#I got fucking EAGLES flapping around my stomach

[bonesxbows]

Something's Gotta Give (Aries x Reader)

My Masterlist

After a rough run through the Big Bend tunnel, Aries helps you with your wounds and unexpectedly finds something he wasn't supposed to

(WARNINGS) - graphically described self harm wounds - depressing themes - basic game type violence mentioned

there's a void for Aries fanfic out there and I aim to change that, one 3 am written fic at a time

he's such a good and complex character, lovehimsomuch

was gonna make this one longer but gave up on that idea. might make a part two, idk yet

thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoy! reblogs and comments much appreciated!

-

It had been a rough run through Big Bend, the brahmin barely making it through alive along with the three of you. Rudy had taken a couple of hits, a few bites, and a few scratches along with getting grazed by a few stray bullets, but you and Aries had taken the brunt of the attacks. The only reason everyone, including both brahmin, got out alive was because halfway through the tunnel you had instructed Rudy to keep moving with the Brahmin while you and Aries kept the Blood Eagles occupied, meaning that every single raider and their mongrel were focused on the two of you. 

Now the two of you were in a tent set out with cots for the guards and traders while Rudy was outside looking after the Brahmin. Vinny had closed the tent flaps behind you two so you could look after your wounds in private. 

“Lemme see your stomach,” Aries said as you sat down on a cot. 

“Why can’t we deal with your arm first?” You counter-offered. He pulled out a medicine bag from under one of the other cots. 

“My arm’ll be fine. Somethin' important could’ve been hit in your torso. Lemme see.” He sat down on the cot across from you and you realized there was no arguing to do here, he was always stubborn when it came to your well-being. 

Aries went to pull off your shirt but stopped when you winced in pain. The drying blood made the material stick to your skin like glue. He fished out a container of clean water and a semi-clean-looking rag from the medical kit. 

“Can you lay down for me?” He asked and you did so, moving carefully so you didn’t stretch any wounds open more. He wet the rag and used it to gently wipe away any crusted blood that he could get at, peeling your shirt up as he went until the entire cut was exposed, one long thin angry red line from a Blood Eagle’s switchblade. It ran almost the entire width of your stomach and it covered the entire area in a dark crimson. 

“Doesn’t look like it needs stitches, but I’m no doctor. Best I can do is clean it up and bandage it so you don’t bleed out on me.” Aries was mostly talking to himself, he didn’t wait for a response before pouring a new liquid on the scrap cloth and wiping the wound. 

“Fuck!” You yelled. You guessed the liquid was some kind of alcohol from the way it burned so badly. You wanted to push away his hand, yell for him to stop, but you knew it was better in the long run if he kept at it. The last thing you wanted was an infection. Aries seemed unfazed by your scream, until he took one of your hands in his free hand, giving it a light squeeze, his way of silently reassuring you that everything was gonna be alright. 

The burning sensation was so strong that everything was a haze until Aries put his hand behind your back and helped you sit back up. White gauze was wrapped around your torso, already being stained slightly pink as the cut began to slow its bleeding. 

He left you sitting up on your cot while he stripped off his shirt, revealing scars, both new and old, that littered his small frame. The majority of them were clustered around his neck and upper chest, and you assumed they continued up onto his face, trophies from his failed attempt of reprogramming a certain assaultron. 

The newest one added to his collection was from a Blood Eagle’s mongrel, it had caught him from behind and sunk its teeth into Aries’s forearm, near his elbow. You watched as he held his arm out over the edge of the cot and poured the alcohol over the puncture wounds. Even with his mask on you could still tell he was biting his lip to hold back a scream. The whole sight looked extremely painful and seeing him in so much pain made you wince. He tried to wrap the now heavily disinfected area in a piece of cloth, but it was difficult when he only had one hand to work with. 

“Here, let me.” You reached forward, moving to grab the makeshift bandage from his hand. 

“I got it.” He muttered under his breath. But both of you knew he couldn’t do it by himself, despite his stubbornness. So you took the two ends of the cloth from him, gently wrapping it around his arm and tucking it in itself so it didn’t unravel. Unbeknownst to you, Aries stared at the bloodstained wrist of your shirt while he waited for you to finish. 

“Did that bastard with the blade knick you in the wrist too?” He asked. The word “wrist” made you jump and you instinctively pulled your arms close to your chest. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Aries, but you played it off as if you hadn’t been startled by a single word. 

“No...no. He didn’t. That’s...old blood. Yeah. Must’ve been wearing this shirt while out hunting and forgot to wash the sleeves.” You looked down at the material that covered your wrists and forearms. One sleeve end was almost completely stained a dark red while the other just had some small spots of red polka dotting the sleeve. “It’s not important anyway,” you tried to change the subject, “How’s your arm? Your leg? Your back?” You mentally went down the list of where you had seen Aries take a hit during the fight. 

“They’re fine. Promise. Can I have a look at your wrists? Please?” Aries held out his hands. You were hesitant, not only because of the secret you were hiding but because you had a feeling that he had figured it out himself already. 

“Aries...I…” you looked down at your feet. Was there a way out of this conversation, or had the cards been revealed and your secret was up? 

“I won’t be upset. I swear.” He told you as if he could read your mind and knew you were worried. You breathed in a shaky breath and sighed, placing the wrist with the blood-stained sleeve into his hands. 

He softly ran his finger over your palm before taking ahold of the sleeve and pulling it down your arm, tearing up the dried blood that caked your skin as the material was removed. You wouldn't dare to look, turning your head to the side and staring at the wall of the tent. 

Aries stopped when the majority of your forearm was exposed. The sight made his stomach churn. What should have been soft, maybe slightly scarred, semi-clean skin was instead a messy blur of red, pink, brown, and purple. Scars, both old and new, littered every area of skin on your forearm until there was little undamaged skin left. Some scars were old, the thin and thick lines worn over with pink, blending in the new flesh with the old, but some were newer, the angry red lines surrounded by spots of purple and brown as they tried to close up and heal. 

But a few were a bright angry red, freshly dried blood caking the area in a dark crimson. The slits were fairly large and deep enough that they formed a crack in your skin. 

“When was the last time?” Aries asked, holding your wrists firmly. He didn’t sound angry, but his voice was still stern. You wanted to answer, but the words got caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Y/n.” This time he was a little louder, and a little firmer. The dam behind your eyes cracked and your walls came tumbling down.

“Earlier. Before the run through the tunnel.” You blurted out, hot tears pouring down your face. “I’m sorry. Please...please don’t be mad.” Your gazes met and for the first time since the two of you met, you didn’t want to be anywhere near Aries. 

But he wasn’t mad. He didn’t yell or belittle you. Instead, he let go of your wrists and cupped your face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. 

“You can’t be doin' this anymore sweetheart.” He said, his voice now soft and cooing. You sniffled. 

“I’m sorry...I didn’t think it would become an issue...I just…” you lost your words again, unsure of how to explain everything. Instead, you looked at him, and even though he was wearing a mask, somehow you could tell that he knew exactly how you felt. 

“I don’t want to lose you, okay? Not after everything that’s happened. I can’t. And maybe it’s selfish to think that, but I don’t care. You mean too much to me.” Aries sounded scared, and a part of you hated yourself for scaring the one person you loved the most. Especially when he was already so traumatized from everything else that had happened to him. 

“Aries...I…” your voice cracked, ending your sentence short. You took the time to think before trying to speak again. You knew trying to stop would be hard, you had been hurting yourself to cope with the world for as long as you could remember, but would it be easier with Aries right by your side? Then again, the thought of Aries having to deal with something bad happening to you made your insides churn. 

“I’m not saying you have to stop overnight. I know a habit like this takes time to break.” He looked down for a moment, running his fingers over his left wrist remorsefully. You peeked a glance and saw that he had had the same problem as you, albeit many, many years ago. White scars lined his skin near and around his wrist, but they were so old and healed over that you wouldn’t be able to tell they were even there if you weren’t looking closely. Aries knew exactly how you were feeling. 

“...you’ll help?” You asked quietly, still unsure about the whole thing. 

“Of course. You can always count on me.” He told you. His words made a smile tug at your lips. 

The two of you were quiet as he found some old cloth to use as gauze and wrapped your wrists. He was unusually gentle like if he tugged or pulled too hard he would break you like glass. Dusk fell soon enough and, after finding something to eat, the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. Your heart seemed to beat a little calmer than usual and you fell asleep with ease.

[cantsaythetword]

Let Nature Take It’s Course!

~A/N  - HALLO!

Damn I’ve been back to writing a lot today. This one is from a while back when me and one of my best friends (thegirlIhavebeencrushingonforlike2yearsnow) were at her place watching stuff and started messing around with one of those head massager things 

(these things

you know the ones)

and just TWORDY TIMES HAPPENED.

So of course I turned it into a fic, with a little added bit at the end for something I nglreallywishhappenedbutohwell...

Also this is my first MJ and Peter fic (i think)! So lemme know if y’all like it. 

Love you all, I am proud of you, you are doing great <3

- Enoy! ~

When Peter had agreed to a late night study session, he never expected this.

To be at MJ’s house, 5 hours later, watching wild, wacky, and wonderful youtube videos at 3 O’Clock in the morning. 

Yup. They had entered a spiral into the weird side of youtube. And they weren’t getting out of it any time soon. Sure, the first few hours had been productive. They had snacks, laptops out, tea, everything they needed for a night of assignment writing and content memorising. But now, well... They had just finished a video about the Pompeii explosion, and the youtube algorithm had decided that the Bermuda Triangle would be next.

Of course. That’s a logical progression. 

In preparation of the next 10 minutes of mind blowing conspiracies, MJ had decided to get comfy. Meaninglessly lying back against her best friend’s chest.

The best friend in question, however, found this anything but meaningless.

Peter’s heart began to race. Having MJ so close to him was both comforting and exhilarating. His hands grew sweaty, knees weak (arms are heav- ok I’m sorry I’ll stop...), and he just couldn’t concentrate on the video playing in front of him. His thoughts and eyes would just continually drift back to the girl beside him. Something about her kept her in his head, over and over again she ricocheted in his mind like a game of ping pong. And nothing he could would stop it.

In an attempt to stop himself staring at his crush, he let his eyes wander around her bedroom. Not in a creepy way, of course, just to distract himself enough so he didn’t disturb her (or draw attention to himself). It was only the second time Peter had been in MJ’s house, after all, and he couldn’t help but have a bit of a look around.

There was the regular things - posters, pictures of family and friends, jackets, etc. etc., all stuff you’d expect to find in someone’s room.

Then there was the slightly stranger stuff. Like the toy cat they had found for a Halloween costume a year earlier. Or the giraffe onesie that matched Peter's which she had found for a PJ party.  

But none of that was what interested Peter, oh no. As his eyes locked on to a rather interesting object in MJ’s hairbrush holder, he nonchalantly reached over to grab it. It was time for some fun, and thankfully MJ didn’t realise what he was up to. 

With the poise and grace of a... graceful person... he slowly brought his arm back towards him and held the head scratcher over MJ’s relaxed form. Lining up the spokes around her head, he brought it down slowly onto her. 

Oh this was even better than he had imagined.

Her body seemed to seize up immediately, eyes scrunching shut in an adorable grimace, and he could tell there was a threat of giggles gathering in her throat. He gently raised and lowered it a few times, each movement causing her to jerk and shudder in a more entertaining and endearing manner, the smile never leaving her face. 

“Peheh- Pete...” She winced and gasped with each tickly motion. “Cuhu- cut ihit- OUt!”

Eventually he gave her a moment of repose, and she shoved his hands away and gave him a glare.  

“Peter.” She said in a threatening tone, but the boy was way too giddy with himself to notice. 

”What?” He grinned. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Oh, how about you try it then?”

Peter’s face morphed from a teasing smirk to a nervous, open-mouthed smile. He shook his head repeatedly, continuously moving the hand holding the head scratcher so MJ couldn’t grab it off him. The shit-eating grin returned, however, when she gave up and sat back upright to face him.

“Not so brave now are you?” She huffed, giving him a jab to the ribs.

Uh oh.

With the singular small squeak and dramatic flinch, Peter had just signed himself up for a whole world of trouble. And from the look in MJ’s eyes, she wasn’t looking for a further invitation.

Shit.

She dove onto Peter, forcing him onto his back against the mattress, and began to squeeze her hands into his sides.

He gasped and shrieked, making every effort to stay quiet and not give in to his bubbling laughter, the last thing he wanted was to wake her parents. 

“Come on Peter!” She teased in a sing-songy voice. “It can’t be thaaaat bad.”

“Shuhuhut uHUp!” He squeaked, giggles pouring out of his mouth despite his best efforts to stop them. 

Her fingers were like little tickle machines, perfectly dancing over his ribs in the most torturous way possible, and there was nothing Peter could do about it. Sure he could fight off 5 bad guys at a time with his hands behind his back, but the second anyone wriggled a hand at him he was curled up in the fetal position laughing his head off. 

Ribs, tummy, sides, hips, they all blended into one agonisingly sensitive zone as MJ continued her relentless attack. Once she felt Peter was sufficiently tickled out, she grabbed the head scratcher out of his hand and held it in front of her threateningly. 

“Nononono MJ please!” Peter begged, giggles still getting out of his system. “I can’t tAKE IHIHIT!” 

MJ wasn’t going to take no for an answer, 

Managing to scratch at his head, causing hilarious sputters and squirms out of Peter, she let out a chuckle of her own. Bringing his hands up to block another onslaught, she resorted to another target.

Oh boy was that a good choice.

