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doctorbrown · 2 months

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❌ CROSS MARK — how would your life be different if Marty had never been in it? would it be better or worse? (Listen you asked me and I HAD to ask you, hnnnnn,,,)

Sometimes being fielded questions like this is inevitable. The infinite possibilities of life and all its mysteries are deeply interesting, he can't deny this, but he finds it less enjoyable to consider when it involves picking apart the already tightly woven threads of one’s own life to put it together again in the dark without that one crucial strand that holds everything together.

Truthfully, Emmett would rather dismiss the question rather than jump down this rabbit hole, but after a moment’s deliberation, he lets out a resigned sigh and sinks deeper into his chair. Einstein shuffles over, laying himself at his master’s feet.

❝Well for one,❞ Emmett begins with a rueful smile, ❝I might not be here to answer this question at all. I still could have been shot in the parking lot that night in a failed attempt to escape my attackers and the DeLorean might have been discovered come morning, when staff came to open the mall. It could’ve been seized by the federal government, reverse-engineered, and weaponised—or worse. The more likely scenario is that without Marty there to protect, I suspect I would have jumped in the time machine myself and wound up in my own past.❞

He may have had no choice but to seek out his own temporally local avatar and solicit his help.

And from that fateful night of October 26, 1985, the rest of his life may have taken quite a different path. All of his good fortune since that night, everything, can be traced back to a single point—Marty. His family, his happiness, his new place in life, none of this would have come to fruition without the young man present every step of the way, influencing things in a way Emmett would never have anticipated.

A promise in the driveway of Marty’s home at Lyon Estates prompted him to look up his friend in the future, only to discover the misfortune that had befallen him and Jennifer, trickling down to his children. Marty didn’t deserve that. Nor did Jennifer and certainly not their children. And while he’d convinced himself this one small change would make life infinitely better for them going forward, it’s only now, years later, that he’s swallowed the truth’s bitter medicine, forced to come to terms with the fact that not all of it was motivated by pure altruism no matter how he tried to spin the tale.

The time machine wasn’t for personal gain, but that was exactly what he and his loved ones had gotten out of it.

But if Marty wasn’t there, there would be no reason for him to attempt to influence anything, no reason to return back to that point in the future. There would be no almanac, no lightning strike, to reason for him to end up in the Nineteenth Century in the moment he did, no pieces in play to result in his inadvertently changing the timeline to save the woman who would become the love of his life—

A shadow crosses Emmett’s face as remembers Hell Valley, that nightmarish caricature of a reality in which Tannen’s power went unchecked, poisoning the streets and the people with the seeds of corruption he’d planted. It was his first glimpse of both of their own personal hells and nothing he’d managed to unearth even hinted remotely at the fact that he and Marty had made any sort of acquaintance. Perhaps if they had, their fates might have turned out slightly differently.

❝It’s safe to say that without him, my life wouldn’t have turned out the way it did following that night. But since I didn’t first meet Marty until I was in my fifties, most of my life up until that point remains unchanged.❞

When Emmett thinks back now to all the years Marty has been in his life, a constant and dare he say expected presence alongside him and Einie in the garage, he's stricken by an uncharacteristic cloud of melancholy that hangs darkly over his head.

All the little changes Marty had brought to his life had become commonplace. Routine that he could easily settle into, even when Marty still found ways to surprise him at every turn. Now forced to consider them at length, even the non-exhaustive list he quickly begins to compile in his mind is lengthy, peppered with examples that he only now realises were the result of the kid's influence.

He had come to like Marty's, ❝Hey Doc, you home?❞ as a way of announcing his presence like clockwork even when he started letting himself in with the spare key. It was always said with the same cheerful note that brought a spark of life to the garage.

There would be nobody to look at his inventions, even the ones that were still little more than half-formed ideas, and still think they'd be worth a damn.

❝Well over a decade’s work had already gone into the time machine and with or without him, I would have completed it. Though, whether or not he realised it, he did often say some things that led to a burst of inspiration.❞ Emmett may be conventionally smarter by academia's standards, but Marty is a brilliant, insightful young man, sometimes wiser than his years.

❝And I dare say that my musical interests would still be rather limited. Marty would tell me that I was stuck in the past❞—Emmett snorts at the particular phrase, remembering how barely a moment later, Marty would launch into an enthusiastic conversation about some of his favourite songs and artists, many of which were well before his time—❝and that I needed to broaden my horizons. I wasn’t particularly interested in the new noise that the kids were raving about, but after some very long discussions and a little bit of pleading on his part, I gave it a shot.❞ And it had grown on him, much to his surprise.

He also might not have ever reached for his old saxophone again without Marty’s unshakeable desire to hear him play.

All the small things keep piling up. The question is too broad, allowing for far too many variables and possibilities to ever settle on a single answer.

Arriving at a truly satisfactory answer to this question could take the rest of his days, so Emmett cuts himself off there.

