh of relief before he pulled her into a tight embrace. He buried his face in her neck and took in a long, deep breath as he focused on her smell; traces of oak and parchment, cedar, her lingering crisp and delicate floral perfume that she wore every day, all mixed together with her own natural pheromones. His body relaxed as he finally released his breath. Mara held on to him as if he were going to fall into the earth at any moment.

“I’m so sorry, Gale.” bewailed Mara, her lips had started to quiver.

“Hush, now, my love. It is I who must apologize to you.” He had lifted his head, his gaze met her teary one. “I used a terrible joke at an inappropriate time and then left you alone all day because of my own anxieties and for that I am truly sorry. None of that is your fault and I only hope that you’ll let me make this up to you in any way.” He continued as he tucked a strand of hair behind her elongated ear. He felt the shiver that ran through her body when his dextrous fingers grazed the shell of her ear.

Mara weakly smiled at him, “You don’t have to do anything to make it up to me. I should be the one making it up to you.” She reluctantly untangled herself from Gale’s arms and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bed.

Gale didn’t resist as he followed her lead. “There is nothing that would make me happier than laying in bed with you in my arms.”

They both climbed into their bed and laid together, Mara across Gale’s chest as he held her tight. They laid there like that for a while, unable to find sleep. He rubbed his hand down Mara’s back as he changed between firm, massage-like swipes and feather light touches over any exposed skin he could find. Gale relished in the breathy moans Mara let out when he caressed her, desperate for more after she was away from him the entire day. He wearily grabbed the hem of her shirt and moved it up her body. Mara understood what he was doing and sat up to easily take off her shirt.

Gale placed a hand on her waist, “Stay like that for a moment, please. I want to admire you.” He ran his thumb across her skin slowly as his eyes roved over her figure. Mara held his forearm as she felt his hand roam up her side, as he barely grazed the side of her breast. She sucked in a shallow breath, eager for more of his touch. She noticed as Gale smirked at her reaction and purposefully kept his hand on the larger expanses of her skin. Mara knew that Gale loved to tease her mercilessly, and on any other day she would have loved it too. Not this night, though, no. She wanted him too much to let that happen.

Mara waited for Gale to bring his hand away from her body again before she grabbed his hand. She slotted her fingers between his and kissed his knuckles. The mischievous look on Gale’s face softened as he watched Mara do this. All he thought about was how lucky he was to have such a loving and caring woman by his side. Mara watched as Gale’s lusty gaze changed to dreamy one as he watched her. She leant down and placed a passionate kiss against his lips and happily swallowed his moans. As she continued to kiss him, his hand still in hers, she placed her free hand on his chest. She lightly pushed him down as she swung her leg over his body and settled herself on top of him, her lips still connected to his. The moment he felt her weight against him, on top of him, he let out a low moan that she felt in his chest.

Mara moaned in response to Gale’s; she reveled in the effect she had over him. She finally pulled her lips away from his as she kissed along his jaw and down his neck. She continued her descent down his body slowly as she took the time to nip and suck on his skin as often as she could. Once she had freed her hand from Gale’s, she used that hand to palm Gale’s cock through his pants. He groaned at the friction and she felt as Gale’s hands left her sides and he tried to pick up his hips in an attempt to get his pants off. Mara took herself off of Gale and settled herself between his thighs. She watched as he took his pants off and kicked them off into their bedroom somewhere, watched as the muscles in his stomach tightened just by looking at her between his legs. She ran her hands along his thighs as slowly as she could before she took his cock in her hand and admired how Gale threw his head back further into his pillow as he felt her warm skin touch his. Mara stroked him a few times before she bent down and gave a wide swipe of her tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the tip. One of Gale’s hands flew to her hair as she did it again and swirled her tongue around the tip to collect the precum that emanated from him. She took him in her mouth just as he was about to say something and caused him to gasp at the feel of her. After she bobbed her head up and down a few times, she released him from her mouth, much to his dismay, and looked at him with her gaze that often beguiled him.

“You doing okay?” She asked with a sultry tone.

Gale struggled to slow his breathing down, “Marvelous, darling. Don’t… please.. Don’t stop.” He panted.

Mara smiled and pressed a searing kiss to hip before she took him in her mouth again. She continued to take as much of him as she could as deep as she could. She used her hand to stroke what she couldn’t take. Mara could hear a spew of curses that streamed from Gale before he started to chant her name like a prayer. She hollowed his cheeks when she heard this, desperate to pleasure him and hear him cry her name as he orgasmed. Gale knew he wouldn’t last much longer if she kept up the pace and he was just as desperate to pleasure her, to feel and taste her cunt. He was too far gone to be able to form sentences; he used the hand that was in her hair to dig deeper into her thick, luscious hair and gave it one good, hard pull to make her stop for a moment.

Gale heard Mara grunt in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she took herself off of him. He immediately rubbed that spot where he pulled in an attempt to soothe it as he caught his breath.

“Apologizes, love. I was close but couldn’t find the words to tell you to stop.” Gale said as he sat up in front of her.

“I do love having that effect on you.” Mara hummed as she leaned into Gale.

He was quick to capture her lips against his as he gave her a hungry kiss. She moaned at his fervor and attempted to straddle him again. He pushed against her hips to keep her on the bed and pulled his lips away.

“As much as I want you on top of me again, I fear it would be ungentlemanly of me to leave you wanting.” He guided her to lay down where he had been.

“We both know that won’t happen, love. Believe me, you take excellent care of me.” She didn’t resist the change in placement.