If Peter’s head was ticklish, his knee was even worse. His leg kicked out and spasmed with every slight movement, and she had managed to land herself on top of his thigh so could easily keep him pinned while torturing him.

Through his teary-eyed laughter, Peter latched into MJ’s armpits, sending her tumbling to the side of him and giving him the opportunity to grab the massager of doom. 

“My turn!” He said through gulps of air, laying on her legs and slowly trailing the scratcher down the sides of her knee. 

She squealed and thrashed behind him but he refused to let go. When her arm got caught underneath him, he moved on to her elbow. Sawing the spokes up and down the length of her arm. While it wasn’t as bad as her knee, it still tickled like crazy, causing her hand to flail around as he moved. 

“Got you now!” He grinned cockily.

Perhaps a little too cockily. 

In his over-confident state, he released some of the pressure keeping MJ trapped, giving her the opportunity to escape his clutches, grab the scratcher, and shove it down onto his shoulder. 

The tingly, tickly sensations shot down his chest and over his back, his body practically vibrating like she had just shot him with a tazer. He collapsed into her and giggled helplessly as she cooed down at him.

“Awwww, someone a little ticklish here huh?” She smirked, adding her fingernails against his neck to increase the sensation. 

His head slammed down towards his shoulder, but it couldn’t block out the sensations. It was just too much, and he was just lying there taking it. He had to act fast if he wanted revenge before he was too tired to do anything. 

Quickly spinning himself around, he sat himself up and readied for battle. Both of them with hands outstretched in claws, waiting for the right time to strike. Peter went first, aiming to tickle all over her exposed neck. She squeaked, shoving her hands into his now wide-open armpits. The two were locked in a tickly tangle, both fighting to ensure the other’s surrender. 

As MJ reached with one hand for the head scratcher, Peter kicked off the bed to get a better angle of attack, and the pair of them went tumbling off the side of the bed.

Landing with a soft “oof”, Peter looked down to realise he was now on top of a still giggly MJ. 

“Sorry...” He blushed, frozen in both embarrassment and infatuation. He broke eye contact for a while, wondering how best to approach the situation. Before he had a chance to think, however, something grabbed at his shirt. The collar tugged his neck downwards, head lowering towards the ground, his eyes turned to face the girl below him and OH MY GOD...!

MJ’s lips met his.

Though it lasted for mere seconds, Peter could feel his body exploding like fireworks. Electricity zapping through his veins, fogging up his brain and relaxing every bone in his body. As she pulled away and he opened his eyes, it was like the room had been blasted with a bright light. There was a shine in his gaze, adoration reflecting through his pupils. He gently brushed the hair from her face and smiled down at her, before lowering his head for another soft kiss.

He fell right into her trap.

As their lips connected, MJ slowly reached for her weapon and plunged it through Peter’s soft, mossy brown curls. She could feel his mouth contort into a helpless giggle of betrayal as he pulled away and fell to her right. He playfully batted her hand away and sat upright to recover.

“You jerk.” He laughed, giving her a playful shove.

“You started it, asshole.” She smirked, shoving him right back. 

The pair locked eyes for a moment, a spark flickering between them, before launching into another round of tickle attacks again.

Ah, young love.

[ticklishfiend]

Yay!! I love your fics and I’m excited to give you a prompt! Maybe Sero gets stuck in his own tape so Kirishima and Kaminari take advantage of finding out he’s ticklish when they try to get him free? Loved your last few fics by the way! I love all your fics but the last few were extra cute. 😊💖💖

aaahh tysm!! i absolutely adore your blog and all of the fics you post! tysm for this prompt, it was adorable, i love these boys sm lol

Sticky Situation (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Sero / Ler!Kirishima,Ler!Kaminari

Summary : Sero wants some help seeing if he can get out of his own tape. When he realizes he can’t, Kirishima and Kaminari just can’t help but take advantage of his little predicament.

Word Count :  1373

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

“And you’re positive this is safe?” Kirishima asked as he used the last bit of tape Sero extended to them to stick said black-haired boy to the wall. Both of Sero’s arms were stretched out beyond his sides, taped up to the wall spread-eagle style, Denki taking final precautionary measures by flattening the tape against his legs.

“Totally, man, I’ve done this to people tons of times!” Sero answered reassuringly, tugging at his arms to make sure he couldn’t escape. “I just need to make sure that if my tape is ever used against me, I can figure a way out of it myself. Wouldn’t be super heroic for a villain to trap me using my own quirk.”

“Makes sense,” Denki nodded, stepping back to admire his and Kiri’s handiwork. “So, uh...how do you plan on getting out exactly?” 

Sero grinned widely. “Like...this!” Sero tugged harshly against his tape, pulling at his legs and arms for freedom.

He didn’t even budge.

“Uh...I mean...like...THIS!” he tried again, rougher this time, his neck twisting as all his muscles pulled and writhed trying to free himself from his own bindings. The strained noises escaping his throat made Kiri raise a brow questioningly, before Denki burst into his own fit of laughter, clutching his stomach.

“Holy shit! He’s stuck!” Denki cackled, pointing towards the raven haired teen who finally slumped against the wall with an exasperated sigh.

“Quit laughing, you idiot! I can get out of this! I’ve just gotta…” Sero tried twisting his arms this time, attempting to create some friction between his skin and the sticky texture of his tape. This only resulted in a gross burning sensation on his arms, so he tried flapping his arms up and down this time. This only made him look more like an idiot than he already did.

Kiri couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy’s predicament. “Doesn’t seem like you’re gettin’ any further there, buddy,” Kiri grinned, making Denki snort beside him. “Let’s just get you down from there before you hurt yourself.”

Sero sighed, looking away from his friends embarrassingly. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Denki swiped a final laugh-induced tear from his own eye before walking towards Sero pinned to the wall, trying to unstick the tape from his arms. Sero hissed at this, his face wincing in discomfort, making Denki pull away fast.

“Shit, ow, wait don’t do that,” Sero said, clenching his fist a little at the pain. “Feels like your waxing my fucking arm hairs off.”

“Let’s try pulling him from the middle,” Kiri suggested, squeezing Sero’s sides in an attempt to pull. Sero’s torso jerked, the boy letting out a small yelp. Kiri pulled away instantly, thinking he had hurt the boy like Denki had.

“Oh, sorry man I didn’t mean to hurt-”

“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. Just, uh...felt kinda funny,” Sero said without looking directly at Kiri. Denki only raised a brow at this.

“Funny. Like...ticklish funny?” the blonde offered with a smirk, poking a quick finger into the boys ribs. Sero let out a high-pitched “Ah!” his torso trying to twist away from the prodding appendage.

“Ohoho, I see. Someone’s a little sensitive~” Kiri teased, wiggling his fingers in the air menacingly in front of Sero’s body. Sero’s eyes went wide, his struggles against his own bonds becoming a little more panicked.

“Guys, wait, please, don’t do this, I can’t take it-”

“Sure you can, Spidey! Maybe you’ll even squirm enough to worm your way outta this mess, huh?” Denki giggled, wiggling his index finger into Sero’s exposed underarm. Sero jerked with a yelp again, but when the sensation didn’t let up this time, small tittters started escaping his lips.

“Denki! Nohoho!” Sero pleaded, his eyes looking like a begging puppy’s.

“Denki yes!~” Denki retorted, adding all five of his fingers to wiggle into the sensitive pit. Sero giggled harder at this, his eyes squeezing shut in mirth. Kirishima decided he wanted in on some of the fun himself, lifting up Sero’s shirt just enough to scratch his nails against Sero’s wiggling lower belly. The boy sucked his stomach in as much as he could, but his overflow of now even higher-pitched giggles practically made his stomach tickle itself on Kirishima’s fingers.

“GAHAHAHA! NAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHA!” Sero cackled, throwing his head back against the wall, arms tugging uselessly against his bonds. Kirishima chuckled at the boy’s torment.

“Aww, whatsa’ matter Sero? We’ve barely even done anything!” Kiri teased, moving his fingers over towards the boy's sides, the boy’s torso shaking as his giggles frantically pushed out of his chest.

“I know, right? Poor guy’s so ticklish we barely have to touch him to get him to lose it,” Kaminari smiled, his right hand continuing it’s gentle but torturous assault on his armpit, while the other travelled to poke around his upper ribs. That sent a jolt through Sero’s body, his giggles turning to small yips and screeches. His nose was scrunched and his smile was so wide it practically ripped his face in half, eyes shut tight and he giggled helplessly.

“AHAH NAHAHA! NOT THAHAT!” Sero cackled as Denki turned to poking his ribs on both sides, playing them like a toddler would play a piano, sporadic pokes leaving the boy to jerk and writhe under his playful touch. “KAMIHIHI! IT TIHIHICKLES!”

“Aw, it does? What about this, does this tickle?~” Kirishima teased as he switched his gentle scratches to playful squeezes on the boy’s hips. Sero guffawed, doubling his body over as much as it could go in the bound position he was in. 

“OH GOHOHOD! PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN’T!” Sero pleaded and cackled, his knees bouncing up and down in a mock attempt to kick his legs out. Kirishima noticed this, and experimentally squeezed at one of his thighs.

Sero screamed.

“AHAHAH! NOHOHO! NOT MY THIIHIGHS! PLEHEHEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHIHIHING!” Sero begged through fits of hysterical laughter, his eyes opening to stare at the redhead in plead.

“Aw, but Sero, I can’t just miss an opportunity like this!” Kirishima giggled, moving both his hands to squeeze up and down the boy’s lean but tender thighs. Sero’s laughter reached a new level of hysterical. It was loud and boisterous, his knuckles turning white from how hard he clenched them out beyond his sides. Denki pinched at his ribs with no mercy, and Sero could barely hold on.

“PLEHEHEASE! GUHUYS! I CAHAHAN’T! IT’S SO BAHAHAD! TICKLES SO BAHAHAD!” Sero laughed, pulling even harder at his bindings. His tormentors were too caught up giggling along with their ticklish victim to hear the sound of tape unsticking to the wall in front of them. Sero tugged and pulled as he wiggled subconsciously, his sensitive body just trying to get itself away from the playful torment being put upon itself. Then-

-RIIIIP!-

Sero fell on top of the boys unceremoniously with a yelp and a loud thud, all three of them falling to the floor in a heap of giggles.

“That was so mehehean!” Sero clutched his stomach as he rolled on the floor, still giggling from the previous assault and from the hilarious fall they had all just taken.

“Sorry man, it was too easy not to,” Denki chuckled, laughing as he stood himself up from the floor. He offered two hands to the giggling boys on the floor, pulling them up with a huff.

Once up and off the floor, the boys noticed that Sero still had tape on his arms. He whined as he realized what he was gonna have to do. 20 minutes and a lot of whines and cries of pain later, Sero finally got all the tape off his arms, even if he did have to sacrifice some arm hair in the process. 

“At least now you know how to get yourself out of your own tape! Just a couple tickles and you’re all good to go!” Kaminari smiled brightly at Sero who was rubbing at his now red and blotchy arms, the raven-haired boy not amused at his comment.

“I’ll get you both back for this, just you wait,” Sero said with a roll of his eyes. Yeah, he was definitely gonna get them for this. Too easy not to.

. . .

A /N : sorry if this was a little short! im trying not to overwork myself rn haha, hope you enjoyed it tho!! much love!! <33 

[freebooter4ever]

Sledgefu Pirate Au pt 5?

In which Eugene saves Snafu (again) and they lead the Governor’s troops on a chase, get tossed in jail, and end up at the OMM ball. This got RIDICULOUSLY long, and a bit goofy, I’m so sorry. @persipneiwrites I hope this still fits within your awesome AU and I didn’t go too totally off the rails ^_^ at some point we need to put this on ao3 as like a collab, my friend.

(Eugene has just visited Snafu in jail the night before he’s sentenced to hang as a pirate. He gave Snafu his ring to prove he will come save him, which I turned into a family ring rather than a USMC ring since I don’t know if the marines existed in the 1700′s? Also, Snafu wears a costume inspired by the Order Of Osiris which was Mobile’s first united Mystic Society for all LGBQT. Technically it wasn’t formed till the 1980s but I couldn’t resist. And that’s pretty much the extent of the research I did for this crack fic. Also I completely got their ages mixed up/the timeline of when Merriell joined the service, it’s hard to find info on the real background of Merriell and Eugene, but this way these characters are totally divided from the living heroes. Just fiction here! I gave Merriell a bit of my grandpa’s backstory cause the real history of his parents and sister is just too heartbreaking, I don’t know how to write that)

As Snafu stands on the raised platform, waiting to die, he reflects on his life. There isn't much enthusiasm in the act. None of his lofty dreams came to fruition. And he honestly never expected them to. This short drop and sudden stop, a brutal end to a mostly exhausting life, is exactly what he had anticipated.

One thing is unusual however. In the past, whenever he imagined the day of his death, of all the possible scenarios, a marching band never featured into any of them.

He always assumed he'd go out fighting in a blaze of guts and glory, not with instruments ringing in his ears. 

The steady beat of drums does lend a sort of importance to the day. It gives Snafu something to focus on, other than the fact that his hands are tied, his stomach is empty, and his brain wants to be anywhere but here.

Eugene Sledge clearly doesn't want to be here either.

The man is conspicuously absent. Snafu twists his ring around his finger, spiraling it tighter and tighter in towards his palm. The sharp sting takes away the ache in his chest. He feels Sledge's absence like a physical blow.

Snafu knows he shouldn't have Gene's ring on. One mistaken flap of his hand and the Governor might recognize his own signet on a condemned man's finger. Not that the hell Snafu is currently in could get any worse, but if the ring is recognized then Sledge might be in for hell too. 