❝The possibilities for how my life would be different are too overwhemingly numerous to consider. If we accept the existence of multiple realities, then every choice we make that has a significant impact on future events creates a deviation in which events unfold differently, branching into infinity.

❝We’ve learned that sometimes, all it takes is a single misspoken word in the wrong place and time to have dire consequences on the outcome of a person’s future. I may be a failed inventor. I may have decided to go public with the time machine without the negative experiences we had on our trips and rocked the world with my discovery of time travel. I may have accidentally altered history in a way that I couldn’t undo. I may have needed to return to teaching or find alternate employment. I can’t say.

❝But what I do know is that I would’ve lost one of the dearest friends I’ve ever had. He is the one person who, even when he had no real reason to, always believed in me and what I could accomplish. My life would be far lonelier without his constant presence and I'd rather not think about a reality like that for too much longer for fear that somehow, it’ll come to pass.❞

IC CHARACTER DEV. QUESTIONS

#BOY YOU SURE DID #and i love/hate you for this #f;lasdfj this is a fucking doctober length reply goddamn #also me going with the way we talked about how they've probably been friends longer than canon implies - both of them younger when they met #writing it was a mess because i don't understand a to b without twelve detours inbetween but #timechange #&; i‚ doctor emmett l. brown... 「 ic 」#&; all your questions will be answered! 「 asks 」

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

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I forgot if I sent this request? But Zhongli breeding his bunnyperson lover while they’re in heat?? pleaseee?

Ask and ye shall receive! Yeah, this was the first zhongli breeding request I got so(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

Dragon at the Top, Rabbit at the Bottom Summary: The first time you invite Zhongli to join you in your heat, he had ran away, years later him joining you for your heat was something that was established without any need for a contract.

As the God of Marriage and Harvest, you had no shortage of followers and worshippers. This abundance had greatly contributed to your survival during the Archon Wars and the subsequent fall out of the Tragedy of Khaenri’ah. Of course, your affair with the God of Contracts and Lord of Geo had contributed to your continued survival as the Ancestor of the Rabbit Clan, and Liyue’s God of Marriage and Harvest.

Though you had no qualms in displaying your indomitable strength to those who would challenge you, your lazy nature and natural rabbit inclinations had led you to be neutral towards worldly affairs. In a sense, you had only interacted with the mortal world and fellow gods on a work basis, in mortal terms you were a workaholic god. Where others would have been dissuaded by your nature, Morax had been enamored.

To him, you were dedicated to your worshippers and followers. Your good work ethic was a reflection of your appreciation for following contracts. Simply put, in Morax’ eyes you had no discernable faults thus you were desirable as a lover.

The memory of him appearing right before you in that bamboo forest was one of your most interesting memories. Primarily because it was the first time you had ever seen a dragon come into a rabbit’s den in the middle of their heat. It had brought you endless amusement, seeing Morax’ calm serene eyes marred with panic once the scent of your head began to permeate the air of your den.

The outer sleeves of your hanfu had slipped over, revealing the smooth expanse of your skin, a solid evidence of your life that was devoid of hardships. At the same time it was an evidence of your strength that no one had ever been able to over power you. Your long silk like hair was spread out on the soft cool wood of your den’s floor.

“To what great pleasure, do I owe the Geo Archon to have come to my abode without any invitation?” You greeted him, eyes half-lidded with lust as you maintained control of your lucidity.

“That-I-” Morax stammered as he tried to look away from your enticing form that was sprawled out elegantly on what he could only surmise as your nest, “I would like to invite you to see the first lantern rite with me...however I had been re-” His words faded as his eyes were drawn to the rustle of clothes.

Your inner sash was untangled causing your inner robe to slip down and reveal the smooth expanse of your chest, twin red peaks perked up as you smiled at him, “You were?”

“I wasn’t aware that it was your heat…” He gulped and averted his eyes, the red tips of his ears were the only indication that he was embarrassed.

“I apologize for the intrusion, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“I would not mind if Lord Morax would stay and...help me out in my heat?” You had teasingly offered him, your red eyeliner and red lips added to your seductive charm, the twitch of your long black ears gave you a playful look.

“...” His eyes widened before he abruptly turned around and left in a hurry.

You blinked, surprised at his action before your loud laughter echoed in your den. You sank in your soft nest and hoped to see that sort of expression on his face once more.

In his abode, Morax tried to calm his racing heart, he could feel the heat on his face and the slight hardness in his dick. It was the first time he had ever been exposed to such a potent scent of heat.

“Things must be done in order…” He reminded himself as he tried to banish away the images of your alluring half-naked body from his mind.

And yet as he uttered those words, Morax could not help but remember your soft teasing voice inviting him to experience worldly pleasures. Your soft laughter and this hidden side of you somehow tickled his heart.