He smirked at her sentiment as he straddled her and peppered kisses down her throat. He stopped at her pulse point and sucked her skin into his mouth; he knew it definitely bruised her, and he was excited to admire it later. He made his way down her body much faster than she had descended his. His eagerness to have his lips on her breasts was evident. He kissed his way down the valley of her chest and across one of her breasts before he took her nipple in his mouth. Mara let out a sharp moan as she tangled her hand in his hair and tried to pull him closer into her. She felt as Gale moved himself to one side of her; as she was about to question what he was doing, she felt his fingers curl around the waistband of her underwear. Mara instinctively lifted her hips for Gale to take them off. Gale moaned into her as he slid a finger through her folds and felt how wet she already was. He positioned himself between her thighs and marveled at the sight of her splayed out for him. He watched as her breasts heaved as she panted with want. Want for him. Gale wasted no time in getting his mouth on the apex of her thighs. They moaned in unison as he swiped his tongue through her folds and flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue. He latched his mouth around her sensitive bud and let out a guttural moan as he felt Mara’s thighs clench around his head. She let out a high pitched moan as he sucked on her clit. Her hand found the back of his head again and she wantonly moaned as she felt one of his fingers glide through her folds again.

Gale reluctantly pulled his mouth off Mara, though he didn’t move it far from her before he asked, “How many fingers, angel?”, Mara whined at the question.

“Aht, aht. Use your words.”, he encouraged.

“Two… two fingers. Gale, please.” She whined in response.

“There’s my good girl.” His praise caused Mara to moan as she waited for him to touch her again. He placed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and bit at her skin when he did.

He slowly slid his fingers into her; he hissed at how tight she felt around him. Gale watched as Mara moaned and arched her back off the bed. He continued to slowly stretch her out and watched as her face contorted with pleasure. As much as Mara loved how much attention and care he gave her, she soon begged him for more. He obliged as he latched his lips around her clit again and fucked her with his fingers faster. He felt as Mara bucked her hips into his hand and mouth, how she clenched around him, ready to cum already. He removed his lips from around her clit and rested his head against her thigh. He wanted to watch her face as he curled his fingers inside of her and hit the spot she loved so much. Mara raised her brows in pleasure as she felt him press against the sensitive spot only he knew how to get to. A slew of curses came from her as she ground her hips into Gale, desperate for the orgasm she neared. Gale kept a fast pace as he wanted her to finish quickly. He could admit he wanted to have his cock buried deep within her, to feel her cum around him, but he wasn’t selfish enough to do that without making her cum on his fingers first.

He continued his praise to Mara, desperate to feel her clench around his fingers as she orgasmed.

“Please, Mara, Please.. Let me feel you cum around my fingers.” Gale practically pleaded as he watched her come undone.

That was all she needed to send her over the edge. Mara moaned his name loudly as she arched her back off the mattress and saw stars from the intense climax Gale gave her. She laid there, a sweaty mess, as she watched Gale sit up on his knees and bring the fingers he used to fuck her to his mouth. She watched as he sucked her cum off his fingers and moaned as he did. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him to her as she met him in a passionate kiss, able to taste herself on his tongue.

He used his body to push her back against the mattress. He sat back up and grabbed the back of her thighs and pushed them back towards her head to bring her hips up. Gale lined himself up with Mara and pushed himself in; he let out a husky moan as he bottomed out easily and stilled himself for a moment to steel his nerves. Mara writhed underneath him and begged him to move. He was more than happy to do so as he set a punishing pace and put his chest on the back of Mara’s thighs as he fucked her.

They both knew they wouldn’t last long like this; Gale had been close to cumming since Mara had given him a blowjob and the overstimulation was too much for Mara. Tears pricked her eyes as she felt the stretch of her muscles, the subtle stretch of her cunt, Gale’s weight on her; she was about to cum again. Gale knew this too, he could feel her cunt tighten around him, which caused him to groan in pleasure.

He grabbed her hand as he fucked into her. “I need to feel you cum around me, angel. Please. I need to feel you cum around me again.” He begged. “You look so beautiful when you’re fucked out on my cock.”

“Fuckin’ hells, Gale, don’t stop.” Mara moaned as she squeezed his hand tight.

He continued his pace as he quickly approached his own orgasm until he felt Mara clench around him as she came with a scream of his name. It was too much for him and he buried himself deep within her as he came. He slowly dropped Mara’s legs, which she kept wrapped around him. Neither of them were ready to be separated. They laid tangled together for a few minutes before Gale slowly pulled himself out Mara; a hiss escaped him from the overstimulation and she whined at the loss of him. He clambered out of bed and disappeared into their ensuite for a moment but quickly returned with a warm, wet rag. He delicately cleaned Mara up and watched as her body jerked every time he touched her sensitive clit.

Once Gale had sufficiently cleaned Mara up, he laid down next to her and pulled her flush with his body. He peppered kisses along the crown of her head as she tightly wrapped her arms around him. She felt as he moved a hand off of her and muttered something under his breath. She looked up at him to see that he had conjured a mistletoe above them with a cheeky smile.

“Happy Midwinter, my love. You’re the best gift I could have ever received.” he whispered to her.

Mara smiled as she groaned at his corny, but romantic, gesture. She placed a kiss on his lips and she said, “Happy Midwinter, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They cuddled into each other as much as they could as the early Midwinter morning sun glinted off the freshly fallen snow and into their window.

#fanfic #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale x tav #weavefallen #gale x oc #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3

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newtonsheffield · 2 years ago

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Hi Molly, I know you've given us a LOT this weekend already, and honestly you deserve a break. but if you are planning on doing a spicy sunday, can we see our taylor swift loving elder siblings' first date and then some?

Oh Lordy.

Here we go

Kate genuinely hadn’t thought he would call. She really hadn’t. They’d filed out of the stadium, Anthony’s sister on his hip, falling asleep on his shoulder and he’d smiled at her.

“I um- I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

He’d ducked his head, and his smile had been so adorable, “We’ll get something to drink or maybe… if you eat dinner?”

“I eat dinner sometimes, yeah.” She’d shrugged, trying not to let her stomach swoop.

“Cool, right. I better get these ones home.”

“It was nice to meet you, Anthony.”

She’d woken this morning with her throat a little scratchy to the sound of her phone ringing. She picked it up, not really paying attention

“Kate, we need to talk!”

“Dad?” She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Is everything okay? It’s really early.”