Yet he can't bring himself to take the ring off.

He did turn the damn thing around so the large jeweled seal is pressing into the palm of Snafu's clenched fist. To any casual observer the ring looks like a plain gold band. No one will know. Snafu will see to that.

Still protecting the damn idiot boy who throws himself into danger just because it's the right thing to do.

Snafu, on the other hand, usually picks the wrong thing to do. As the executioner so calmly points out while he reads aloud Snafu's list of crimes for the crowd to judge.

Snafu never imagined being important in death. He lived his life with little fanfare, and thought he'd go out the same - as some unknown seaman with scurvy or battle wounds or water in his lungs. 

But the list of his deeds makes it sound like he's had an impact on this world. The loud boom of the drums corroborate this weighty importance. The crowd gathering beneath his feet is there not to see a pirate, but to see him specifically. To witness the final end of Captain Snafu, who got caught up in circumstances bigger than his own life and paid the final price for it.

As his final moment draws closer, Eugene's empty place on the dias next to his father remains blindingly stark. At the beginning of the executioner's long speech, Snafu still had hope. Now, he can't even glance over at the governor and his cronies. He knows Sledge isn't there. And he doesn't want to see it.

Instead he looks to the sky. The hour is a little before dawn, so a few pinpricks of stars are still visible. There's a line of them, marching upwards, away from the stage, that he'd like to follow.

If he had to be famous, he'd rather it be for having a constellation named after him, than for his bones and hat, and a sign with his name on it, hanging rotting from a gibbet.

Snafu rolls his eyes closed and the floor beneath him drops.

He falls.

Surprisingly, he hits the ground. It shoots pain up his legs and he collapses on his side, but that makes it easier for him to look up and see what the fuck happened.

The last thing he expects is Sledge balanced precariously on the platform above him, desperately trying to dislodge his sword from the wooden gallows where he sliced the rope in two.

It almost doesn't look like Sledge. The man's face is half covered by Snafu's lucky hat. Sledge's large nose is the dead giveaway, sticking out by half a mile. Snafu'd recognize that nose anywhere.

Snafu smirks, thinking about the old wive's tale regarding feet and size, and that a more accurate version for Sledge would be the measure of that nose of his.

"Shit, shit, shit," Eugene curses with every tug, glaring at the sword as if it's the sword's fault for getting stuck. He glares with that little purse of wrinkled concentration between his brows. Which Snafu enjoys so very much.

With one final violent jerk, Eugene manages to free his sword from it's prison. But the movement knocks him off balance and he tumbles through the same hole Snafu fell down.

Luckily Snafu is already there to soften his fall. Eugene lands on his back, spread eagle atop the pirate.

"Get your pointy elbow out of my gut," Snafu grumbles, trying to wriggle away.

Eugene hastily rolls off, and crouches beside him. Their eyes meet for a moment, and magically all of Snafu's troubles evaporate. Every thought flies out of his brain, like maybe nothing sensical ever existed there in the first place. Nothing else exists except the slight shock of coming face to face with someone who desperately wants to look at him as much as he wants to look at them.

Someone who has risked his entire life to save Snafu's ass.

Again.

Reality crashes back down on them pretty quick when the executioner's ax falls between their bodies.

Both their heads swivel to the ax in surprise, and then to each other. As if accusing the other for being distracted. 

"Nice of you to finally drop in," Snafu drawls, "Lucky I did so much shit in my life that the long list gave you the extra time." He leans back on his elbow and tries to look as seductive as possible even with both hands tied behind his body.

Eugene scowls, "Nice of you to be so grateful."

Snafu's smile widens gleefully, "Nice of you to wear your best hat."

Eugene's eyes roll upwards towards Snafu's lucky hat's brim. Eugene's scowl deepens as if he only just remembered that he is wearing the monstrosity. He drags it off his head unceremoniously.

Snafu gets one glorious glimpse of the worst case of ginger hat hair he's ever seen before his vision goes dark.

Not because he's blacked out but because Eugene drags the hat forcefully down over Snafu's head and the brim covers his face. Which wouldn't be a problem except that Snafu's hands are literally tied behind his back and he can't push the hat out of his eyesight.

"Gene, not to complain or anything…" Snafu starts.

Eugene says nothing, he focuses entirely on cutting the ropes binding Snafu's wrists as quickly as possible.

Snafu feels the tension of the rope give when Eugene finally breaks through.

The first thing he does is adjust his hat's position and secure the tie under his chin so he can get a better look at Eugene's wonderfully wild hair. The second thing he does with his newfound freedom is grab Eugene's hand and hold on tight like it's the only thing that matters in the world.

They run.

Snafu is faster, and navigates crowds and small spaces easier, so it's mostly him dragging Eugene along. He thinks they're making it, that they'll successfully get away, until a bullet wizzes past his shoulder too close to his head. He yanks Eugene into the nearest alley and they duck behind a giant cart.

"They're shooting at us?" Eugene exclaims incredulously.

Snafu eyes him, "What'd you expect?"

"I… my father wouldn't…" Eugene sputters.

A voice in the distance yells "Ceasefire! For God's sake…!"

Another volley of shots and then the voice yells again "...do not fire on my son!"

The alley goes quiet.

"Eugene, son, please surrender. You can come out peacefully. Captain Haldane is prepared to take you both into custody, there will be a trial."

Eugene and Snafu look at each other.

They're trapped in the alley. It leads to a dead end with a giant wooden fence and absolutely no toeholds.

Snafu presses himself against the wall to try and peer through the crack between the cart and the brick, and he almost stumbles over an iron cellar door.

"Sledgehammer..." he whispers.

Together they wordlessly lift the door open and slip inside. The cellar is dark. It takes a minute for their eyes to adjust from the harsh sun. Snafu makes sure to lock the door behind them. And then he turns.

And finds Eugene standing in the middle of the room rifling through a giant crate. He holds a pink lace parasol in one hand and lifts a brand new muzzle-loaded rifle with the other.

"Looks like smugglers were either trying to sneak weapons into the city in boxes of petticoats, or sneak the ugliest dresses known to man into the city under the guise of weaponry. Hard to tell which is worse," Eugene says, deadpan.

"Eugene, no…" Snafu admonishes, approaching and taking the parasol from his hand, "Pink is not your color, ginger." He swaps the pink parasol for a muted sea grey one.

"No, you keep that one," Eugene shakes his head and hands the grey parasol back to Snafu, barely suppressing his smile, "It matches your eyes."

Snafu grins, snapping open the parasol and twirling it on his shoulder. Eugene leans in closer to him, a hand at Snafu's waist, like he can't resist.

A muffled yell from outside interrupts them, and they both hastily crouch low to the ground.

Snafu carefully climbs to the tiny window grate at street level and listens.

"I think your father is still trying to negotiate with you," he whispers to Eugene, "No one realizes we've moved. Idiots."

He turns to Eugene to discover the man dressed in the most god awful brown frock Snafu has ever seen. The dress has orange and yellow trimmings and clashes with Eugene's hair, like a sunset gone horribly wrong smeared over day old shit.

"Orange ain't your color either, boo," Snafu says mournfully. Eugene might've looked really nice in the powder blue dress Snafu can see peeking out of a bottom crate.

"Here, I found one for you," Eugene says matter-of-fact-ly, tossing a red bundle at him.

"Well at least one of us will match your hair," Snafu comments as he catches it and grimaces with distaste.

They spend the next minute strapping themselves into uncomfortable garments and a single petticoat layer to hang low and cover their boots. Snafu slows them down somewhat when he insists on strapping as many rifles as he can to his legs beneath the skirts.

"Waste not," he says with a wink when Eugene raises an eyebrow at him.

Snafu fills the dress's puffed sleeves with bags of bullets.

Ultimately their getup makes it awful hard to move, but Snafu figures ladies are always having trouble doing anything more complicated than walking in their outfits anyway, so them mincing their steps will hardly stand out as unusual.

They sneak to the ground floor of the building and pause to listen at the front door.

"Okay, plan. We open the parasols as we open the door, and hurry in the opposite direction, like we're afraid," Snafu whispers.

Eugene nods, daintily twisting his pink parasol in his grip.

Snafu nods back. And then pulls Eugene in for a passionate kiss against the door.

Can't give up his last chance to feel Gene sigh softly against him and all that. If this is his last.

"I love you…" Gene mumbles against Snafu's lips.

Snafu's eyes widen. He gropes for the door handle behind his back and throws it wide open, causing them both to stumble out onto the street. 

Good a time as any to get this game started.

Their parasols pop open and they duck underneath the frilly lace.

Eugene titters in a grating fake falsetto voice that makes Snafu want to stamp on his toes. But the disguise works. The Governor's soldiers ceasefire and Snafu and Sledge run, skip, and hobble down the street towards the docks.

When they hit the wood of the decks and can dare to lift the parasols above their faces, the very first thing Snafu sees is the bright splendor of the Santa Alma's sails. The most beautiful sight in the world, floating only fifty feet away.

Next Snafu sees the second most beautiful sight in the world. A beauty that makes him stop short in his tracks: Eugene Sledge shedding his ugly brown orange shell and clambering into a skiff wearing nothing but his green velvet trousers. Rich and soft, the kind of fabric a man could run his hands over for hours.

And Snafu decides then and there that green is definitely Eugene's color.

"Snaf, jump!" Eugene reaches out towards him.

Except Snafu doesn't have time to jump because right at that moment a bullet rips between his legs, shoots a hole through his petticoat, and nearly hits one of the rifles pressed against his bare skin. Snafu immediately stops - frozen like his balls in the Antarctic during that one memorable sailing expedition.

"Hands where I can see them," Captain Haldane tells Shelton, "And Eugene, if you could please step out of that boat real slowly."

Alarmingly Haldane is using the same tone of voice on both of them. Almost friendly...kind...and mildly amused.

Snafu is surprised the man didn't just shoot Snafu on sight and deal with the emotional fallout from Eugene later.

Eugene calmly climbs out of the skiff and shuffles over beside Snafu. He stands tall and stiff as a board, as if he has something to prove.

"Hands out," Haldane orders Snafu mildly.

Snafu sticks out his wrists and lolls his head in a petulant stare.

Haldane gently clasps him in irons.

"Ack Ack, you can't arrest this man," Eugene protests.

"He has to follow orders or he'll be court-marshalled," Snafu reminds Eugene.

"Your friend's right, Sledge," Haldane says, "But I can also see to it that he receives a fair trial."

"Snafu's not my friend," Eugene snaps and then falters, "He's my...Captain."

"That what we're calling it these days?" Snafu grins and knocks his hips against Gene who blushes furiously.

Eugene continues speaking as if he didn't hear Snafu, "Ack Ack, the things I've seen...the way the law treats sailors...I don't know if I trust the courts…"

"Eugene, what were you thinking?" a woman snaps behind them. The sound of smartly heeled boots clips closer and closer down the dock.

Eugene visibly winces at his mother's voice.

Both her and the Governor arrive, surrounded by crisply uniformed soldiers.

"You can't run off like a boy anymore, Gene," his mother says.

"You're mother's right," Governor Sledge agrees, "What you did today must have consequences. Captain Haldane, have you secured the pirate?"

"Not quite," Haldane responds with amusement, "He is still armed, sir."

"Armed? In that dress?"

"Underneath it, I believe, sir."

"Well then," Governor Sledge sighs, "Divest this young man of his...armory."

Captain Haldane nods and starts untying the laces on the back of Snafu's gown. He strips off the overskirt, and petticoats, leaving Snafu standing bare legged in the most raggedy underwear he owns. Eugene standing next to him swallows with great difficulty.

Haldane then begins to slowly cut away the ties holding the rifles to Snafu's body. It's only when the last gun falls away that Snafu feels truly naked.

"Better check the sleeves too, Skipper," Snafu grins maliciously.

Haldane cuts off the bodice. As soon as the man's knife slices through a sleeve, bullets rain down onto the deck like it's hurricane season.

In the end all Snafu's got left is his underwear and the same ratty shirt he thought he was going to die in.

"Shame you had to ruin the dress," Snafu drawls, "Fit me so well."

"Take him away," Governor Sledge orders.

"No!" Eugene demands and puts himself between Haldane and Snafu.

"Eugene…!" his mother is shocked.

Eugene draws himself up and takes a deep breath, "I killed the Royal Navy commander of the Dauntless while acting as a pirate. If you are going to hang Snafu, you better hang me too."

Snafu is too shocked to breathe.

Eugene's father looks grim. "Arrest them both," he says.

The mother faints.

Captain Haldane quietly gestures for Eugene to extend his arms.

That shakes Snafu into action, "No!" he shoves Eugene out of the way, "That's not how it happened. Gene is innocent."

The mother, who had been starting to come round, promptly faints into her servant's arms again at Snafu's familiar use of Eugene's nickname.

Everyone else, including Haldane, ignores him.

"Snaf…" Eugene says warningly.

"No…." Snafu is shaking his head at him in exasperation.

They're both marched up the docks towards the fort.

"No!" Snafu repeats as he stumbles along behind Haldane, "no…"

Eugene goes silently. Willingly.

And it makes Snafu mad as hell.

They're brought to the same cell Snafu thought he'd never see again on account of being dead by morning. 

In front of the cell door they're delayed.

"What's the hold up, Mac?" Haldane asks the warden.

"The master key's run off, no one can find it," Mac shrugs.

"Then find the individual key," Haldane patiently states the obvious.

"I have my best men on it," the warden smiles.

"They seem to be taking a long time, you best go help them Mackenzie," Haldane says.