Liyue, 3600 Years Later

The soft moans and distinct sound of flesh slapping could be heard loud and clear within the halls of your residence. You made no effort to stifle the sounds of pleasure that Zhongli easily coaxed from your mouth. Your hair was in disarray, a tangled mess that only served to make your naked body even more erotic in Zhongli’s eyes.

Your nipples were red and wet from Zhongli’s earlier ministrations, he was truly good with using his mouth not only in sharing Liyue’s history but also in his ability to apply the exact amount of pleasure necessary to make you come from his bite alone. The twitch of your black rabbit ears with each hard thrust of Zhongli’s hip made him aware of how much you were feeling.

His thick monstrous cock was scraping the insides of your slutty hole, making you arch your body from the pleasure that emanated from each thrust that hit your sensitive spot. Your nails dragged a long line of scratch on Zhongli’s back as you came from another bout of pleasure, instinct driving you to clamp on Zhongli’s cock to ensure that his seed would be buried deep inside you.

You felt his arms hold you as your body was lifted from the soft floor of your nest. The sudden change in position gave you a micro orgasm as the head of his cock brushed past your sensitive spot.

“Why haven’t you come yet?” You mumbled in his ear, softly whining from the lack of his thick come filling you.

You felt, rather than saw, his smirk as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. His dragon part took over from his human self as he answered, “You know that this year’s heat is more potent than the last, if I spilled all of my seed inside you right now you would definitely end up pregnant, my dear.”

His sharpened nails softly went down your back, before settling on your ass cheeks and spreading it, Zhongli continued speaking, “Or is it that you want to bear my children now? Would you like that, changing from the God of Marriage and Harvest into the God of Marriage and Childbirth?”

His soft sultry voice made your insides twitch in interest, your breathing becoming hard as the next onslaught of heat came again.

“Shut u-!”

Zhongli had lifted you up and slammed you into his dick, causing you to moan and once again sink into the haze of lust. Saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth as Zhongli repeatedly slammed you, in time with him raising his hips, into his cock doubling the pleasure you felt with each thrust that had you moaning lewdly.

Each thrust had you begging him for more, uncaring of the lewd face you were making which was a far cry from your usual composed face. You no longer knew nor cared for what you were asking from Zhongli, your mind was only focused on his thick cock that repeatedly slammed inside you, hitting your sensitive spot again and again, each thrust throwing your mind deeper into the haze of lust.

Zhongli’s grunts and moans mixed with the squelch of your wet hole as his cock impaled you again and again, scraping your insides and making you long for the feeling of his thick seed.

His hand went up to your tail and squeezed it, making you moan louder just as he thrusted into you before letting a thick load of cum inside your hole right as you came. You cried his name, your arms reaching out for him, wanting to be held as you rode out your orgasm.

And Zhongli, the perfect lover that he was, obliged and held you close to his chest. Opting to rest for a moment as he kept his cock sheathed inside you. He kissed you softly on your mouth while his hands wandered through the smooth expanse of your body feeling its softness before it settled in the dip of your waist.

“Mhmm...You’re already loose enough for my next form…” Zhongli told you and you hummed softly, baring your neck as you felt him transform his body to ensure that he would be able to breed you.

Had you been outside your heat, you would have flushed over Zhongli’s handsome form, one he wore in public as Rex Lapis, but with the heat clouding your reason you could only position yourself invitingly to him. Spreading your legs wide and lewdly inviting him to take you, to breed you with all his might.

Gone was the mortal shell he wore, adorned on top of his head were two horns, his pupils had turned into the slits of a dragon, his teeth had gone sharp, his hand up until his forearm had turned into the smooth scale of a dragon.

His dick had grown thicker and longer, split into two and both were leaking thick droplets of cum that had you biting your lips in anticipation.

“Yánwáng Dìjūn” You called him sweetly, arms outstretched for an embrace and Zhongli sank into your wet hole and into your embrace.

He inhaled the scent of your heat and pheromones that smelled like sandalwood, a comforting scent that never went away from the days before the Archon Wars and its aftermath. This was your scent that never failed to bring him peace, an everlasting scent that lingered for decades.

He moaned at the clench of your hole, biting your neck as your sharp nails dragged long lines on his back. He kissed the spot he bit as your legs hugged his waist, the sensation of his two dicks scraping your insides as it gushed out slick only served to fuel your libido.

Each thrust of his hip brought you immense pleasure, hitting your sensitive spots that had you losing yourself to the haze of lust. Everything in you felt on fire as Zhongli gripped your waist, thrusting his two thick and long cocks inside you again and again all the way. His balls slapping your buttocks making obscene sounds as your wet cavern squelched from the combined liquid of your slick and Zhongli’s previous cum. The sudden loss of his cock filling you inside went unnoticed as he turned you around to lay on your stomach, ass up and presenting your wet and loose hole that was dripping his and your cum into the silk sheets of your nest.

“Yánwáng Dìjūn?”

It was all you could say before you moaned loudly from the force of his dicks slamming inside you, making his thick load of cum from earlier spurt out of your hole.