“I don’t know!” He squawked, “Are you okay?!”

“Um… I’m fine, the concert was really cool.”

“Did your fiancé enjoy it?”

Kate’s stomach dropped, “Fucking Edwina.”

“How could you not tell me you were seeing someone this seriously?!”

“Dad, I dropped my bracelet. He didn’t propose to me.” Kate rolled her eyes, scratching Newton behind the ears as she stood from the bed.

“Then why did you kiss hi?!”

Kate froze, “I didn’t realise the video you saw went that far.”

“Kate!”

She rolled her eyes, “Dad, it was literally just a kiss. We got carried away. I’m never going to see that guy again.”

“Well I-”

“Katie.” Mary’s voice sighed, cutting off her dad. “I’ll manage Dad’s panic attack, I’m glad you had fun, sweetheart.”

A beep sounded in Kate’s ear and she sighed, “Mumma some else is trying to call me, tell Dad I’ll see him tomorrow.”

Kate sighed, frowning a little at the unknown number before she picked it up. “Hey, this is Kate.”

“Kate, Hi.”

She recognised the voice from last night, soft and warm like his hands gently cupping her cheeks had been. “Oh.”

“It’s um… it’s Anthony.” He cleared his throat, “ We um… we sat next to one another at Wembley last night?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Kate chuckled, unable to resist the urge to tease him.

“Oh, um… you and I… we kissed?”

“Eh, you might have to be more specific again.”

“Oh! Well, I’ve got dark hair. And-”

“Anthony I’m fucking with you.” Kate sighed, her heart fluttering in her chest, “I remember the kiss. You are a very tender kisser.”

“I’m tender when I do a lot of things.” Anthony breathed, his voice deepening, “I want to take you out tonight.”

“I actually… don’t know if I’m going to eat dinner tonight.”

“That’s okay.” Anthony clicked his tongue, “I’m opening to eating a lot of things besides food if you’re willing.”

The wind had been knocked out of her lungs, “Jesus fucking- Where do you want to meet?”

She should have felt more nervous. She had in the cab on the way to the restaurant. And she had when she’d waited nervously outside until Anthony’s head had popped out of the restaurant.

“Sorry! I already grabbed our table, I’m a bit of an early bird.”

He smelled lightly of cologne when he kissed her cheek and her cheeks burned as he showed her through the restaurant, his eyes dancing at her.

“You are really beautiful. I don’t think I said that last night I just… you caught me by surprise is all.”

Kate nodded as she sat down across from him and awkwardness swelled between the for a moment before she sighed, “Sorry, this is really awkward.”

“Eh, doesn’t have to be. We’ll order drinks first and if you hate to you can go.”

They’d ordered drinks and fallen into conversation oddly naturally until his phone rang and his face fell as he excused himself, hissing into the phone.

“Well I’ll never get the chance to marry her if you don’t hang up the phone mum!”

Ridiculous laughter bubbled in her chest as he hung up, his cheeks flushed and when the waiter came over she took a menu and watched Anthonys boulders relax.

Anthony walked her to the front of her building when the waiter had nudged them out ours later and his jacket was draped over her shoulders something awkward between them.

“I um… I don’t want you to think I… expect anything from this.” He cleared his throat. “I… just… I had a good time and I like you and-”

“Technically half the internet thinks we’re getting married.”

“True.” Anthony clicked his tongue. “That being said… Maybe we should…”

“Wait to sleep together?”

His body moved closer to hers and she felt her hand twist in the front of his shirt even as he nodded, “Yeah we should… we should wait.”

“So we’re waiting.” Kate had felt breathless as she tugged him inside the building, “You’re just coming up to get out of the cold.”

“Yeah, I’m freezing.” Anthony groaned as the lift opened behind them and he stumbled forward.

Their lips were only millimetres apart and Kate could feel the rise and fall of his laboured breathing and the warmth of his body and a moan rumbled in her throat. She reached forward pressing the emergency stop and Anthony’s lips crashed against hers.

It was different than it had been last night, when they’d been carried away and their lips found one another while the crowd cheered. This was quieter, and Edwina’s hand was patting her on the shoulder but Anthony’s kiss was nowhere near as tender. His hands were tight on her waist and the wall of his chest was firm as he pressed forward until she was stuck between him and the lift. His tongue swept roughly over hers, stoking the fire that was slowly burning between them and she felt her legs fall open. Anthony’s hands tightened and he lifted her onto the railing, the palm of his hand warm over her calf as it slid up her leg and a satisfied purr rumbled through his chest.

His hair fell into his eyes and it made him somehow even more handsome as she pulled him closer.

“We’re not going to have sex.”

Kate shook her head but her hips arched against his as he nipped at her neck. “We’re not having sex.”

Anthony nodded and his hand slipped further up the leg hooked around his hip, drawing him closer again and Kate could feel her fingertips on the edge of her underwear as heat licked at her stomach, pushing her forward.

“But on the other hand.” Anthony’s teeth bit into her neck, “What kind of internet husband would I be if I didn’t make you feel… something for me?”

Kate could stop the whine that fell from her chest, and her voice was breathless “Not a very good one.”

“Well, I want to be a very good boy.”

His eyes were asking her, begging her and Kate nodded as her hips rocked forward against his fingers.

“oh, fuck Kate, I can feel how much you want me.”

They hadn’t even slipped into her underwear yet and already her eyes were rolling back in her head and her leg drew him in impossibly closer. They were breathing the same air now. Every breath that left her was drawn into his lungs and passed back and the tension in the elevator was thick as Anthony’s hand moved slowly against her. His lips were still on her neck, sucking gently and he whispered filthy nothing in her ear as they moved slowly together.

Her entire body was on fire, it felt like as her hand cupped his neck and drew their lips back together in a filthy kiss and her mind couldn’t quite keep up. The sweet man who’d taken his sister to a concert had her grinding against his fingers in the lift of her building.

“Oh Good girl.”