The man rolls his eyes, but he disappears further into the fort.

"Ack Ack, please, let us go," Eugene requests as soon as the three of them are alone, "We'll leave port. Snafu's ship is set to sail. You can make it look like an escape. No one will know."

"I'm sorry, Sledge," Haldane says, and he sounds genuinely upset. He casually unlocks the irons on both Eugene and Snafu's wrists. It's a gesture of trust Snafu would never have considered had their places been switched.

Snafu stands, fidgeting awkwardly with his underwear and feeling like a third wheel.

Eugene calmly reaches down, grabs Snafu's fidgety hand, and twines their fingers together. He leans into Snafu's shoulder and murmurs, "Pull on that rag anymore and soon you'll be giving everyone a show."

"Like you'd complain," Snafu retorts.

Snafu tries his best to stand still. Though he's grateful Eugene doesn't release his hand.

Haldane observes them with a knowing expression. "Be careful boys," he warns.

They wait in silence the rest of the time it takes Mackenzie to find a key.

"Hey boys," the warden returns and waggles a key in Snafu's face, "you're in luck, I found the small key." 

Snafu casts his eyes to the ceiling.

With a compassionate goodbye, Captain Haldane leaves them to their fate.

The cell door is unlocked and Mackenzie shoves them both in.

A small mercy - keeping them together - or an act of necessity in a relatively small fort, Snafu doesn't know. When the door closes and locks behind them the only thing he focuses on is Eugene's hand in his.

"Looks like it's all over for you two," Mackenzie says, leaning against the cell door. He says it casually, as if trying to start a conversation with an old buddy.

Eugene cuts his eyes to the man outside the cell.

"Sort of a… what do you do now, huh?" Mackenzie's smile is slimy, yet almost genuine. The type of man who can't imagine a life or mind more complicated than his own.

It draws a stark comparison between the supercilious warden versus naive pretty boy Sledge, who's world started out equally as narrow, but who was determined to learn. And to change.

"Here," Mackenzie passes a bottle of rum through the bars, "Everybody deserves a last meal."

"Thank you, sir," Eugene grits out, ever the polite gentleman.

"What an idiot," Snafu says under his breath as he watches the warden leave.

If it weren't for Eugene clinging to his hand in a death grip Snafu might wonder if being alive was worth being back under this asshole's thumb.

Of course, technically it's Eugene's fault for landing Snafu in jail a second time. Otherwise he could be peacefully decomposing right now.

As soon as they are alone Snafu slips out of Eugene's grasp and crosses the cell to the outermost wall. There's a window, high above, nearly level with the ceiling, and Snafu worked out the climbing path on the stone the last time he was trapped in this godforsaken place.

Eugene watches silently as Snafu expertly scales the rock.

Snafu knows Eugene could easily follow. He's seen the boy monkey up rigging enough times to realize that when it comes to heights, Eugene shares the same lack of self preservation sense as Snafu.

But this time Eugene lets him go it alone.

Snafu eases his ass onto the three foot deep window ledge cut into the wall and presses his face against the bars. If he squints he can almost make out the sails of the ships down at the dock. They blur together, though, becoming one massive fluttering speck, like a caught moth.

He sighs, and leans his head back against the wall. There is no way he could recognize the Santa Alma from here even if she did escape in time. When he glances down, he sees Eugene still standing in the same place, staring up at him.

"Take a seat, we'll be here awhile," Snafu drawls, closing his eyes, getting comfortable.

Eugene huffs. But Snafu also hears him drop into the pile of straw in the corner.

"I am aware we will be here awhile, Snaf," Eugene snaps, "I may have never been in a jail cell before, but I do understand the general operating principle."

"Could'a fooled me," Snafu drawls, "The way you were tripping all over yourself to get in here."

"I…" Sledge hesitates yet somehow his voice is still firm, "I told the truth."

"Truth'll get you killed," Snafu says, "And it ain't reality, anyway."

"I did kill the commander, Snaf," Eugene argues.

"You didn't have a choice…"

"I did! I made my choices and I won't take them back."

"You were following my lead...I put you in that situation...your choice was a matter of survival…"

"Snaf, I killed to defend your life. That was my choice. I'd do it again, and I will accept the punishment befitting the crime. I won't let you shoulder all the sins of the world yourself. Especially not mine."

Snafu knocks his head against the wall again out of frustration, and falls into silence. He fiddles with a loose pebble, and then tosses it out the window, watches it splash in the water below.

"Next time my life is in danger and you feel like playing the hero, don't," Snafu spits out.

"You don't get to make that choice," Eugene says, sounding arrogantly pleased with himself at having won this particular conversation.

The next pebble Snafu tosses hits Eugene on the head instead. It bounces off harmlessly.

"Hey!" Eugene exclaims, tilting his head back to glare at Snafu.

Snafu grins.

Eugene folds his arms and shrinks further into the straw.

They sit in silence for what feels like an age. Emotions keep itching under Snafu's skin, and he knows what he wants, but he doesn't know how to get it, or if he even deserves it if he does get it. Snafu watches the sails outside the window come and go freely in the open air to distract himself.

At some point Eugene falls asleep. He sleeps fitfully, with a lot of twitching, but deep enough that Eugene fails to hear the soft clatter of paws on the tile floor.

Snafu silently slides down from his perch and greets Deacon at the cell door. The first thing Snaf does is pocket the offered gift hanging from Deacon's mouth. He sticks both hands through the bars and thanks the puppy by giving him extra scritches.

"Good boy," Snafu whispers as quiet as he can.

His voice wakes Eugene up anyway.

"Shelton?" he asks, groggy, "Deacon?" Eugene pushes himself to his feet and crouches near Snafu, but when he reaches through the bars Deacon ignores Eugene in favor of the pirate.

"I'm his favorite now," Snafu taunts with glee, "We bonded last night. He came and slept right outside my door."

"Only cause I sent him to stand guard," Eugene protests, looking a little jealous. "Isn't that right, Deacon?" he asks the dog as Deacon finally moves from Snaf's hands to Eugene's, "You're a loyal dog."

Snafu leans against the cell door, hand on a hip, and watches Deacon try to lick Eugene's face.

"I'm sorry, Sledgehammer," Snafu says.

"What for?" Eugene asks, looking perplexed.

Snafu shrugs and climbs back up to his window perch. He curls his legs up to his chest and rests his head on his knees.

Eugene heaves a sigh. "Snaf, please stop pouting and stay down here. With me."

"I ain't the one with those thin pursed lips," Snafu taunts, "You look more like the pouting type to me."

Eugene turns bright red - a blush almost as endearing as his little annoyed expression.

"Fine," Eugene says shortly, "Stay up there."

If Snafu climbs down, he'll kiss Gene, and if he kisses him, he might hold him, and if he holds him, Snafu might fall asleep in his arms, and if Snafu falls asleep it's going to be a lot harder to do what needs to be done.

He stays seated at the window and maintains his watch.

Eugene sits against the cell door with one hand stuck through the bars, resting on Deacon's fur.

"I ain't from New Orleans," Snafu confesses, just to fill the silence.

"What?" Eugene looks up, startled, "What do you mean?"

"I'm from northern Louisiana. Born in a one room shack, youngest of nine, took baths in the metal laundry basin, I was always the last with the water so always smelled the worst. Ma died having me, Pa died twelve years later in an accident with a farm gate, I hopped a river boat south, starved on the streets of New Orleans till I stowed away on a navy ship," Snafu says quietly, "Nearly starved there too."

He isn't paying attention to Eugene's movements, so he doesn't notice till it's too late and suddenly Gene is heaving himself up onto the window ledge next to Snafu. Eugene settles in his seat and stares hard as if daring him to protest.

"You deserve better," Eugene says with conviction.

"Oh yeah?" Snafu smiles, "You gonna give me better? Going to pull me out of the dirt and let my siblings rot? Some of them are already rotting. Literally. Six feet under. Can't do nothin for them."

"I know I can't but…"

"They're all just as much poor cannon fodder as I am," Snafu continues, "Not much use except as bodies in a count."

"I don't know any of your siblings…"

"Lucky me then, to be someone you know…"

"Snafu, give it a rest. You're being difficult."

"I'm being honest," Snafu throws Eugene's own words back in his face, harsh.

Eugene grabs his hand, and presses his fingertips against the ring on Snafu's finger.

"Maybe I can't save the world, but I can save you," Gene says softly.

"I'm going to free the world," Snafu counters confidently, with a smile that stretches his face but doesn't reach his eyes, so burdened with the impossibility of his life goals, "That's what freebootin' is all about. The first sign you're ready for piracy: you have a desperate need for freedom."

"I don't understand…"

"You already have it," Snafu says, "That freedom. Bought, paid for, and born into it. Don't need to go looking for it. Waste of your time."

Eugene narrows his eyes. He leans back, takes Snafu's hand with him. He holds Snafu's clenched fist gingerly in his lap. Eugene's thumb trails circles around the base of Snafu's palm. Snafu's skin is particularly sensitive there and every pass of Eugene's calloused thumb sends distracting pulses straight down Snafu's spine.

"Why do you think I was on that shipwreck you pulled me out of in the first place?" Eugene asks.

"Gene…"

"I signed on to Mobile's navy to help people. To keep the port secure. I wasn't going to just sit around and watch while everyone I cared about made sacrifices that I'd never need to face. While everyone else became...cannon fodder," he spits the last word out with shame.

"Gene...'"

"So, yeah. I'd help you free the world. If you'd let me," Eugene concludes.

"Sledgehammer, I'm always gonna end up here," Snafu argues, "One way or the other, I'll get caught. One day it'll stick."

"Not today, it won't."

"Tomorrow, then."

"Not tomorrow either if I…"

"Look into my eyes, and tell me…" Snafu interrupts. He leans forward, pushing into Eugene's space, "...someday if they condemn me and pardon you, are you gonna be able to sit by and watch? Cause no matter what happens between here and there, that's how I'll end."

The hand circling his wrist goes still, limp.

"I'm dying, Sledge," Snafu concludes.

Eugene stares into Snafu's eyes for half a heartbeat, and then closes the short distance between them. Gene drags a hand through Snafu's curls and kisses him like their life depends on it.

And Snafu would be hard pressed to say this isn't what he wanted.

"Promise me," Eugene whispers in between kisses, "Promise me you will accept my choice to die beside you."

Snafu nods mutely and cups his hands around Gene's face.

Eugene pulls Snafu bodily into his lap, which is a little dangerous with them being ten feet off the ground. But Snafu supposes he's set to die anyway, and cracking his head open by falling off a ledge mid pleasure seems like a better way to go than his other option. Besides, up here, they're hidden from view.

When they're finished, a little messy, a little sticky, and having a hell of a time shuffling back into their clothes on such a narrow ledge, they climb back down. Sledge goes first. He jumps down, almost eight feet, and hops a little at the bottom. Eugene turns around and stares up at Snaf, his eyes expectant, waiting to help but not offering it.

Snafu skidaddles down, not taking his eyes off Sledge for an instant. Not checking his momentum, he collides bodily with Eugene, who catches Snafu in his arms and kisses him. Again. If Snafu's going to make a fool out of himself, might as well see it through to the end.

They fall into the straw together, and Sledge holds him close. He finds his ring on Snafu's hand and carefully twists it on Snafu's finger so the black jeweled front is on display for the world. Snafu twines their fingers together and rests his forehead against Gene's, who closes his eyes.

Snafu almost laughs. For the first time since he met Eugene, the boy's breath stinks. Guess no one, not even the Governor's son, gets to meticulously clean their teeth in a jail cell. Snafu gingerly kisses the tip of Gene's nose.

The nose twitches, and this time Snafu actually does laugh. Eugene cracks an eye open, sees Snaf smiling at him, and then pulls him in for exaggerated sloppy kisses until Snafu finally settles down calmly, with his head on Gene's shoulder.

Sledge falls asleep wrapped around Snafu as tight as his damn ring.

Some time later a whistle through the window grate wakes Snafu up from foolish daydreams. He's never in his life been more grateful or frustrated to hear Burgie's voice. Snafu carefully lifts Eugene's arm off his waist and slides out of the other man's grasp. He stands up, and watches Eugene's chest rise and fall with every gentle breath. Sledge is so quiet, he could almost be dead.

If Snafu doesn't leave, Sledge will be dead. If Snafu disappears, however, none of the charges against Sledge can stick. Without any evidence or testimony against Eugene, the boy will be safe. Eugene's crazy, misplaced adventure will be forgotten.

Snafu breaks his promise. He drags Eugene's ring off his finger as he leaves. Eugene sleeps on peacefully, unaware, with the ring resting beside his head.

Snafu silently pulls the jail's master key from his inner pocket and slides it through the bars. He deftly unlocks the heavy cell door. The door creaks as it opens and he pauses, his shoulders hunched and eyes on the floor, waiting, listening. When nothing happens he quickly slips through the crack in the door and swings it shut again. He twists the key in the lock once more, and pockets it.

Maybe if they can't open it, Sledge will stay locked away, secure.

When he looks up from the key, he sees Sledge sprawled out across the floor, his head pillowed on a pile of straw.

It takes every bit of self loathing Snafu has to turn around and walk away. He's always been selfish. Never had no one to care for and no one to care for him.

Eugene Sledge is better off without him.

Snafu slips past the guards, steps outside the fort, breathes fresh air again, and there waiting beside a cart is his faithful quartermaster.

For a while, after he escapes jail, the thrill of reuniting with Burgie, his crew, and his ship provides Snafu with enough adrenaline to forget about the ache in his chest. But starting from the first night aboard ship, Snafu's bed is much too large. He takes a tiny corner of it for himself and piles all the pillows around the other half. He doesn't recall it feeling so big before. He never did take up much space himself.