“Fuwaaa~ahn!”Your broken moans only made him grip you tighter as you clung onto to sheets for your dear life, you felt your hole clench just as the comforting weight of his body enveloped your smaller frame.

His hand wandered to your chest, pinching and twisting your glistening and reddened nipples as his cocks repeatedly thrusted into you.

“Inside me-!” You moaned as Zhongli bit you and unloaded his thick white cum inside of you. The rest of his come dribbled down the insides of your things while some fell into a puddle below your hole.

Zhongli’s pants filled your ears as he gripped you into a hug. His hand then reached downwards to your hole, scooping some of his come into his hand and presenting it into your mouth.

You opened your mouth as his fingers went near and moaned as his fingers began fucking your mouth.

“As the new God of Childbirth, you have to lead by example” Zhongli whispered as you tasted his sweet cum in your tongue, he kissed the back of your neck, “Bear my children.”

Your hole twitched in interest, as you swallowed his cum. You reached for his cocks, noting that it was already hard again, perhaps it was the from the orgasm or maybe it was due to your heat but you found yourself uttering words you would never have dared,

“How bold, for a mere element like you that merely ascended by chance to demand such a thing from a God like me.”

Soon you found yourself being fucked once more, harder and faster, feeling Zhongli’s annoyance and even then you knew that he was still holding back. Nothing like the beast that he truly was beneath the years of knowledge he had gained from achieving the pinnacle of cultivation.

He chanted your name as he impaled his cocks in you again and again, making you throw away all your aloof dignity as you moaned and begged him for more, begging him to fill you up with his seed and show his might.

Zhongli didn’t stop thrusting as you came again and again from his cocks, he didn’t stop even when he came losing himself to the thought of breeding you and dominating you.

His cocks didn’t stop filling you and when your hole couldn’t take it anymore, he fucked your mouth, repeatedly thrusting his two cocks and spurting his come down your throat multiple times as your hole twitched from the jade pillar he had plugged it with to keep all his come inside.

Your face was stained with his come, some of it staining your hair. Your belly was filled with his come and Zhongli had shown no signs of stopping anytime soon. As you felt him come for the nth time you slowly felt your consciousness slip away, the edges of your vision darkening as you tasted the familiar sweet taste of his come fill your mouth.

‘Ah~ I really provoked this dragon this time~’ You thought with mild amusement.

You were quite sure that once your heat was over, you would end up pregnant with his child.

When Spring arrived in Liyue, the entirety of Liyue Harbor found the esteemed consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Zhongli, holding a visibly pregnant lady in his arms. Their belly was large and round, showing despite the considerably loose hanfu they wore but the most eye catching part was the possessive and caring way Mr. Zhongli cared for his pregnant spouse.

From the tips of their inky black hair to the pearls and gems that adorned their rabbit ears, the citizens of Liyue knew that Mr. Zhongli would have a litter of children. He had after all impregnated the most and highly esteemed race descended from Liyue’s God of Harvest and Marriage.

Unbeknownst to the town people, and only known to those who had a sharp sense of smell, the state of your pregnancy did nothing to stop Zhongli from breeding you repeatedly every night, everyday and in every opportunity that was presented to him. Even now as he assisted you in taking your daily walk in the boulevard, Zhongli was pleased by the flush on your cheeks.

It was after all the sign of you feeling the slow drip of his come from him fucking you earlier in one of Liyue’s seedy alley. His adepti powers concealing the act from everyone.

“I can’t wait once you give birth” He whispered into your ear as he hugged you from behind.

Your heat was long over, but the feeling of his cock as he discreetly rubbed it against your ass made you feel like it had returned.

“Mmmm...it’s going to be a long winter then…” You replied absentmindedly as you leaned on his chest. You felt your hole twitch in interest as Zhongli’s hand slipped underneath your skirt, you bit back a moan, pretending that nothing lascivious was happening. Idly, as Zhongli began preparing you for another round of breeding, you remembered that dragons had heats too.

And as you felt his cocks enter you easily, you lost your train of thought and fell into the haze of pleasure as Zhongli fucked you again.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #R-18

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thewinchesters-pants · 3 years

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Dean’s Cam Girl

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, praise kink, slight dom/sub tones? (but not really), fingering, 18+ only please!

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I'm so sorry this is getting posted late! I'm not a huge fan of how it ended but I will definitely come back soon and edit it to add more details. I'm so used to having the whole night play out that writing one part of it seems weird. Either way, it’s not been looked over so all mistakes are my own! I tagged those who commented on my blurb that I posted a couple days ago so shoot me a message if you want to be added to my Dean Tag List and I’ll add you too!

P.S.- It seems like some of the tags didn't work on my laptop so I’ll try on mobile once it’s posted and see what happens.

"Spread your legs, pretty girl. Let them see you." Dean's voice is husky as he nibbles at the shell of your ear, fingers splayed over your stomach as his ankles hook around yours to keep your legs spread.