His fingers slipped under the fabric, pushing inside her and a whine fell from her lips as he circled her gently. Anthony caught her hand from his neck and his eyes locked with hers as her hips bucked against the feel of his hand. he held her hand against his lips and sucked her thumb into his mouth his eyes darkening and Kate’s eyes rolled back in her head.

His fingers started moving faster and she could feel him against her thigh, his hips searching for friction as he ground against her. Anthony’s hand fisted in her hair to prevent her head banging against the wall as he started moving faster and faster pushing her closer to the edge as heat coiled tightly in her stomach. She was so close she could almost taste it. She could taste Anthony on her tongue and smell his cologne and his voice in her ear made her spine shiver against him.

“Come. Kate.”

She fell over the edge with a sharp shout and her vision blurred as her body shook against him, her legs holding him in place.

Her legs could barely support her, When Anthony set her down, kissing her quickly before he drew his fingers into his mouth sucking loudly. He winked at her as he let turned off the emergency brake and stepped out into the lobby as the door opened.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Kate.”

And Kate was left staring after him “What the fuck?!”

#spicy sunday🌶️#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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wyntereyez · 1 year ago

Text

A Little Batty

Here it is... my @cssns contribution! It's late because I've been burned out, and it was originally going to have art by @spartanguard and be betaed by @ohmakemeahercules, but because I didn't get anything done until the last minute, I didn't want to impose.

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A Little Batty

Emma’s nights volunteering at the Storybrooke Bat Rehabilitation Center (locally referred to as ‘The Belfry’) weren’t something she’d ever imagined herself doing. She was no Disney princess; she didn’t have a natural rapport with animals. But The Belfry was her sister-in-law’s baby, and who was Emma to resist Mary Margaret’s pleading eyes? And she had to admit, any animal that let you roll it into a little burrito was cute.

Plus, her nights fell on the nights Henry was over at Neal’s. Though she didn’t think she was one of Those Moms who missed their children whenever they weren’t around, Emma admitted to herself that she was lonely when he was gone. Their creaky old house suddenly felt big and empty, and it became too much for Emma. At least at The Belfry, she could socialize without going to the effort of getting dressed up and going out in public.

Ruby was already there when Emma arrived. Unlike Emma, she did have a way with animals (“Not all animals; just creatures of the night,” she’d joked) and was the best at handling the animals when their cages needed cleaning.

And then there was Mary Margaret, who really was a Disney Princess, and you couldn’t convince Emma otherwise. All animals loved her, and she loved all animals.

They were gathered around Mary Margaret’s desk, discussing distribution of chores (Emma was not on cage-cleaning duty tonight, thank goodness) when they were interrupted by the arrival of William Smee, the man in charge of the local marina.

Emma thought at first he’d come specifically looking for her as sheriff, but he’d only nodded in greeting and headed straight to Mary Margaret.

He was wearing the thick gloves he used for dock work, and held what looked like a ratty old beach towel cupped in both hands. “Mrs. Nolan! I found a bat down at the docks. I didn’t know what else to do with him, so I brought him straight here.”

It was unusual for Smee to be working this late at night, especially past the tourist season, and Emma instinctively wondered why. She mentally scolded herself; she needed to stop being paranoid; not everyone did things for duplicitous reasons. Like her ex.

“Let’s see what you have,” Mary Margaret said. She opened the desk drawer and withdrew a set of the thick leather gloves they used when handling the bats. Smee pulled away the top layer of the towel, just enough to reveal his captive without releasing it.

Emma expected a large brown bat; they made up most of the local bat population, and thus most of The Belfry’s residents. She wasn’t prepared for when the towel fell away from a sharp, fox-like muzzle and huge eyes, topped with large, pointed ears.

It was a fruit bat. A rather large one, at that. It stared calmly back at them with its wide, dark eyes, and twitched its ears. It seemed completely unbothered at being a bat-burrito, suggesting it was accustomed to being handled. It yawned, exposing sharp canines, one of which had a small chip in it.

“Where did you find it?” Mary Margaret asked as she pulled on the thick leather gloves.

“He was down at the docks,” Smee said. “Nestled in a coil of rope. I almost missed him, but he squeaked at me. It’s like he wanted to get my attention.”

The bat squeaked, as though it were chiming in.

“He didn’t even put up a fight. He was easy to catch - you’ll see why,” Smee said as the last of the towel fell away, leaving the bat exposed in Mary Margaret’s hand. Annoyed, the bat spread its wings, and Emma ducked out of the way of the enormous right wing.

It was only after she righted herself that noticed his left wing, which Mary Margaret had caught and was gently holding. It was only half the length of the right, ending with a club of scar tissue just below what would have been the wrist. Mary Margaret was examining it critically, frowning.

“It’s an old injury,” Mary Margaret said, releasing the wing. The bat gave her a sour look and tucked it to his side. “No way he’s been living wild. He’s probably someone’s pet; a sailor, maybe, since you found him at the docks. He’s definitely used to being handled.”

He was also very obviously a ‘he,’ Emma couldn’t help but notice when the bat rolled over onto his back, his rear towards Emma. He looked towards her, gave a startled squeak, and wrapped his wings around himself.

Emma needed to stop anthropomorphizing the residents, because there was no way he could be embarrassed by accidentally flashing her.

“We’ll put him in one of the isolation cages for now,” Mary Margaret decided. “Just because he seems healthy now, doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong with him. Ruby, I brought a banana for a snack; it’s in the break room if you could grab it for me, please?”

“Do you have any idea where he came from?” Emma asked Smee. Fruit bats were illegal to have as pets, and while Emma didn’t think the owner would get more than a fine, they could lead to a larger illegal animal trade organization. “Anyone new around the docks?” It was the wrong time of year for it, though; most of the boats that came to Storybrooke for the summer tourist season had departed in the last few weeks. It was possible one of them had left the bat, but that meant he’d been on the docks fending for himself for at least a week. He look too healthy for a pet that had been abandoned that long.