Eugene, though. Eugene would sprawl out like a starfish. Not in the beginning, but once he started trusting Snafu, once he relaxed. And more often than not, Eugene would end up lying half on top of Snafu. His face so close Snafu could count his freckles, and smell his hair.

He tries to imagine Eugene sleeping in the fancy Governor's mansion. He can't picture it somehow. The only image Snafu's brain conjures is of Eugene sleeping in a jail cell, his expression happy knowing Snafu is nearby.

If he dwells on that too much the guilt sets in, so he mostly tries not to think at all.

He succeeds in not thinking about it until he opens one of his older ship logs and finds doodles scribbled on the margins. The drawings are mostly flowers, and ship instruments; tiny and not particularly detailed. Except for one full page sketch, at the very back of his largest logbook.

It's him. In pristine, exacting detail, down to the last curl on his forehead. Soft, and delicately shaded. The lines of the drawing are fine enough to be almost invisible, like he is looking in a black and white mirror.

The Snafu in the drawing is sleeping, which explains how Eugene got away with it without him knowing.

Snafu slams the book closed and drops it under the table. He vows to not look at it again.

Except he does. Often. Whenever he has an extra minute, he takes the book out, and cracks it open, and runs his finger down the page. As if he can touch the artist's hand through the drawing.

He looks at it so often the graphite starts to smudge.

Eventually the ship makes it to Cape Horn, and Snafu finds the tiny canal Eugene wrote about in his journal. They almost make it through the canal, around the tip, and into open water on track for the Pacific. Except the weather turns dangerous and waves lash the side of the boat, sending a cold shock down Snafu's front. Wet, shivering, and remembering a promise Eugene once made, Snafu makes his own decision.

"Turn her around," he tells Burgie.

Burgie sighs, "Snaf...the men will hate this."

"We'll never make it otherwise," Snafu's eyes are luminous and grave, "Not alone. We need more bodies for this."

"We or you can't make it alone?" Burgie asks.

Snafu sucks on his bottom lip and turns his spyglass to the sliver of clear blue sky in the east. Burgie waits patiently for a minute and when nothing but silence is forthcoming, he strides across the deck to give out new orders.

The crew immediately shares their opinion.

"We're going back for our navigator ain't we?"

"Thank goodness."

"Cap'n would get us lost on a river if we let him."

"Always did think the code 'bout leaving crew behind was a bad one."

Burgie smiles.

As luck would have it, the Santa Alma also encounters a spanish merchant ship on it's way home after pillaging the colonies. The pirate schooner swiftly overtakes the slow merchant and the pirates commandeer the entirety of the ship's stolen native gold.

The Santa Alma also acquires a new passenger. A strong minded girl who goes by the name of Florence and nothing else. No family, no friends, and certainly not a part of the merchant's fleet. She claims her destination is some pacific island called Australia but that she's not picky about the journey to get there. Snafu takes her aboard solely to find out more information on this mystery island if nothing else.

Burgie hastily gives up his private cabin for the girl and starts bunking with the crew himself. Until Snafu gets lonely enough to offer room in his bed for Burgie, which is the worst idea ever because suddenly Snafu finds himself being kept up all night having conversations about girls and courting. A subject which Snafu has zero experience in.

"Just kiss her and be done with it," is the only advice Snafu can offer Burgie.

Luckily Burgie quiets down after that suggestion, although it makes Snafu start to worry he might be down one quartermaster soon.

However, nothing appears to change in the next couple of months and by the time the ship reaches Mobile, Burgie and Florence remain as cordial and distantly polite to each other as ever. Snafu gives it up as a lost cause and goes shopping.

"You look ridiculous," Burgie says after spending an hour assisting Snafu with his costume.

The costume is incomplete by Snafu's standards. He couldn't find a proper crown.  And he had to add decorative elements to his crook and flail himself. But luckily these fancy french balls always seem to require people to wear wigs nowadays anyway. He repurposes a portion of his treasure into jewelry and gold plating. And to top it all off, with the help of an especially hairy crew member, Snafu procures a beard long enough to be strung underneath his costume mask.

"I look proper," Snafu jokes to Burgie, using his crook as a dandy cane.

"You look like a royal court jester," Burgie counters, "All that purple and gold."

"Exactly," Snafu says confidently.

"He looks like a gold crusted emu," is Florence's opinion, which puzzles both Snafu and Burgie greatly. "From Australia," she adds. As if that explains anything.

"The breeches might be a little wide, Shit-N-Ass," Leyden comments.

"No one asked you," Snafu retorts.

All that matters is that he will be unrecognizable at Mobile's OMM ball.

His coach is almost unrecognizable too. The leather covering the tiny, odd shaped thing is stained and bleached from the sun. If Snafu holds a candle up to it the shade is nearly a perfect match for Eugene's hair. Except brighter.

"Does it turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" Snafu asks, sneering at the orange color.

"It's either this or the dung cart, Snaf," Burgie says, "You spent the entirety of your treasure allotment on your outfit."

Orange coaches notwithstanding, it's thanks to his expensive drapery that no one blinks twice when Snafu sails past the guards, up the fort steps, and through the entrance. Everyone assumes he is a visiting wealthy gentleman from some distant city, here to experience Mobile's Mardis Gras celebrations. His costume works flawlessly. No one remembers him as the pirate they tried to hang a year ago.

The only downside to everyone being in disguise is that he can't find Eugene.

He doesn't spend long looking inside the fort. It's dusty and suffocating, and Eugene was more the outdoors type anyway. Instead he takes his search to the gardens.

As he walks, Snafu sticks to the shadows. Despite looking the part, he still feels out of place, so he skulks from tree to tree. He avoids the stark yellow light cast by the candle lanterns strung overhead. And only surfaces to peer cautiously around every mile high brushed and powdered wig to see if the person's face matches the one he is looking for.

Of course the person he is looking for is the only person not wearing a wig or mask.

Eugene Sledge's brilliant copper hair sparkles

 under the lantern light. Snafu is momentarily blinded by it the minute he finally recognizes the back of the head he is staring at. Trust Gene to buck convention and attend a ball with a bare head. He is dressed plainly too in comparison to the other party goers. His jacket is unadorned and his trousers are simple cotton. There's a single flower stuck in the lapel of Eugene's coat and Snafu sneaks closer to see if he can recognize it from Eugene's logbook drawings.

Snafu never meant to be creeping around in the dark. And he certainly never meant to eavesdrop on a private conversation.

It starts when a familiar looking, excessively handsome blond man brings Eugene a drink. The man can't be much older than either of them, but he wears his military rank with ease. He lacks a wig as well, but Snafu can hardly blame the man for it, considering how shiny his natural hair is. He and Eugene almost match, somehow. As if they've known each other long enough to become the same person in habit and gesture.

Their open familiarity with each other sends a rush of jealousy down Snafu's throat. He might vomit, if he isn't careful.

When he hears the other man try to cajole Eugene onto the dance floor, Snafu's first reaction is to slink off petulantly into the night. To disappear and never return. His whole body burns, and he finds himself grinning murderously.

But then Sledge says "No".

Sledge says 'no' very stoutly, and his face is mournful. Almost as if he is missing someone.

And the handsome man returns to the dance floor alone.

Something has soured Eugene's enjoyment of the gala's frivolity and splendor. 

Snafu wonders if maybe it was him.

The world of these galas was always a farce, Snafu wants to tell Sledge. The crowd all gentlemen by government decree; the appearance of nobility rather than the act.

This elegance is unsustainable, this generational wealth built on the backs of stolen labor. To exist within it is to be complicit. As far as Snafu can see the only way to escape the monster society created is to run away and not look back.

Run with me, Snafu wants to say, Run with me and we can be free.

He doesn't say any of that, though. He merely holds his chin high, straightens his back, and steps closer till he is directly behind Eugene's shoulder. Snafu removes his mask for this moment. It is crucial Gene recognize him.

He takes a deep breath.

He hesitates because he almost doesn't want to see how Eugene's mood will change. Whether it turns to anger, or frustration, or worse - nothing.

Then he clears his throat. Takes careful note of the way the back of Eugene's neck tenses.

"I only dance when Eugene Sledge wants to dance," Snafu quotes. He mimics Eugene's accent flawlessly, throwing a bit of his own swagger in for good measure.

Eugene slowly turns around. His eyes are wide with shock as they sweep over Snafu's body, from head to toe. He says nothing, but his mouth gapes a little, like a fish.

"Referring to yourself in third person now?" Snafu asks, "Better be careful...that's the second sign of becoming a pirate." He can't bring himself to meet Eugene's eyes, so Snafu watches the other guests strolling through the garden behind Eugene's head.

Sledge's mouth snaps shut. His shock turns into a glare. He steps forward and invades Snafu's space. It's the kind of close proximity a gentleman might instigate in order to challenge him to a duel. Snafu expects to be slapped with a glove.

Instead Sledge snatches Snafu's carefully powdered wig off his head. He throws the poor thing to the ground, stomps on it, and grinds it into the dirt. The embittered frown on Sledge's face never wavers.

"That was very expensive," Snafu drawls conversationally as he stares at the sad deflated mess of grey hair on the ground between them. 

"It looked awful on you," Eugene says bluntly.

"Least it's not my head being flattened," Snafu shrugs, nudging the destroyed wig with a toe. He feigns nonchalance. Inwardly his heart soars, higher than a bird. Sledge still cares. Sledge is angry, but his anger means he still cares.

"Don't tempt me," Eugene snaps.

Snafu finally raises his eyes to meet Eugene's. "Thought I already did that," Snafu says with a challenging grin.

Eugene is taking measured breaths, and his hands are shaking just a tiny bit, like he is holding himself back. "You were not a temptation…" he says, softer and without anger, "You were just...you."

Snafu doesn't know how to respond to that.

"Who are you supposed to be, anyway?" Eugene asks, drawing his eyes up and down Snafu's form, taking in both him and his costume.

Snafu struts a little and holds his mask over his face for Eugene to see, "You can't guess?"

Eugene rolls his eyes, "Some kind of King?"

"Osiris" Snafu says proudly.

"Who?"

"An Egyptian god," Snafu explains, "One who casts judgement on the dead."

"It suits you," Eugene says.

Snafu grins, stands a little taller.

"Especially considering the lack of shirt," Eugene adds snidely.

"The cape and mantle sort of make up for that," Snafu says.

"Yes, that is an impressively vibrant color of dye," Eugene comments. He pulls at the top of the cape and draws it outward, away from Snafu's body to see the sheen of the fabric as it cascades around his hand.

"And this?" Eugene knocks his hand against the wooden staff tucked in Snafu's belt.

"A flail," Snafu says, "To go with my golden crook." He holds out the cane he's been leaning his weight against.

Eugene steps closer, takes the crook, taps it expertly, "Real gold? Business must be going well."

"Booming," Snafu says sarcastically through his teeth.

Eugene chuckles, "Any more Navy ships?"

"Not yet," Snafu replies, "We'll see how tomorrow goes."

Eugene gives Snafu back his crook and tweaks the beard on Snafu's mask instead. Snafu moves the mask away from his face and slips it into his belt alongside the flail.

They're so close, Snafu can smell the tobacco on Eugene's breath. 

'Touch me,' Snafu wants to beg, 'Stop touching my clothing, touch me instead.'

They stand in silence for a time.

Eugene's hands return to his pipe.

Snafu studies the flower attached to Eugene's coat.

"Never seen you draw that flower before," Snafu notes.

"Never had a reason before," Eugene replies.

"What's your reason now?" Snafu eyes him warily.

"Sentimental," Eugene says, "Traveled all the way to the Louisiana swamp looking for someone...didn't find them. But I brought a cutting of these home so I'd have at least something to show for the trip." He pockets his pipe, slips the blue iris off it's clip and holds the flower out to Snafu, "They grow beautifully in my garden at home."

It's identical to the kind of irises that grow in wild bunches around the shack where Snafu was born.

"You saw where I came from?" Snafu asks, nervous.

"I did," Eugene actually smiles. Softly. Fondly, like it was a good thing.

It baffles Snafu to no end, but he tries to take it in stride.

"The shack used to be a chicken coop," Snafu grins back, "Was probably better as a chicken coop."

"There's an alligator living in it now," Eugene holds the flower out for Snafu, "I had to fight it for this."

"How brave." Snafu doesn't take the offered flower. "What were you looking for? In the swamps?" he asks.

Sledge's hand drops to his side. "Damn it, Snaf. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Might help, my spelling is atrocious, you should know better than anyone," Snafu taunts.

"F," Sledge says haughtily, "U...C...K…" he takes another step closer, trodding on Snafu's wig. "Y...O...U…" Sledge doesn't even have to reach to grab the collar of Snafu's jacket, they're so close. "S...H...E...L…"  Sledge closes his lips around the stem of the iris to hold it while he unpins the flower clip from his own coat and pokes it in Snafu's collar instead. The tension around Sledge's mouth forms Snafu's favorite tiny crease between his eyebrows. "T..." Sledge slips the Iris into the clip and smooths the front of Snafu's jacket, "O...N."

"Captain," Snafu corrects, blatantly watching Eugene's lips form each letter.

Gene's eyes flash. He grabs Snafu's collar - forcefully this time - and yanks him into a kiss. Snafu nearly jumps out of his skin in shock.

The kiss lasts less than a second. Snafu shoves Eugene away. His eyes anxiously dart towards the small crowd in the garden. Eugene follows his fearful gaze, and then wraps his long fingers around Snafu's wrist. He drags Snafu through the trees until they come to a hedge maze.