"You want me to touch you, sweetheart?" Dean grins wickedly, fingers slowly sliding up your body to pluck gently at your pebbled nipples and cup your soft tits in his hands.

You nod your head yes and it lulls back to rest against Dean's shoulder while your eyes stay trained on the little red, blinking light of the laptop camera. You don't really know when it started or why, but the two of you fell down this rabbit hole after one drunk night where you decided to make a dirty video and post it online. You weren't dumb- you made sure to hide any identifying features of both your bodies and your surroundings. But when the checks started arriving in the mail that stemmed from views on your video, a lightbulb appeared above your head on a new way to make money that was actually your own and not stolen or hustled. Dean was obviously on board because it meant he got to do more things to you- things he had fantasized about and saw in other videos that he wanted to try. So here you were: roughly 3 months into this new journey and swimming in real money with a fanbase that craved the material you put out. It gave you a reason to stay fit, too, but that was more for you than anyone else.

You were still in your favorite bodysuit, but he had slid his index fingers under your shorts and tugged them down your legs so the wet patch of fabric that covered your soaked pussy was on display. He was grinning from ear to ear as he saw what this looked like on the computer screen: only his legs and arms were visible but you were the main treat. Hair was slightly wet from the sweat that coated your skin, you were flushed light pink in need and desperation, tits barely held in by the black material covering them, and absolutely soaked, went cunt starting to become visible behind the sodden fabric it hit behind.

"You wanna cum tonight, princess?" De growled, hands moving from your chest and down your stomach to stroke along your bare thighs.

"Yes, please." You whimpered, slick hole clenching around nothing and desperate to be filled.

"How bad?" He taunted, grinning with his tongue behind his teeth as he drug his fingers up your wet slit in a teasing motion.

"So bad, De. Need it, need you." You gasped as his middle finger started rubbing slow circles into your clit.

"Need it where, princess?" He replies, adding another finger into his teasing circles.

"Inside me." You exhale as he does just that, sliding his middle finger behind the fabric and three knuckles deep inside your tight heat.

"Like that?" He asks, grinning into the kiss he presses against your temple.

All you can do is nod your head but he doesn't like that response; he pulls his finger out and slaps your pussy a little less than gentle. You gasp and groan in surprise, unaware that that was something you liked. His ears perked up at the noise and he looked at you curiously.

"Oh, does someone like getting their pretty pussy slapped?" De asks, testing the waters and doing it again to see what would happen.

Your head lulls back once more as he does it again and again, fingers tapping against your clit after every slap as he builds up your orgasm. You can feel the coil in your lower stomach tightening as you get closer to your release and your muscles begin to clench in anticipation when he suddenly stops and pulls away.

"De…" you whine, legs shaking as you slowly come back down and you look up at him with hooded eyes.

"Yes, princess?" He smiles innocently, fingers going back to rubbing along your inner thighs as you catch your breath.

"Why'd you stop?" You ask, needy for your release.

"Drawing it out, sweetheart. Makes the ending so much better." He tells you, his fingers teasing their way back up your stomach to the sleeves of your body suit.

He hooks his fingers under the material and tugs it down your arms, freeing your breasts to the cool air and in sight of the camera. You used to be shy about this but now the idea of people watching you has you more wet than ever, if that was even possible. He goes back to plucking at your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index fingers as he watches your body react on the screen. He's impossibly hard behind you and he ruts his hips in small back and forth motions so his hard cock rubs between your ass cheeks.

"Please, De." You whine, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasurable feeling coursing through your veins and straight to your clit at his ministrations.

"You wanna cum, princess?" He asks as if he's asking about the weather but you're almost crazy with desperation and you start babbling.

“Yes, please, De. Fuck, wanna cum. Wanna cum on your fingers, on your cock, anywhere you'll let me. Fuck me, I know you wanna. Wanna shove your hard cock deep inside me, feel how wet and warm I am." Dean growls deep in his chest at your words but obliges, tugging your body suit out of the way and shoving his middle and ring finger deep inside you and he starts rubbing against your g-spot as he begins fingering you roughly.

He knows that the viewers will like your begging but he knows it's just for him and that's what drives him crazy- having you shaking and whimpering and begging him to do these dirty things to you. He memorizes every noise you make, how your face scrunches when he gets deep, how your jaw goes slack when he finds your G-spot and is merciless as he goes to town on both it and your clit at the same time. You're clenching his forearms that are wrapped around you as you begin to chase your orgasm once again, and he's determined to make it the best one of the night.

He's got his ankles hooked around yours to keep your legs spread wide open as he starts using his thumb to torment your clit with quick circles. However, his free hand moves to your chest and begins palming at your breast- tweaking your nipples and pinching just hard enough to get you to gasp out. He promised himself that he was going to draw this out-make you really desperate for it- but seeing you come undone like this was driving him crazy. Your eyelids are fluttering as you fight to keep them open; you're trying to keep your eyes on his face for the entire time so he can watch you cum around his fingers. He said that was his favorite part, after all.