“We have one ship that’s wintering over for repairs, but he’s not the bat’s owner,” Smee said. He seemed very certain of this, but there was something shifty in his gaze as he said it. Emma prided herself at being good at detecting lies and Smee…wasn’t lying, not exactly, but he wasn’t telling the truth, either. Before Emma could pursue it further, however, Mary Margaret interrupted.

“Obviously, he can’t be released into the wild,” Mary Margaret sighed. “He seems pretty docile; we can probably put him in the bat educational program, assuming he’s healthy and remains easy to handle. Thank you for bring him, Mr. Smee. We’ll take good care of him.”

Smee took this as his cue to leave, but not without an odd backward glance at the bat.

Emma told herself the bat did not nod at Smee.

Ruby returned with the banana and began to peel it. At the sight of it, the bat began squeaking and straining towards it. “Someone’s hungry,” she cooed, and held it out. The bat’s mouth opened wide, and he tore off a chunk that looked like it should have been too large for him.

They let him eat as much as he wanted while Mary Margaret held him. When he was finished, consuming almost the entire thing (How? Emma wondered. Where did he put it all?), Mary Margaret said, “I need to feed the others. Emma, could you get some gloves and put this guy in the furthest isolation cage?”

Emma grabbed another set of gloves. “Isn’t he too big?” The cages were designed for much smaller brown bats; he’d be cramped.

“He should be okay for a few days. And since he can’t fly, we don’t have to worry about too little space. He should have enough room to spread his wings, at least.”

The bat chittered, and licked banana mush off its muzzle. “We’ll have more fruit for you tomorrow,” Mary Margaret promised. “A variety. How do you feel about strawberries?” She chattered on as she transferred him to Emma.

The bat squeaked excitedly.

Which was a valid reaction to strawberries, but couldn’t be in response to Mary Margaret’s words. Right?

Could bats pick up words, like dogs? Maybe he did understand ‘strawberries.’

Emma carried the bat to the back area, past the large, open enclosures that housed the permanent populations, as well as the wild ones that would be released as soon as they were ready. The isolation cages were smaller, designed to make it easy to catch a bat that would need constant care and observation.

She opened the door of the last cage, the largest, and gently lowered her hands. It took some prodding to move him off her palms, and at last he moved with great reluctance. He crawled across the floor of the cage to the bars, and immediately began to climb them to the top, unhindered by the missing finger bones of his wing, then crawled around the top until he found the perfect spot. He anchored his feet in place and dropped his body until he was hanging upside down, eye to eye with Emma. Then, with a great yawn, he pulled his wings around himself until only the tips of his ears were visible.

“Stay out of trouble,” she told him.

Emma could have sworn he’d winked at her.

~oOo~

Emma stopped by the marina at the end of her shift, curious if the bat’s owner had returned. Her attention was drawn to a ship she hadn’t seen before, a massive wooden ship that looked like it would be more at home in the Caribbean than in Maine. It was moored at the largest dock, and Emma saw it had no sails, nor any rigging. It must have been the ship Smee said was staying over for the winter, since that was the only reason to derig it. She hadn’t expected anything so… spectacular. The ship was gorgeous. She studied it curiously for several minutes, wondering who would own such a vessel, then shrugged and headed towards the main office. The door was locked, however; Smee had already left, and there was no one else on the docks.

She shrugged and headed to The Belfry.

Mary Margaret was already there, feeding the residents. It alway icked Emma out, to see her gentle sister-in-law feeding the ecstatic bats their mealworms.

“How’s our newest resident?” Emma asked.

“He was just waking up when I checked on him,” Mary Margaret said. “He looks alert, with no obvious signs of illness. The vet stopped by earlier to take some samples, so we should know soon if there’s any diseases we should worry about.” She frowned. “There was a bit of blood in his cage, but the vet couldn’t find any injuries. Did you cut yourself when you put him in the cage last night?”

“No,” she said, but examined her hands anyway.

“Huh. Well, if you’d like to feed him, there’s a bowl of fresh fruit in the fridge for him.” Mary Margaret grinned. “At least you’ll be able to feed this one without screaming,” she teased.

Emma scowled, because her revulsion to mealworms was totally valid, thank you very much.

Ruby had thrown a mealworm at her.

It had gone down her cleavage.

Emma was never going to touch a damn worm again.

Emma found the bowl of fruit, snagging a chunk of melon for herself before picking up the bowl and carrying it to the quarantine cage.

He was clinging to the bars of the cage when she arrived, his nose pressed to the fine mesh between the bars as though he’d been waiting for her. When he saw her - or, more likely, the bowl of fruit - he began to squeak excitedly.

Emma was charmed.

The name ‘Killian’ had been written on the paper taped to his cage, in fancy penmanship that Emma didn’t recognize.

“Killian, huh?” Emma asked.

The bat squeaked.

“Okay, if you say so.”

She snagged another piece of fruit - a strawberry this time, much to the bat’s indignation - then placed the bowl at the bottom of the cage. Killian quickly climbed down and hopped into the bowl, quickly losing himself in fruity bliss.

Emma laughed, then went to help Mary Margaret finish up.

“Who named him Killian?” she asked.

Mary Margaret frowned. “I thought you did. The name was there when I got here, and you were the last one to see him.”

“If I’d named him, it would be something like ‘Batty,’” Emma pointed out. “Or possibly ‘Dracula.’” She shrugged. “He seems to like it, so we may as well keep it.”

Mary Margaret gave her a strange look. “I’m sure he doesn’t care,” was all she said.

~oOo~

Killian’s test results came back clean. As long as his phlegmatic temperament continued, he’d be introduced to the other bats, though he’d be kept in a cage alone to accommodate his disability. He seemed fine with this; the smaller cage was beside the bigger one, so he could watch and communicate with the other bats if he chose. It also had bars that were easier to grip and climb. For a fruit bat with full, functional wings, it wouldn’t be ideal, but since Killian couldn’t fly, all he needed was enough room to stretch his wings to the fullest without touching the bars.