The maze is overgrown. At one point it might have been one of those carefully manicured french monstricities, no bigger than knee height, meant for casual amusement of the European aristocracy, and replicated poorly in the colonies. Now the hedges are well over six feet tall, and thick with tangled branches. Eugene and Snafu barely manage to fit through the entrance.

But the hedges promise privacy.

The air inside the maze is still, and silent, and damp, and slightly cooler than the humid evening around them.

After turning a few corners, Eugene shoves Snafu against a hedge. The bush is prickly, and not at all comfortable, but Snafu finds it hard to care when he is distracted by the press of Eugene's lips, and Eugene's body, and the pleasant intensity of Gene taking all his frustration out on Snafu in ways better than wig destruction.

Without words it feels as if no time passed between tonight and the last they saw each other. Snafu is as familiar with Eugene's body now as he was months ago. Eugene briefly lets go of Snafu's waist to undo his own belt and the buttons of his trousers. Snafu hastily shoves his hand down Eugene's pants himself before the other man can get to it. He breaks off their kiss, chest heaving, to lean back against the bush and curl his fingers around Gene's dick. Eugene braces a hand on either side of Snafu's head and hovers there. He makes a small, strangled noise when Snafu's hand starts to move, but he doesn't look away. Snafu's mouth goes dry and he hardly dares to breathe for fear of breaking whatever the fuck this moment is.

Slowly, he jerks him off, staring into Eugene's dark eyes the whole while.

Eugene makes a complete mess of his pants. He buttons his doublet closed, and smoothes it neat, before hungrily reaching for the red sash wrapped around Snafu's waist.

After a fumbling attempt to get Snafu's clothes off (during which Snafu immediately regrets making his costume so complicated - "Don't. It's fine," Snaf mutters with his hand on Eugene's), Eugene gives up and simply grabs Snafu's hips, and collapses towards him in an embrace. Surprised by the sudden switch to calm, Snafu reacts by limply draping his arms over Gene's shoulders, and waiting.

Eugene turns his face into the crook of Snafu's neck and fully encircles his arms around his body. "God, Snaf," he groans.

"Eugene?" Snafu asks.

Eugene doesn't respond. Snafu can feel Gene's eyelashes blinking against his neck where he is hiding his face.

"Gene?" Snafu tries again.

Eugene sighs. He kisses Snafu's bare skin.

"We should talk," Snafu prompts.

Eugene actually laughs. "Now you want to talk," he says without lifting his head.

"S'what I came here for," Snafu says.

"What is it you wanted to say, then?" Eugene asks, leaning back just enough to look Snaf in the eye.

I love you.

"Nothing," Snafu says, "Thought maybe you might. Maybe a few words to get off your chest?"

Eugene smiles sadly, and leans back in to press their lips together briefly. One small kiss and then he rests his forehead against Snafu's.

"Hope. And faith." Eugene murmurs.

"Hm?" Snafu grunts.

"The flower I found. Irises. They symbolize faith," he fumbles that same heavy ring off his finger that Snafu threw back at him, and then slides it onto Snafu's hand for a second time, "I told you to keep it. I meant what I said."

Snafu stares into his eyes, "Gene…I'm sorry."

"I never doubted you," Gene brushes aside his apology.

Something crazy is on the tip of Snafu's tongue and threatening to spill out, so he keeps his jaw clenched tight and his forehead pressed to Gene's. It's enough. This is enough.

"Stay?" Eugene asks.

Snafu fidgets nervously.

"Here. For a few days," Eugene elaborates, "I've taken care of everything. I want you to meet my family, properly. You can even invite the crew."

"Third sign of piracy: extending dinner invitations to pirates," Snafu drawls. He's imagining Burgie's reaction to getting a cream colored, floral embossed card in the mail.

"Privateers. You are an official United States privateer, Captain Shelton," Eugene corrects. He laughs at Snafu's startled expression, "I have the paperwork all drawn up. It's in my room. Waiting for your signature."

"In the mansion…"

"Yes, to do this you'll have to go to the governor's mansion. You might even have to sleep in an actual bed that doesn't rock up and down with the waves."

"That takes all the fun out of sex…" Snafu murmurs.

"I'm sure I can improvise," Eugene kisses his neck with a smile.

"Will you be doing the rocking then?" Snafu quips.

"For as long as you want…" Eugene promises.

Snafu nods and kisses him, tries to quell that ache that's bubbling up inside him again.

Eugene breaks away, grinning ear to ear. He looks at Snafu as if all his prayers have been answered. And who is Snafu to deny him any of it.

So when Eugene takes his hand and leads him out of the maze, Snafu follows.

He is so dazed by an emotion he never thought himself capable of feeling again he almost doesn't notice where Eugene is leading him. Until he recognizes the same inner courtyard where Snafu was condemned to die. 

Snafu stops short. His abrupt halt yanks Eugene back by his arm. Gene turns around and stares at Snafu in confusion. Snafu is preparing to run. His palms are sweaty, and the skin there feels melted to Eugene's, and he's about to twist away and disappear when Eugene's hold on him tightens. 

Eugene is looking Snaf straight in the eye, and he slowly lifts their clasped hands to his lips, "It's all right, Merriell. I promise." 

And in full view of the Governor's entire court, Eugene Sledge bends to kiss Snafu's hand. The same hand Snafu recently stuck down Gene's pants.

No one says anything.

All eyes are on them, though.

Correction, all eyes are on Snafu. His planned ostentatiousness backfires. Eugene notices him, for sure. But so does everyone else.

His costume glows golden in the candlelight. If the glint half blinds him when he moves in the wrong way, he can't imagine how difficult it must be for someone standing across from him.

Snafu grins petulantly when Eugene guides him forward to stand in front of the Governor himself. He can tell Eugene's father recognizes him immediately. The man frowns. He shakes Snafu's hand politely, but he doesn't speak a word.

Surprisingly, it's the Governor's lady who breaks the tension. She eyes her husband calculatingly, sucks in a deep breath, and reaches out to take both of Snafu's hands in hers.

"I want to apologize for the previous case of mistaken identity," She says, regally and with great intent, "As I understand it, Commodore Haldane confused you with the dreadful pirate Snafu. I assure you, Captain Shelton, we will rectify this mistake and will remain forever grateful to you for bringing our Eugene back home alive."

Snafu's eyes slide sharp towards Eugene, realizing for the first time how the boy must have brought about this miracle of clearing his name.

Eugene returns Snafu's stare with a confident grin. He rejoins their hands and pulls Snafu off to the buffet table. A very smart decision as he is going to need a full belly to stomach all this nonsense.

Contrary to popular opinion, food on a ship is not half bad. Burgin keeps their cook happy with the third highest salary on board and frequent stops in port for fresh supplies. Snafu's diet as a child on land, however, was regularly lacking. His father was a failed farmer, and boiled cabbage soup was their evening meal more often than not. So Snafu supposes his standards for good food are not as high as most people's.

But this buffet laid out before him at the Governor's ball? This is a masterpiece. 

Snafu immediately heads straight for the pork chops. He loads up a plate and even concedes to taking utensils and a napkin when Gene offers them.

"Just so you know, we're going back for seconds," he informs Eugene. Eugene chuckles, and holds Snaf's plate for him while he pours them both drinks.

They find a table under a tree to sit and eat. If Snafu must use a fork and knife instead of his fingers, he's gonna need two hands to do it. And that shit's not possible while standing.

Eugene scoots his chair conspicuously close to Snafu's. But the low hanging branches of the willow tree partially conceal them from view, so Snafu allows it. After he finishes his first plate, he does indeed go back for seconds, and thirds. And then Eugene lights his pipe and they pass it back and forth. Their shoulders and legs are pressed together, and Eugene's arm reaches behind Snafu's neck to rest along the back of his chair. Sometimes when Eugene leans in to gently lift the pipe from Snafu's hand, he whispers in his ear and his nose brushes his cheek.

At one point Snafu makes a particularly cutting remark about the state of one unfortunate gentleman's coat, and Eugene starts laughing. He laughs so hard at the joke he leans his hand against Snafu's back and hides his face in his shoulder. Snafu has never seen Gene laugh like that. Ever. A wave of relief washes over Snafu and for a minute he forgets himself and tucks a stray lock of hair behind Eugene's ear.

His gesture is altogether too much like a caress, and he remembers with cold fear, that they are out in the open.

The minute Snafu's fingers leave Eugene's skin, his nerves are back. He darts a glance towards the Governor's dias and he freezes in place. The harsh sensation of a particular pair of eyes boring into the back of Snafu's head takes him out of whatever spell he'd been under making him feel like he and Eugene were the only two people in the room.

Snafu may have the weight of a ring on his finger, but the thousand yard stare of Governor Sledge holds the weight of the world. And every bit of it exudes disapproval.

It chills Snafu to his bones.

At the end of the party, after they've returned to the Governor's mansion, Snafu is shown to an opulent room by an opulently dressed butler. Eugene disappears somewhere down the hall. And Snafu finds himself standing alone, wearing his gold plated costume, inside a masterpiece of a room, feeling an utter fool.

He removes all his jewelry and unwraps his sash. He drags the covers off the bed and makes his own nest in front of the roaring fireplace. He curls up and he tries to sleep.

He is interrupted when Eugene mysteriously appears in Snafu's room through a hidden door behind a bookshelf.

Gene laughs at Snafu's floor nest, and helps Snafu pull the blankets back onto the bed.

Eugene then helps Snafu out of his costume, and this time he succeeds.

They fuck tenderly atop silk sheets and plush pillows. And the way Eugene whispers "Merriell" in his ear is almost enough to make Snafu forget he is here on borrowed time. Almost.

Right as Snafu is about to finally fall asleep there is scratching and a thud against the bedroom door, and for a second Snafu's heart stops at the fear they've been caught. But Eugene simply chuckles and wraps an arm around Snafu's bare waist in a quick hug.

"Go answer it," he says with a kiss to the nape of Snafu's neck.

Eugene lets go of Snafu and reclines back against the pillows, his eyes twinkling.

Snafu grunts about spoiled Governor's sons and casts his eyes overhead to the four poster bed's velvet canopy, but he drags Eugene's breeches on and does as he is told.

On the other side of the door waits a very patient dog. Deacon wags his tail excitedly and the dog's entire body wiggles. Snafu immediately crouches down to greet him and gets a few licks to his face in return. Snafu nearly falls over, but he moves to the side enough to get the dog in the room and the door closed.

"You were missing your master, huh?" Snafu asks Deacon, scratching under the dog's ear.

"He was missing you," Eugene speaks up from the bed, "This entire week, he has done nothing but stare out the window at the ocean and whine. If I didn't understand exactly how he felt, I might have been jealous."

"That's the real reason I've come back," Snafu says as he wriggles back out of Gene's pants and crawls into bed, "To steal your dog and turn him pirate."

"Guess if you've already got one of us, you might as well have the whole set," Eugene replies, drawing Snafu close and insisting on a kiss before letting Snafu settle his head against Eugene's shoulder. Deacon happily curls up at the foot of the bed.

The next morning he wakes to find that somehow during the night Snafu ended up flat on his back with Eugene sprawled across his body and Deacon stretched out across his feet. He is completely unable to move.

Snafu snakes his arm out from underneath the covers and tickles Eugene's ear. Eugene twitches in his sleep. Snafu stays persistent with the tickling until Eugene rolls over, almost accidentally knees Snafu in the groin, and is woken by Snafu's panicked yelp.

With Eugene awake the tickling quickly turns into a wrestling match, which Snafu almost wins. He straddles Eugene and pins Gene's hands above his head. Snafu presses teasing, featherly light kisses across Eugene's collarbone until Deacon barks and a sharp knock on the door interrupts them. Eugene bucks Snafu off him, dives underneath the blankets and slides down the bed in a lump like a coward, leaving Snafu on his own.

"Yeah?" Snafu calls out with as much authority as he can muster. He holds the bedcovers tight over his waist, but his hands won't stop shaking.

It doesn't help that Eugene chooses to put his mouth somewhere very distracting on Snafu's body right as the door unlocks and opens.

"Deacon's food is waiting for him downstairs," the butler says kindly, "Would you like your breakfast brought to your room?"

"Ah, no," Snafu improvises, "I will...uh...be out. Shortly."

Deacon jumps off the bed and trots out the door, tail wagging.

The butler nods and backs out of the room.

"Thank you!" Snafu adds belatedly to the closing door.

Once they're alone again, Snafu yanks back the blankets covering Eugene and finds his lover shaking with silent laughter and the worst case of bedhead he's ever seen.

"Asshole," Snafu accuses him, refusing to give in to the urge to run his hands through Gene's hair - a vibrant red in the morning light.

Instead Eugene pulls him down, silences him with a kiss, and they're both rather late for breakfast.

Snafu stays in the mansion for three days. He doesn't send Burgie any dinner invitations, knowing how well they'd be received, but he does mail a monogrammed card letting the crew know he's safe. He includes a handful of stolen silver artifacts in the parcel to appease any pirate tempers.

Every afternoon Eugene closes them both in the study and forces them to go over page after page after page of legal documents. Snafu attempts to read a few lines here or there, but mostly he only serves as a distraction. His hands wander of their own free will, and they both continually risk getting caught with Snafu's hands up Eugene's shirt or on his thigh, or tracing the line of Eugene's mouth.

"Pay attention," Eugene huffs with as much frustration as Snafu felt when Eugene kept trying to pry Snafu's attention from his maps.

"I am," Snafu insists, trailing his finger down Eugene's neck and studying the way the scruff of his hair stands on end.