"Give 'em a show, sweetheart." Dean coos in your ear, his voice husky and thick like honey.

You nod, spreading your thighs more so he can get just a little deeper while your back arches and you start moaning and cursing with more abandon. You're teetering right on the edge of your release and Dean knows that the thing you needed was his arm across your chest and palming your breasts while you came. And you did, you came harder than you ever have and were loud enough that you were sure the neighbors in the connected hotel room could hear you. Your fingers dug into Dean's skin and left long, red welts down his forearms as you moaned out until there was no more breath left in your lungs.

"That's it, princess. You're doing so good. So fuckin' beautiful, honey." De praises you as your bones turn to jelly and you collapse back into his embrace.

You're grinning up at him, smile blissed out and eyes closed as you work to catch your breath. You barely notice him hit the stop button on the computer and settle back into the pillows with you.

TAGS:

@deandreamernp

@asgoodasdancingqueen

@deandaydreaming

@mvdeanw

@deanwinchesterswitch

@kickingitwithkirk

#dean winchester #dean and sam #sam and dean #winchester #winchesters #winchester smut #dean winchester smut #winchester cam girl #supernatural #Supernatural smut #supernaturalsmut #dean winchester one shot #Winchester One-Shot #deanwinchester #SPNFamily #family dont end in blood

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holdmyowos · 3 years

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Feather (Hawks x Reader Lemon)

Includes: Masturbation, brief mention of blood, and unprotected sex.

Your POV:

"Ok Keigo! Go out there and show them what you are made of!" You cheered as they called him out on the stage. They were announcing the top heroes in Japan on that stage. Your boyfriend was one of them. You had to wait backstage, for the celebration to be done. Only important people and press reporters got to be in the stands, watching the great heroes. You sighed. The announcer called out that Hawks was the number two hero! Your boyfriend, the number two hero! You could not wait to congratulate him. You wanted to hug him and kiss him, but he was too busy being a celebrity. You did not pay too much attention to what was going on the stage, since you could not see it and it was bound to be all over the news soon enough. What an inflated ego he would have tonight. Well, then again, he already had an enormous ego.

Something bright red flashed in the corner caught your attention. It was moving. It looked fluffy. What sort of animal was red and fluffy? A bloody rabbit? You picked it up. Almost immediately you recognized the item to be one of Hawk's feathers. It was one of his shorter ones, about five inches long. He always seemed to shed them, but it was unlike him to leave a feather. Usually called the feathers back with the rest on his wings. The feather trembled and moved as if the wind was blowing it slightly. You were inside, so that meant Hawks was moving the feather a little. It had been lying on the floor, behind the stage, in a corner, so it was very dusty.

You took the feather to a backstage bathroom and washed it thoroughly with soap and water. Hawks and you had slept in one of the rooms back there. Since you had nothing better to do, you went back to the sleeping room. It was very quiet all the way back there. You sat on the bed and shut the door.

Hawks had been almost pleading for you to sleep with him last night on the bed, but he had his clothes off and it made you blush too much. And you did not really feel like it. It would have hurt his ego for him to beg you, so he had let it go. But it was obvious what he had wanted to do. And you wanted to do it with him. Just not then. You wondered if he would ever ask you to do that again. But now? You wish he were here, asking you to stroke his ego by praising him for his muscular abs. You twirled the feather in your hand. Hawks felt everything that happened to each of his feathers. The feather vibrated. You blushed slightly, getting a naughty idea. As a congratulations to Hawks, you would give him what he had wanted. You hope this would not affect his performance on the stage, but you really did not care. You were sure he would love it.

You took the shaft of the feather in your hand and licked the soft part. Then you squeezed bits of it and bit it lightly. You started off giving just the tip small licks, then you licked the whole length of it. The feather shuddered. It flew out of your hand and started writing on a piece of paper that was on the nightstand. Well not writing, exactly, because there was no ink on the feather, but it left the impression of words on the paper from how hard the feather's shaft pressed against it. It was in Hawks's handwriting.

'[Y/N],

I would appreciate if you did not do that. I'm giving a speech right now. Quit distracting me.

You're making me butcher my speech lol. But we can continue this later, if you want.'

At the bottom of the paper was a drawing of what you assumed must be a blushing Hawks with his signature.

You thought he was done writing, but then the feather picked itself up and continued writing.

'Actually, you know what? This is really boring, please continue.'

There was a winking face next to it, as if he was texting you.

So he did know what you were trying to do. You smirked, almost not believing that Hawks had said please. Well not said exactly, but close enough. You put the feather into your mouth, shoving it deeper until you almost gagged on it. You sucked on it for awhile. Like a soft popsicle. The feather then flew out of your mouth, surprising you. You coughed.