When he continued to be easy to handle, they decided it was safe to hold him without gloves. He seemed to like this, settling into Emma’s hands contentedly.

That was how she found out that bats purred.

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said. “He really likes you! Guess you’re his official caretaker from now on.”

Killian continued to purr in her hands. Emma decided maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Because he was so comfortable with people, even seeming to prefer their company, Emma took to carrying him around the sanctuary. Sometimes he’d be burritoed in a blanket, other times he’d drape over her shoulder, that incredibly long intact wing lazily hanging down. He seemed very curious about the computer whenever she played around with it at the desk (officially ‘doing paperwork’ for the sanctuary, but actually looking at memes) and she’d see his wide, dark eyes staring at the images.

He seemed especially interested in the staffing schedule.

Emma was also the only one he allowed to ‘fly’ him. It was something they did with elderly bats, holding them and carrying them around the sanctuary, wings spread, as if they were flying. Killian seemed bemused by the whole process, but allowed himself to be carried around.

Especially since the reward was always a bowl of fresh fruit - and gentle ear scritches from Emma.

~oOo~

Emma hadn’t intended to start dating again. Her divorce from Neal had been messy; he hadn’t been willing to let her go, despite his affair with his now-girlfriend Tamara. She thought she was done with men.

And then her sister-in-law introduced her to Walsh. They’d met when Mary Margaret had gone to the new furniture store in town, and she’d been charmed by his politeness.

Emma had tried to refuse Mary Margaret’s efforts to set them up, but then David had joined in. Her brother had thus far sided with Emma, and had talked Mary Margaret out of multiple attempts at a set-up. For him to approve of Walsh? That meant something. So Emma had reluctantly agreed to the date.

Walsh felt… safe. He was polite, respectful. Not particularly adventurous, which would have been a big turn-off once, but now it had appeal. Best of all, he didn’t argue with her every decision. She’d forgotten what it was like to be in a relationship with no drama.

One date became two, and plans were made for a third.

~oOo~

Emma arrived late to the sanctuary on the night of her second date. She hadn’t wanted to be out so late, but Walsh had admitted to being something of a night owl, and didn’t really eat until around nine in the evening. Emma had had to have a pre-dinner before dinner, because she knew she’d starve to death if she waited that long.

But she’d had more fun than expected. And eating later in the evening meant fewer diners, which had made the restaurant more intimate.

She’d liked it.

And the dim interior made it harder to maintain eye contact with Walsh. She’d noticed that he had a really intense gaze, and tried to meet hers as often as he could. It was… uncomfortable, for reasons Emma couldn’t really explain.

Emma put it out of her mind as she turned her attention on the anxious fruit bat, who was perched with his muzzle sticking out of the cage. At the sight of her, he gave several ear-piercing shrieks.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

Killian gave her a sour look.

“Hey! Don’t give me that! It’s not like you can tell time!”

He continued to glower.

“Okay, sorry!”

He tilted his head, considering. Then, with a sound that was almost a purr, he extended his right wing towards her thumb, snagging it with his clever little finger, and pulling her hand closer. He was about to pull himself onto her hand when he suddenly froze.

His nose twitched, wrinkled, and he bared his sharp little teeth. And then he did something he’d never done before.

He hissed.

Emma jerked her hands back. “Whoa! What’s with you today?”

He continued to stare at her as though she smelled rancid, and he wouldn’t come near her. Rather than stress him out further, Emma let him be. It wouldn’t hurt him to miss a night of flying.

~oOo~

A bat’s rejection shouldn’t have stung.

Killian continued to be edgy the rest of the night, so she left him alone.

After her shift, Emma realized she was too restless to sleep. Maybe it was a lingering excitement over the date, or maybe Emma really had taken Killian’s tantrum personally, but she didn’t want to go home. It was Neal’s weekend with Henry, and she couldn’t face being cooped up in that empty house.

So she went to The Rabbit Hole, Storybrooke’s only nightlife scene. She drew a few glances as she walked in, but they lost interest as soon as they saw she was off duty. She went straight to the bar and ordered a strawberry daiquiri, because apparently hanging around a fruit bat made you crave fruity things.

She’d been there maybe ten minutes when someone sat beside her. A richly accented voice that definitely did not send a shiver down Emma’s spine asked for a rum.

Emma waited until he’d been served his drink before turning to him and asking, “New in town?”

He turned, and Emma’s breath hitched when she met those blue, blue eyes. “What gave it away, Love?” he asked, amused.

English accents turned her into putty. Especially when combined with a smoldering gaze.

Mistakes had been made.

“I know everyone in this town,” she said. “You stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Oh? And who might you be?”

“I’m the sheriff,” she warned him.

“And you don’t take kindly to strangers ‘round these parts?” he mocked, adapting a twang.

“We’re fine with strangers - so long as they don’t bring trouble.”

He grinned, flashing sharp teeth. “And I look like trouble?”

Emma arched an eyebrow.

His smile widened. Oh, he knew exactly how he looked.

“Killian Jones,” he said, offering his hand. Emma lifted a brow when, instead of shaking, he brushed his lips across the back of her hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She hmmphed, refusing to be charmed by his old world manners.

Emma’s eyes fell on his left wrist, where a thick leather brace supported a rather alarming looking metal hook. His gaze followed hers. “Forgive the hardware,” he said. “Crude, I know, but it’s far more useful sailing than a more delicate prosthesis or a false hand.” He pulled his arm closer to his chest, not quite hiding it, but at least making it look less threatening.

His name wasn’t the only thing he had in common with their fruit bat.

“Are you a sailor, Mr. Jones?”

“Killian,” he reminded her. “Or Captain Jones, if you prefer to be formal. And I’m actually a pirate.”

Emma scoffed, then realized, “That old-fashioned ship in the marina! It’s yours!”

Killian nodded. “Aye, the Jolly Roger,” he said. That seemed a bit too on point. “I do charter sails for history buffs, as well as doing movie and television appearances. You’d be surprised what people will pay for a two-week Caribbean cruise with a dashing rapscallion like meself.” He grinned, and once again Emma had the unsettling thought that his teeth were very, very sharp.