"To something other than me," Eugene admonishes.

"Impossible," Snafu leans back on the cushy window seat and admires Eugene's profile against the sunlight. He grins devilishly, crosses his arms behind his head, and adjusts the seat of his hips in a languid manner. Snafu has never had this much free time to indulge in all his urges and he is determined to enjoy it thoroughly.

Eugene stops pretending to read the paper he is holding and glares at Snafu out of the corner of his eye.

It only makes Snafu smile wider.

"Fuck it," Gene says. He drops the page to the ground, plants a hand firmly on the windowsill, and leans over to kiss Snafu with wild passion. Snafu laughs between kisses and Eugene wraps an arm around his waist and tightens his hold, lifting Snafu off the seat until there is no air left between their bodies.

Then the locked door to the study opens.

Snafu drops his arms from around Gene's shoulders and goes still and silent. Eugene sits up, immediately alert. But bizarrely his hand falls atop Snafu's thigh and prevents Snafu from moving his leg off Eugene's lap. Snafu is left lying awkwardly on his back like a turtle, one leg still around Eugene's waist, the other shoved up against the cold glass windowpane, bent as far away from Gene as he can get it. The tent in Snafu's loose breeches is painfully obvious, and his mind is racing, calculating every possible exit from the room. There is only one thing keeping him in place and it's Eugene.

Unfortunately Eugene's strong grip on Snafu's upper thigh only worsens his state of arousal.

The Governor himself calmly looks at them, walks into the room, and closes the door behind him.

"Did you get all the necessary documents signed?" the Governor asks in a tired voice.

"Yes," Sledge replies defiantly, his shoulders straight, his chin high.

Snafu can barely breathe, let alone talk.

"Good," the Governor remarks politely, "I trust Captain Shelton will be setting out on his first officially sanctioned voyage soon."

Snafu's eyes dart between Eugene and the Governor in a panic, trying to guess what his answer should be.

"Actually," Eugene says, "He's staying here. Indefinitely." His tone is light but his accent is sharp.

Snafu, for his part, is still blinking like a fox caught outside its hole.

"Very well," the Governor says solemnly. He stands in the middle of the carpet, and makes no move to leave, even though they are all sitting in silence.

After a minute the Governor lifts his head and gazes out the window beyond where they're sitting. "It's a beautiful day today," he says casually, "I think I might organize a hunt." And with that he takes his leave. The door closes behind him gently. They hear the lock click back into place.

"Shit fuck, he's gonna kill me," Snafu claws at his face with his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"No," Eugene says calmly. He releases Snafu's leg and Snafu curls in on himself like the turtle he feels. "He won't," Gene promises.

Snafu groans.

"Snafu," Eugene says, trying to grab Snafu's hands behind the protective barrier of his legs. "Merriell…" Eugene eventually succeeds in wrapping his fingers around both of Snafu's wrists and uncovering his face. 

Snafu lets his knees fall open in defeat. He stares at Gene between his legs balefully.

"I love you," Eugene tells him. Certainty is written all over his face.

Snafu doesn't know how Eugene manages to look at him with such intense affection when they're surrounded by so much fear.

"Father is the only one who has the keys to this study," Eugene says, "I trust him. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Snafu's response is immediate and uncompromising.

Eugene lets go of Snafu's wrists and twines their fingers together instead. Snafu uses the grip to pull himself into a sitting position. He takes a moment to run his eyes over Eugene's serious face. His chest presses into the side of Eugene's shoulder.

"I trust you with my life, Gene," Snafu confesses.

"Then stay," Eugene says, and closes the deal with a chaste kiss.

That night the two of them fall asleep in Eugene's own bed instead of the guest room. Snafu luxuriates in the comfort of being utterly surrounded by reminders of Gene.

But this time Snafu wakes up alone. 

He hears a knock. Not on Eugene's door, but on the door of the guest room down the hall. Snafu falls off the bed in his haste to both yank his pants up over his ass and trigger the bookcase to open the secret passageway. He manages to get back in his room, slip on his shoes, and open his door by the time the impatient person looking for him knocks a third time.

"The Governor wishes to see you," the butler says.

"Right," Snafu nods, scratching the back of his neck and makes as if to step into the hall when the butler places a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Perhaps Sir should put on a shirt?" the butler smiles in a fatherly manner.

"Ah…" Snafu glances down at his bare torso and retreats inside his room to fish out something respectable.

"Perhaps a coat as well?" the butler once again poses the suggestion as a question.

Snafu gets the distinct feeling he is receiving advice. He hunts through the wardrobe and holds out a deep purple velvet ensemble for review.

The butler smiles and shakes his head discreetly.

Snafu presents two more outfits before they decide on a smart grey number made of flawlessly tailored rich fabric but without a lot of frills.

"Good luck," the butler whispers to Snafu before leaving him outside the door to the Governor's private library.

Snafu has already spent many hours in the family library. It's the only room in the mansion he actually likes. The Sledges own a copy of every single overseas expedition logbook Snafu could possibly want. Sailing is clearly a pastime both Eugene and his father enjoy.

This is the first time, however, that Snafu is given the privilege of seeing the Governor's personal book collection.

As soon as he walks through the door, the first thing to catch Snafu's eye is a large, exquisitely detailed globe resting in its own golden stand on the floor to the right. He itches to lay his hands on it, and he barely manages to restrain himself before the high backed chair turns and the Governor sets his eyes on him.

For a split second Snafu's breath leaves him. But then, he relaxes. He tilts his head with a small smile, and crosses the room to the globe. He ignores Eugene's father in favor of running his finger down the eastern coast of the Americas. Keeping his finger on the surface of the globe, he rotates it until he is touching China, and then the East Indies. He lifts his hand, spins the globe, and stops it with a touch.

He shifts his finger aside and reads the name of the country he landed on.

Japan.

"How much?" the Governor asks plainly.

"What?" Snafu's head jerks up.

"How much money can I offer to make you disappear from my son's life?" the Governor folds his hands on his desk and looks at Snafu pleasantly.

Snafu stares in shock, processing this new information.

"If you are killed, Eugene will mourn you forever as if you were a martyr. But if you leave, he will forget you," Governor Sledge explains.

"If I leave he'll miss me forever," Snafu taunts, smiling.

"You want to leave," Governor Sledge points out, "I can see it. Eugene certainly sees it. You are restless here. You have nothing here, except him. Let go of him. And I will give you any amount you ask for."

Snafu honestly considers it. Considers that - if Sledge's family truly hate Snafu that much - leaving Eugene alone might be the best decision for both of them. Considers how much Eugene loves his family, enough to risk his life to get back to them, to lie to a pirate. Considers the fact that the kind of money Governor Sledge is talking about could probably get Snafu across the pacific and back five times over. Considers how often Snafu has seen Sledge genuinely smile back home with his familiar comforts compared to his scowls aboard ship.

"I'd break his heart," Snafu says before his throat chokes closed. He coughs. His eyes sting.

"Exactly," Governor Sledge agrees amicably.

Snafu laughs. He hates how it sounds wild and a little despairing, even to his own ears. He can feel a grin on his face, mouth stretched so wide his muscles already ache.

"Well," Snafu bites his lip. He spins the globe again, faster. And this time he lets his finger drag against the curved surface, intentionally stopping it right over the port of Mobile. He looks up, and saunters to the desk, pulling Eugene's ring off and holding it high for the Governor to see.

"You want me gone that badly, I'll do it for free," Snafu offers, "But I'm keeping this." He closes his fist around the ring.

Taking a leather cord strung with keys from the corner of Governor Sledge's desk, Snafu unhooks the clasp and carelessly dumps the keys to the floor. He slides the ring onto the cord, knots it in the middle to keep the ring secure, and hooks the clasp around his neck.

"He'll know," Snafu says as he stuffs the necklace down his shirt front, "No matter what lies you tell him, he'll know. And he'll come after me."

The Governor doesn't respond, and Snafu turns his back on him to walk out the door. He'd take the globe with him, too, if he could think of a way to lift it on his own.

Snafu leaves the estate without another word to anyone. The relief he feels when he walks past the final gatehouse is palpable. He can breathe easier again out here, in the fresh air. And when he reaches the docks his confidence in life soars the minute he sees the Santa Alma waiting patiently in the bay. For the next few weeks he remains confident every time the crew sets sail, charting a course that wins them easy prizes while staying within a couple days reach of Mobile. They make berth regularly in the port, the crew eagerly enjoying the extra shore leave and spending money.

But after the first month passes and there is no sign of Eugene, Snafu's confidence dwindles. By the sixth month the heavy weight of the ring around his neck is no longer a security but an anchor. More time passes, and after the second full year spent alone, Snafu gives up hope.

He begins to plan another voyage around Cape Horn. This time enroute to Japan.

(My sketch of Pirate Snafu)

(the END for now, i swear they get back together, i promise, eugene didnt forget he’s just busy and he thinks snaf is an asshole who left without saying goodbye. if you want to see more PLEASE TELL ME cause i might do it)

[weareinterwet-blog]

Nick Crompton x Hot Dog Man smut

⚠️THIS STORY IS 100% A JOKE⚠️

TRIGGER WARNING: If you are retarded enough to find Jake Paul or any member of Team 10 entertaining and you ACTUALLY enjoy their content, I suggest you click off right the fuck now, we don't need any triggered 12 year olds, we are triggered enough ourselves.

This story contains mature content, and mentions of rape (for like one sentence). Please do not read this if you are under the age of 11 or have not yet learned about The Birds & The Bees. We also make numerous jokes about Nick Crompton's weight.

Now with that out of the way,

Let's get on with this shit show.

HDM= Hot Dog Man

Omniscient POV

    The Team 10™ house was bustling with all the members vlogging and such. Nick Crompton sat in the office, reading an e-mail from a friend who wanted to visit. After he finished reading it, Nick got off his fat ass and waddled into the living room. There he found Jake Paul spread eagle on the couch, taking a break from his latest prank video (taxing work, honestly). Nick knew he had to ask him if the Snapchat king himself, the Hot Dog Man, could come visit. It was the Team 10™ house rules and if he broke any of them Jake would kick his fat ass out.

    "He-Hey lad. Can I invite over, um, a-a friend?" Nick asked in his thicc British accent.

"What kind of 'friend', fat King George?" Jake chuckled.

Oh how Nick hated when Jake's greasy Ohio ass called him that. Fucking cunt.

"Well mate, he's a sensation on Snapchat. We could get a lot of views and advertisements if we collab with him while he visits."

Jake thought about it for a moment. "Well fine Britty Titty. He must collab with us or else you will be kicked out of Team 10™". God he's a fucking dickhead

Nick still put on a fake ass smile. "Thank you chap! This collab will be litty, trust me!".

Nick was filled with excitement. He couldn't wait for his first Grindr hookup, but he couldn't let Jake know. He already had a threesome with the Martinez Twins, and oh boy those pollas de españa were as thicc as Cristiano Ronaldo's thighs, and if Jake wasn't fucking yet another bitch in the other room at the time, all three of them would have been deported.

    Nick had spent the last hour preparing his room for HDM's visit. He made sure to have xxx(tentacion)L condoms and mustard flavored lube in his drawer next to his bed. He already prepped his richard. The juicy Snapchat king would be arriving at 8 pm and him and Team 10™ would be collabing the next day; if Nick's ass could withstand it, that is.

    Nick hoped the neighbors wouldn't call the cops on them during this collab, he wanted to make a good impression on HDM.

~~

(Time skip brought to you by the Martinez Twins thicc pollas.)

~~

    Jake called Nick from the kitchen, saying that the door rung and it was for him. Oh god save me Queen Elizabeth. Nick eagerly jumped out of bed (after many attempts), quickly wiping the jizz on his hands against Jake's door handle when he walked by his room. Take that you Ohio. Fucking. CUNT.

    Nick stomped down the stairs and made his way to the front door, and saw a young girl who was around 15 and probably didn't consent to what Jake Paul was going to do to her probably tight yet virgin pussy.

Probably.

But then he saw him.

He saw that thicc juicy meat encased in that tight ass bun.

The Hot Dog Man.

This part includes mature content. Proceed with caution

HDM calmly strode into the Team 10™ house and greeted the overweight Brit, casually brushing his hand against Nick's outer thigh when he walked by. He then walked over to Jake, who was already getting up on his new bitch.

"FUCKK OH BABY YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ALISSA. GIVE ME HEAD NOW UNDERAGE OHIO SEX SLAVE! THAT PUSSY SOOOOO TIGHT!"

Nick was embarrassed by Jake's extreme act of PDA (Me at school everyday tbh.) and turned over to HDM. "Don't worry, he always does this. His dick is really small (like the authors of this shit's will to live), and he cums in like 6 seconds."

HDM chuckled, "Just like his vines."

After the two settled down from their fit of laughter, HDM started to become curious and asked, "Wait a minute, how do you know that? How do you know his dick is small and he cums in 6 seconds?" he paused, grasping Nick's greasy and supersized fish n chips. Nick was sHooK, and his fish went flying. Holy Cow! The Queen is raising my mEmBEr.

Nick gave HDM a Team 10™ house tour, and even showed him (yO iT'S) Tessa Brooks hardcore masturbating to RiceGum and Alissa Violet's "It's Every Night, Sis" (Let's be real, that was a bop). Ah, how he loved his second yet nightmare of a home.

~~

('Notha time skip brought to you by those crispy fish 'n' chips that Nick shoves down his gullet, and occasionally asshole)

~~

Nick could notice HDM getting impatient. His relish flaps were so dry and crispy. Oh no I have to get them moist and wet.