The feather danced along, your body for awhile, tracing your skin. It went under your shirt, so you took the shirt off to follow it. It tickled your neck, then traced circles down your stomach. The lower on your stomach it went, the slower it moved. It found what it was looking for, and tried getting under the gap of your pants. You unbuckled them and took them off.

The feather flew down your underwear, and you took the rest of your clothes off. The feather moved on to your weak spot, and started slowly making lines down the outside of your soft spot. The feather was bunching up, because it was getting a little sticky. You curled your toes and let out a puff of air as it went in a little. Then it went out. It did that a few times, but it never got very deep. You guided the feather deeper, moaning as it twitched. It flew out, against your hand's pressure. Then it poked you with the sharp end in the middle of your hand. Just barely enough to draw a pinprick of blood. That's what you get for messing with Hawks, you thought. The feather wiped it away, and your blush deepened. It seemed to be getting warm in the room, but it was probably just you. The feather again went in your hole and this time it went a little deeper than it had been, but not much. Then it started vibrating. You moaned as it went in and out, never going very deep, but it was pretty fast.

The door slammed opened with a loud bang against the wall. You quickly covered yourself with the sheet. It was a white sheet, and it hardly covered you, since it was pretty much see through because it was so thin. Keigo was in the doorway. "Baby, I hope you know what you did to me. If I messed up my speech, I blame you. And if you made this happen," he gestured to his crotch area, which was really tight, "you have no one to blame but yourself."

Keigo's POV:

I did my speech, hardly able to concentrate. People in the crowd muttered about how I was not making any sense. I had to keep in control. I refused to blush or gasp in fount of all these people. I really wanted to, though. I had so many feathers, why did one feeling something bother me so much? I wrote a quick note to Y/N, hoping she would quit flustering me. I got over with the speech, and started playing with my little bird using my feather. It was hard to maneuver it without seeing, but it worked. I only halfheartedly paid attention to the announcements about the other heroes. A blush was creeping onto my face. They pushed the feather in deeper. Was I not satisfying them? I poked them in punishment, then gave them a reward for being so needy, by viberating the feather. If I went in too deep, they might cum without me. My blush deepened. Mirko asked me if anything was wrong, and I gave her a strained no. I had to get back to my love. I couldn't wait for this to be over, as much as I had been anticipating this ceremony earlier. I started sweating, and I could feel my pants tighten. We heroes were finally dismissed, and I practically ran over to the place where we were staying together. I stood outside the door and leaned against it to regain my breath. I took deep breaths and waited until my blush was less and I was less sweaty, trying to regain part of my composure. It didn't work. The feather flicked in and out of them. It was all I could think about.

I barged in the room. Before they had the chance to cover themself, I saw their body. Angelic. They were moaning at my feather's movements. I shut the door quickly so that no one would see them. The quickly covered up when they realized that I had gotten in the room. They muffled their sounds, trying to hide their face, as I used the feather still. "Baby, I hope you know what you did to me. If I messed up my speech, I blame you. And if you made this happen," I gestured to my crotch area, which by now was really tight. Damn, I'd gotten hard. "you have no one to blame but yourself. So, show me what you've been up to while I was away, doing important things that you should not have been messing up. Oh, are you blushing? Have you been playing with my toy? My feather? You know how sensitive those things are." They covered up their blush and tried acting so shy. I hated it. They shouldn't defy me. I shoved the feather deeper than it had been before. They took their hands off the sheet that had been covering them and grabbed onto the bed, practically clawing it with their nails, and let out a moan that somehow made me even harder.

Y/N's POV:

I tried regaining my composure. He was blushing fiercely, and stripping in front of me after I had moaned like that. He was so sexy. You hadn't really noticed before, since he dressed so modestly. He sent his feather up to his mouth, and licked all the slick off it in a really attractive and suggestive way. It then rejoined the thousands already on his wings. He just stared at me, and I stared at him awkwardly for a few moments. I got a little courage, seeing how flustered he was. "People say that you're fast and fierce, Hawks, is that true?" You bite your bottom lip. He goes in for the kill, pounding you almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth. It was true. "Babe I already want to cum... but I'm waiting until you are ready..." His wings flapped wildly around the two of you as he went pounding into you. The air was a mix of groans and moans from both of you. He bites your ear. You had played with from the feather for too long. You cum, and he does too.

"Up for a second round?" He teases you. "How about you save that for later," you reply.

#xreader #bnha #mha #mhaxreader #bnhaxreader #hawks #hawksxreader #keigo #lemon

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Let's Play

Warnings: dubcon sex, masturbation, toy play, anal plugs, dildos, vibrators, voyeuristic elements, double penetration, triple penetration, extreme insertion.

This is dark(ish)!Steve Rogers and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Steve doesnt like being lied to.

Note: Okay, so this is really just a kinkier side of Steve and he likes to watch the reader squirm.

Anyway :) Please like, reply, and/or reblog if you read. <3 Love you all.