“And what brings you here, Captain?”

“My ship is in need of repair, so I’m going to winter over in your lovely town,” he said.

“Odd; Granny Lucas didn’t mention taking in any lodgers,” Emma noted.

“I’ve made other arrangements,” Killian shrugged.

Maybe he’d leased a place, then. The cottages were usually only available to lease to summer tourists, but she wouldn’t be surprised if one of the owners made an exception.

“You don’t happen to own a bat, do you?” she asked suddenly.

He blinked rapidly, blindsided.

He had beautiful eyelashes.

“Like…a baseball bat?” he asked slowly.

“Never mind,” Emma muttered. She pulled a couple of crumpled bills out of her pocket and set them on the bar. She stood up. “Nice to meet you Mr. - Captain Jones. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“I didn’t get your name,” he said. It wasn’t a demand; rather, a polite inquiry. He was allowing her to be mysterious if she chose. Not that it would be hard to find out her name, since she was the sheriff. Still, she appreciated it.

“Emma Swan,” she said.

“See you around, Swan,” he said, low and throaty, and she totally did not shiver.

She left before she could embarrass herself.

~oOo~

Emma’s third date with Walsh led to a fourth.

After each date, Killian-the-bat would give her that angry hiss, and Emma wondered if he were somehow jealous that someone else was taking her time.

But he’d eventually get over it.

Which was probably a good thing, because they had their first school visit of the semester, and if he’d been cranky, he’d have missed out on having dozens of adoring children who cooed at him and gave him all the fruit he could ever want.

Though he wasn’t too crazy about being touched by their sticky fingers. But he allowed it, showing more patience than Emma had ever had.

She saw Killian-the-human several times over the next week; usually at the bar, once, coming out of the hardware store with items she assumed were for ship repair. Each time, he gave her a significant Look that she couldn’t read.

And then it happened, on a night when Emma was walking out of Granny’s diner with a bag full of carryout containers and a couple of donuts in preparation for an overnight shift at The Belfry.

After three weeks of casual conversation, Killian asked her out for a drink.

And Emma…she wanted to go.

Even though she barely knew him, she felt a spark with him, something that was more than just the thrill of his smoldering gaze.

“I’m actually seeing someone,” she said.

She hadn’t meant to sound regretful. She shouldn’t feel bad about dating Walsh, right?

“You don’t sound so certain,” Killian observed.

Dammit. “No, I am,” she said firmly. “He’s…nice.”

“All right,” Killian said. “I’ll see you around then, Swan.”

Emma released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. That had been harder than she’d expected. And a little part of her had feared he wouldn’t respond well to being ‘friendzoned.’

She watched him walk away, swaggering, then turned and stepped forward - into something very solid.

Walsh.

A deep frown was etched into his features. Emma wondered how long he’d been standing there in the dark, and if he’d heard everything.

“Who was that?” he asked.

Emma didn’t like his tone. Clearly, he had been eavesdropping.

“Just someone wintering over,” Emma said. “We talk occasionally.”

“He seemed to want to do more than talk,” Walsh said. His jaw was clenched, and Emma frowned. Oh, no. They were not going to do this.

“It doesn’t matter what he wanted,” Emma said coolly.

“Come to dinner with me,” Walsh said. It wasn’t a question.

Oh, hell no. She was not going to put up with this possessive bullshit.

“I have other plans,” she said.

“Like what?” he demanded.

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

Something flickered across Walsh’s face, then he abruptly deflated. “Sorry,” he said. “I know I have nothing to worry about. I just don’t want to lose you, Emma.”

Emma studied him, all senses on alert. But he seemed sincere enough. Still… “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” she told him wearily. “Right now, I have to get going.”

She made it to The Belfry just as Ruby was leaving for the day. “I left some bags of popcorn for you for later,” she told Emma as she pulled on her coat. “There’s some Milk Duds, too.”

Emma grinned. “You’re the best, Ruby.”

“I know,” the other woman grinned toothily.

Nights at The Belfry tended to be long. Emma only over-nighted once a week, and she used the time to binge watch shows. The last time she’d done it, Killian-the-bat had sat on her shoulder and squeaked at the screen.

She’d just checked the bats and was about to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave when she heard the front door open.

Emma froze. She could have sworn she locked it.

And then a familiar voice called, “Emma?” and she relaxed. Marginally. Why was Walsh here?

“Walsh, hey,” Emma said cautiously. “We don’t really allow guests this late at night.”

“I’m not a guest, I’m your boyfriend,” he reminded her.

Emma went over to the front desk, sitting on the edge. Her hand crept over to the lamp on the corner.

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not? Is he here?”

Nope. Not doing this.

“Walsh… If you’re going to do this, then I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I’m not going to put up with someone who doesn’t trust me and stalks me at work.”

Walsh leaned back, staring down at her. But he made no move to leave. Emma braced herself for the inevitable meltdown.

Instead, he threw back his head and laughed.

At her shocked look, he said, “Did you think that would hurt me? It’s a relief, actually,” Walsh said. “Having to pretend to be interested in you is draining. You’re too abrasive, and you don’t trust anyone. Which, admittedly, was the right choice here. But it’s over now, and my master will reward me well.”

His eyes were red. Not bloodshot, but glowing a baleful crimson. “What the fu-”

Then their eyes locked, and Emma felt…something. It writhed around in her mind, clawing into her, leaving her feeling dirty. He was inside her head somehow, and she wanted him out, out, OUT!

Emma jerked her gaze away, and Walsh snarled.

“Why isn’t this working?” Walsh fumed. “You should be mine!” Then he smirked, showing off far too sharp teeth. “Guess we’ll have to do this the fun way, then.”

Emma reacted. Her hand flew to the heavy lamp on the desk corner, and she flung it at Walsh’s head. He didn’t react in time, and it hit him squarely in the forehead.