"I have the 'equipment' set for our 'collab'." Nick casually told him. HDM gave him a smirk that made Nick's piener-wiener even more hard than it already was. With this, Nick dragged HDM to his room.

"Don't worry Niqqi, i brought some extra equipment" HDM said, WHIPping out several ropes, multiple types of gags and WHIPs, and bondage harnesses.

"These may be a bit small for you big boy". He said, taking out the harness.

HDM then reached over to Nick's bedside drawer to look for some lube. He didn't want to hurt him because his ass was probably really tight with all that fat surrounding it.

But once HDM opened the drawer, he was met with a distasteful surprise.

HDM had gone from 💯 to OVER NEIN THOUSAAAAND

(I'm so sorry.)

"FUCKING MUSTARD? DADDY IS GOING TO FUCK YOU WITHOUT LUBE YOU FAT BRITISH FUCK!"

HDM didn't even care about the other Team 10™ members hearing him. He was fucking pissed at Nick.

Nick's face filled with dread. I don't want my pooper to die! But it was far too late.

"Get on that pool table you fucking Wale" HDM said, getting out a ball gag and a bondage harness.

Nick obeyed his new master. I must please his mEmBEr

"Now there Niqqi, daddy will only shove his Ball Park™ mEmBEr into your filthy crumpet asshole if you do as I say and don't cum too early."

Nick obeyed, stripping all his clothes, letting his fat greasy rolls free. He climbed up on the pool table, stomach and dick down, and made a slight crack on the side of the table.

"Now there Niqqi boy, do you have a cock ring lying around?"

Nick shOOk his head. "Ple-please don't WHIP me daddy. Th-there is a-a stale o-o-onion ring (OGRES ARE LIKE ONIONS, THEY HAVE LAYERS) that's t-triple fried i-in fish 'n' chip batter. It will keep that hard mEmBEr of yours nice and erect."

"Now you fat fuck, you aren't getting my mEmBEr this easy. One WHIP for you for being a naughty boy."

Nick tried to scream for his life, but HDM was one step ahead of him. He had already secured the ball gag in his big gullet. HDM also secured the bondage harness across the brits flaps and tied a thicc piece of rope that attached the harness to the pool table.

"Resist you fat fucking whore" HDM firmly said, getting his finest leather whip and whipping the brit's asscheeks. They jiggled. Nick's screech was muted by the gag.

~

Nick's screams were slowly becoming moans, and Nick awaited every single WHIPcrack against his bum. Obviously HDM could see him enjoying this, but it is all about his own pleasure first. After another ten minutes, HDM removed the gag from Nick's mouth and untied the rope.

"Flip on your greasy back you fucking teabag. It's daddy's turn to feel the pleasure."

Nick did as told, and allowed his fat flaps to bounce back on the table. HDM tied the rope back on , exposing Nick's hard mEmBEr. HDM climbed on top of Nick's literal pile of fat , almost like an animal. He turned around in an almost 69 position and had his own beefy and ketchupy cock dangling in front of Nick's literal black hole of a mouth.

"You succ it until I tell you to not. If you make daddy cum too early, daddy won't fuck you. If you reject daddy's mEmBEr, daddy won't fuck you. If you gag in response to daddy's mEmBEr, daddy won't fuck you."

Nick understood, and HDM slowly lowered his mEmBEr into his mouth, almost like a fisherman lowering his fishing pole into a murky ass lake full of fish with mercury poisoning. Nick savored HDM's mEmBEr, licking all around and taking more into his gullet. He even succed so far down, he could taste the stale onion ring at the base mixed with the salty pre-cum and loose pubic hair. Oh I LOVE onion rings.

But HDM wasn't satisfied. Yes, his member was being served to Nick like a bucket of Ohio Fried Chicken™, but he felt Nick wasn't trying hard enough for him. HDM slowly reached his hand to Nick's own stiff mEmBEr, and gave them a few violent and robust tugs. Nick gave a soft moan, and started to lick and succ faster and faster. He pulled his head up to get more and more of HDM's juicy as fuck mEmBEr, which was glazed like an artery-clogging doughnut in pre-cum, and HDM let go of his. He pushed more and more of his meat into Nick's fat fucking gullet, which Nick gladly sluurped up. I love pre-cum and onion rings.

HDM reached over to his bag, which was hung up against the side of the pool table, and grabbed a spiked collar and a huge penis gag, tying the mEmBEr gag to the spiked collar.

"If you resist, you will choke little Niqqi. Now before you take this mEmBEr in, what do you say little fat as fuck bitch?"

Nick hesitated.

"Mah-My coc-collar is po-poppin".

HDM violently strapped the Cock gag into Nick's mouth, and grabbed the mustard lube. He threw it on the floor in disgust. He then reached his hand up to stimulate his little meatball nipples until a stream of fresh ketchup flowed down his hard meaty body. He collected a glop onto his hand and rubbed his cartoon fingers, making them gooey and moist. He shoved his fingers, one by one, into Nick's tight asshole. Nick's flaps, yet strapped down to the table, gave a violent bounce after every thrust. Just like playtime at home.

Nick was very shocked about how long HDM could last. He had been savoring his mEmBEr like a lollipop for over 10 minutes, and HDM only heavily moaned a few times.

"Alright Niqqi, succ me until I almost cum. If daddy cums, daddy won't fuck you, remember? If Niqqi does a good job, daddy may fuck you."

Nick wanted that fucc. He began to consume the mEmBEr as if it were an extra large slurpee from that American fat convenience store 7-11. HDM started to moaaaan.

"SUCC ME HARDER YOU FAT MOTHERFUCKING FUCK."

The obese Brit followed HDM's command and swallowed more of his foot-long™ of a mEmBEr down his gullet. Once HDM's hit the back of Nick's throat, he gagged. This made HDM more angry than he already was at the fact that Nick's fat ass only had mustard lube.

"DID I TELL YOU TO FUCKING GAG, YOU WHORE?"

HDM started to vigorously thrust into Nick's mouth, and every time Nick screamed in protest, HDM only went harder

I'm not going to be able to fucking speak tomorrow. Nick thought. This was all too much for him and he was having trouble breathing. Just as he let out another scream that was muffled by HDM's juicy mEmBEr, HDM shoved his mEmBEr all the way into Nick's mouth. He let out an extremely loud moan and busted a fat nUT into the back of Nick's throat. "Swallow all of it." HDM ordered. "Shouldn't be too hard; all you do is eat". Nick followed his command and swallowed all of HDM's thicc and creamy load, and loved the salty yet sweet taste it brought.

"mMM. Tastes so good, Daddy."

As Nick thought the two of them were done and tried to get up, he was met with a forceful push that sent him right back on his greasy back. "Oh we ain't fucking done yet. I still have to fuck your ass; I didn't prepare you for nothing." HDM said with a slight smirk on his face.

Nick gulped. "Y-yes daddy. Of c-c-course."

The sight alone of Nick Crompton's round face red and covered in his own spit made HDM become hard yet again. He even saw a bit of his fresh jizz along Nick's fat fucking lips. HDM got his hands which were pink from the cum and ketchup mixture, and flipped Nick's fat body over, and analyzed his asshole. He adjusted the onion ring on his hard and bulbous mEmBEr to make it even harder.

(Oh boy here it comes.)

Without hesitation, HDM violently thrusted his mEmBEr into Nick's entrance with a profusely loud moan. This caused the Brit to let out a cry of pain and pleasure. "Ooh you're so fucking tight, it almost didn't fit". Nick moaned in response as HDM kept viciously thrusting in and out of Nick's black hole.

~

For five minutes, Nick's ass had been on fire. He thought it would've been nice if HDM could've at least given him a warning before he went full throttle on him. But after those five minutes, oh boy was Nick having the time of his life. Every single move HDM made inside him made Nick scream in pleasure; which he could now do freely without the gag in his mouth.

After another five minutes, Nick felt this shock go through him that he had never felt before. This caused him to let out probably the loudest sound he had ever made in his life. "OOOOOH FUCK DADDY KEEP FUCKING ME LIKE THAT!!".

HDM then angrily slapped Nick's fat ass and shouted "DID I TELL YOU TO FUCKING SPEAK?"

HDM then abruptly pulled out of Nick, which caused him to whine in protest. "I'm sorry daddy, it just felt so good". HDM sighed "Alright, but if you pull that shit I'm leaving this fucking place".

He then continued what he had started, and Nick could feel the wrinkles of HDM's mEmBEr brushing up against his anal walls. It took a few minutes for HDM to reach that special spot again. Once he did, Nick started screaming again. He had never felt this kind of pleasure before, not even when he had the threesome with the Martinez Twins.

~~

(Time skip brought to you by HDM's fat nUT)

~~

After around another 10 minutes of HDM pleasuring Nick Crompton with his juicy foot-long™ mEmBEr, HDM was getting close to expiring, and Nick could sense it.

"The Big thicc daddy is getting close to releasing the 2nd cum, isn't he."

HDM didn't have the energy to yell at Nick again, instead he was overcome by a wave of ecstasy.

"SAY MY NAME, NICK. SAY MY BLOODY FUCKING NAME"

"DA-DADDY, DADDDY DA-DADDY". With one final thrust, HDM exploded deep inside of Nick's asshole, Nick cumming all over his stomach and the floor. Oops, I'll have to clean that up later. He pulled out and they both expired.

"Oh you are such a nasty fucking fat ass bitch"

"I know daddy"

The two lovers were fast asleep on each other, HDM's ketchup mixing with Nick's stomach grease. All of the sudden, Jake Paul and his bitch burst in, followed by all the members of Team 10™

"I FUCKING KNEW IT. I FUCKING KNEW YOU WEREN'T INTO PEOPLE. YOU ONLY LOVE FOOD YOU FUCKING FAT ASS LITTLE BRITISH CRUMPET CUNT", Jake screamed.

"¿Qué pasa con nuestras pollas españolas?" Emilio asked.

"¿No fuimos suficientes para ti, gordo culo?" Ivan sneered

"WHY DIDN'T YOU RECORD IT FOR ME TO MASTURBATE TO?", Tessa, who was the angriest of all, exclaimed.

"I SWEAR TO GOD WHY DID I MARRY YOU, YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Chance shouted.

~

All of the sudden, Nick wOkE up sporadically and sat up, waking HDM in the process. "What the actual fuck are you doing?" HDM asked, quite annoyed that he was woken up from his deep sleep. "Oh sorry, chap. I had a really bad dream that all the Team 10™ memebers walked in on us". "Oh well, we might as get up, it's almost 9:00am".

Nick reached over to his bedside table and looked at his phone. Oh shit he's right. We have to be down by 10 or I'll be kicked out of Team 10™.

Nick took a breath before he would start his long journey of getting out of bed. Once he tried to get up, he felt the most excruciating pain he had ever felt before in his nether regions. HDM saw his grimace and chortled. "Did daddy do you too hard last night?". "YEA-oWw!" Nick abruptly stopped himself from what he was about to say. "Oww, my fucking throat hurts Jesus Christ". "Don't speak then." HDM said. Nick nodded in agreement.

After twice as many attempts it takes to get out of bed on a normal day, Nick waddled over to get some fresh clothes from his wardrobe. Once he got his way-too-tight clothing on, Nick stomped his way down the stairs to the living room yet again; not even worrying about what HDM was doing.

~

"YoOOOO Nick, I got a surprise for you!" Chance shouted at Nick with a eager smile on his face. Oh for fucks sake.

"Wöt is it mate? A bitch that's more tolerable than Tessa?" He banted back.

"hAha, no. It's much better than that."

"Then wöt is it mate, I have to go see the Ohio cu- I mean Jake so we can start our collab with Hot Dog Man." "Okay, I know it's not food, but it's-!"

All of the sudden Chance pulled out a taser and put it right near Nick Crompton's face and turned it on. Nick shouted with utmost fear. "AH WHAT THE FUCK YOU OHIO CRACKER?!!"

Chance just screeched in response while the other Team 10™ members jumped into the living room; some with cameras, some with more tasers which frightened Nick even more.

"LMAO YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN YOUR FAT FUCKING FACE!!" Anthony yelled putting the camera in Nick's face.

"Good job, Hubby. You got him real good." Tessa said to Chance with her annoying southern accent.

"Alright, Alright. Let's settle down now, we have to start filming our collab with Hot Dog Man." Jake addressed to the rambunctious 20-year-olds. For once he's actually said something I agree with.

~~

(Time skip brought to you by Jake Paul's quality content)

~~

After Chance and Emilio set up the equipment for the video, the rest of the Team 10™ members and HDM sat down outside to start filming the video. They would be filming a "Truth or Dare" and it would be going on Jake's channel, of course. Nick hoped the Team 10™ wouldn't get too rowdy, as the neighbors would call the cops on them again.

"This should be fun, shouldn't it?" HDM asked Nick, slapping a hand on his lower back; knowing it would cause Nick a great pain. He winced. "Y-yeah."

~

When Tessa was about to pull out her second dare, all the Team 10™ members all turned their heads to the loud knock that could be heard from the fence followed by a loud voice bellowing,

"HEY, YOU FUCKERS. DO YOU MIND SHUTTING THE FUCK UP FOR ONE GODDAMN DAY. SOME OF US HAVE NORMAL LIVES AND YOU GUYS ARE PISSING US THE FUCK OFF WITH YOUR CHILDISH SCREECHES!"

"Oh fuck off!" Nick replied back, and they all laughed and continued on with the video. HDM smiled at him.

The fucking end

I am sincerely sorry if you read this thing all the way through. Welp, that's all folks.