He didn’t even flinch.

It should have taken him down, or at least disoriented him long enough to continue attacking or escape. No man should have taken a direct hit to the head and just shaken it off.

He wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t human.

So Emma ran.

Her lunge to the side caught Walsh by surprise, and he didn’t immediately react. It bought her a few precious seconds to dart through the door leading towards the cage room.

There was an emergency exit in the back of the sanctuary. Emma sprinted towards it.

Walsh stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path.

How?! How had he gotten in front of her? It wasn’t possible!

“I’m not here to kill you, Emma,” Walsh said in exasperation. “I’m just going to take you to my master.”

Killian shrieked, beating his wings against the bars of his cage. Walsh ignored him.

“But…nobody said I couldn’t rough you up a bit.” His hands extended towards her, tipped in razor sharp claws.

Killian fell silent.

Emma dropped to the floor and kicked her leg out, hitting Walsh in the knee with bone-breaking force. It didn’t do more than stagger him, however, and he quickly recovered. Emma rolled away, but misjudged her direction and slammed into one of the cages. The bats inside fluttered their wings in agitation.

Walsh lunged towards her.

And then Walsh crashed to the floor. Something bumped and rolled across the floor, coming to a stop before Emma. Walsh’s head, the red fading from his eyes as they slowly dimmed.

Standing over the body was Killian, the human Killian, dressed in black leather and wielding what looked like a pirate’s cutlass. “Are you all right, Love?” he asked.

His eyes had the same red glow as Walsh’s.

“What the fuck?” Emma shrieked.

Killian gave her a crooked smile.

A fang poked out from behind his lips.

“Apologies, Love,” Killian Jones said. The red was fading from his eyes, though the sharp fangs remained. “I’ll clean up the mess.”

Emma just stared at his teeth.

One of them was chipped. Just like Killian-the-bat’s.

“You’re…you’re…”

“A vampire, yes,” Killian said. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. But Emma supposed that made more sense than what she’d been about to say: You’re my bat! “As was your…boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Emma muttered. “It was just a couple of dates.”

“Mmph.” He crouched down, examining Walsh’s body. Then, to her horror, he dragged his finger through the small pool of blood and put it in his mouth.

“He’s a neophyte; probably not more than a year since he was changed. Which means his master has to be close by, because a vampire this young seldom strays far from his master.” Killian studied her closely. “Which means he was specifically sent to seduce you. I wonder why?”

Emma didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t know, she wasn’t special.

“You somehow resisted his attempt to control you,” Killian continued. “That’s a rare gift.”

”You should be mine,” Walsh had said.

“How can you be a vampire?” There was a shrill edge of panic to her voice. This was too much, far too much.

“It’s a long story,” he said. “I won’t get into that tonight. All you need to know is that I hunt vampires like him, those who break our laws and hunt humans.”

“But… I’ve seen you during the day.” Walsh, on the other hand, she’d never before sunset. She’d just assumed he was a night owl, not a freaking vampire

“I’m over 300 years old. I’ve developed an immunity to sunlight. I don’t like it, but I can go out in it.”

“Three hun-” Her brain stuttered to a halt. “Are you actually a pirate?”

Killian chuckled. “I have been called such, yes. I prefer ‘dashing rapscallion.’”

“You would,” she scoffed.

“There’s that spirit,” he said approvingly. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

She tried to back away, forgetting in her panic that the cage was behind her.

“I’ve been here over a month, and you haven’t had any mysterious deaths or illnesses related to blood loss, aye?”

There hadn’t been, actually. The town had been as calm as it always was after the tourist season ended. That didn’t mean Killian didn’t do his hunting elsewhere, but she hadn’t heard anything from the nearest towns, either.

“So…you’ve been living in town as a bat and a human for a month, and no one even noticed?”

“The werewolf knows, but she and I reached an understanding.”

“The…the werewolf…” Emma repeated faintly.

“The lovely Miss Lucas,” Killian said. “She figured out what I was fairly quickly, but we came to an agreement.”

“Ruby…is a werewolf…”

“Aye. She’ll probably be furious that I told you, but she will vouch for me. She knows our laws, and how strictly we enforce them.”

This was all too much. Emma had snapped. She blurted out the next thing that came to mind. “Shouldn’t you be a vampire bat?”

Killian looked pained. “I don’t have the most fearsome bat form, I admit.” And then his expression became lascivious. “But I’m certainly one of the biggest.”

Of course you are, Emma thought.

Emma’s hands were still shaking. She clenched her fists, hoping to hide the trembling.

He noticed, however, and his face softened.

“I mean you no harm, Swan,” Killian said softly. “I rarely need to partake in human blood, and then only with willing donors. This town is safe from me.” His gaze went to Walsh’s corpse. “His master, however, seems to have no such qualms. It appears we were right about his intentions.”

“Is…is that why you’re here?” Emma asked.

“To find his master, yes,” Killian said. “We suspected that a powerful old vampire was no longer keeping to our laws, and I was dispatched to track them. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for some time. Though I suppose you’ll want me to find other accommodations,” he added regretfully. “Pity; you have some lovely fruit.”

Emma assumed that was supposed to be an entendre, but when she looked at his expression, she realized that, no, he actually meant fruit. What kind of vampire fed on fruit? “You can stay for now, until you find something better,” Emma offered. “Although, you will have to put up with the Bat Education Program,” she finished apologetically. “Mary Margaret wants to make you the star. But somehow, I don’t think you mind being the center of attention.”

Killian grimaced. “I’ll tolerate it. But only if the children wash their hands,” he growled

“She’s calling you the ‘am-bat-sador,’” Emma warned.

”Bloody hell,” Killian groaned. “But it will help me guard the children. They’re preferred victims of rogue vampires,” he concluded grimly.

A shiver went down her spine, and this time it wasn’t because of his accent.

Something evil was coming to Storybrooke.

~fin~

#author: wyntereyez #fandom: once upon a time #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #vampires #cssns #cssns23

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