Based on these anonymous requests:

- Dark!Steve finding out you faked an orgasm

- you should make dark!steve buy a bunch of toys for the fem!reader, and he should make her use them in front of him 🥵

...

Long day. Long week. Long month.

You weren't sure what was going on but you were in a funk. You felt so numb. You went to work, came home, made dinner, and went to bed. You just went through the motions and as you laid in the dark, you couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking.

Even last night with Steve's arm around you. The night calm. Quiet. The cool lull of the fan, the distant noise of nighttime traffic. You were restless. The day had followed suit.

You were surprised to find Steve had gotten home before you. His shoes were by the door, his brown leather jacket hung just above them, his wallet and keys on the table.

You sat on the bench and removed your shoes. You rubbed your back and sighed. You stood and slipped out of your tweed jacket and hung it beside his. You stretched as you crossed the living room. Your loft was airy but cozy.

The glass ceiling let in both sunlight and starlight. The wooden floors well worn, the rug beneath the sofa gave the space order. Wartime firearms hung on the walls alongside vintage pop art.

Steve would usually be on the couch, sprawled out and ready to snuggle. Or in the kitchen, hammering pots and pans on the stove top. But not today.

You entered the bedroom. You stopped short. He was there with his back to you. He faced the dresser as he examined the objects lined across it. He knew you were there. With his super soldier hearing, he'd have known the moment you stepped off the elevator.

He turned to you. He smiled but it wasn't the toothy grin you had fallen in love with. The smile he gave as he was covered in his own blood and you were berating his recklessness. This was a smirk.

So unlike shield throwing persona. Devilish. Plotting. The man who had fucked you on Tony Stark's jet after your missions. The one who had bent you over a bathroom counter in a restaurant on your first anniversary. And your second.

"Steve," You tried to look past him but he blocked you with his broad figure. "What's going on?"

"Honey," His voice was smoky. He had been home for a while. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Got out early. Thought I'd surprise you. You've seemed so... tense."

"Babe, you didn't have to--" You glanced around him and saw the small bullet vibe at the edge of the dresser. It wasn't the one you hid in your panty drawer. "Ah."

"You didn't sleep well," He blocked your view once more. "Is it work?" You frowned but didn't answer. He was behaving oddly. "Or is it because you lied to me?"

"Lied?" You echoed. "What do you--"

"You know what I mean," He interrupted.

He grabbed your shoulders. He carefully turned you and guided you back to sit on the bed. You peeked over at the dresser. It was lined with an array of toys. You blinked and Steve took your chin his hand and made you look at him.

"Last night…"

You recalled the scene. Steve on top of you, your legs around him, body's writhing together. It was amazing but just not enough. He trembled and you sensed his ascent. You moaned his name over and over. You tensed your thighs and arched your back. He came and rested his weight over you.

He saw right through your act. You knew it then but you thought he would let it slide.

"I never want you to fake it with me. I'm not like the boys before me."

"I was tired, Steve, it wasn't you, it--"

"It's okay. I'm not mad." His chest rose and fell as he looked you up and down. "I only... I want you to show me the real thing. I want to see you get off...in every way possible. I want to know every little spot that makes you wild." He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. "I wanna be the man you never have to lie to."

"Steve, it's late, I…"

"I know desk duty is awful but you shouldn't have hit the drone." He raised a brow. "Besides, I don't want you to think about work. Fuck work."

"Steve--"

"I don't like lying. You know that. So you have two choices. I can take all these toys and toss them. The ones in your drawer too. And you can suffer, alone." He crossed his arms. "Or you can use them for me. Teach me." He pushed his shoulders back. "Your choice, honey?"

"You said you weren't mad," You countered.

"I'm not," He bent down and placed a kiss on your lips. "Not yet."

He straightened up and strode to the dresser. He picked up the silver bullet vibe and held it up.

"First step is easy." He spun the vibe between his fingers. "Get undressed."

You stared at him. You laughed. He was kinky but this was outlandish. Your eyes fell to the row of toys and slowly your smile faded. He definitely wasn't kidding.

"So was it option one then?" He lowered the vibe and his expression turned sober.

You stood and pulled off your blazer. He nodded in approval and watched as you hung it over the stool for your vanity. You unbuttoned your blouse and your chest fluttered as you looked at the dresser again. Some of those were big. Intimidating, even.

You quickly stripped. The tension spurred you on. When you were down to your underwear, he gestured for you to continue.

Completely naked, you let him sit you on the end of the bed. He pushed your knees apart and handed you the vibe. He cleared your clothes onto the top of the vanity and grabbed the stool. He sat across from you.

"Whenever your ready. I'm waiting. Watching. Every single move."

You took a breath. You slid your tongue between your teeth and brought the vibe up. You clicked the button and it began to quake.

You looked at Steve. He gripped his knees and leaned forward just a little.

You pressed the vibe along your thigh. The shiver it sent through you was more than anticipation. You glanced at the dresser again. Steve tutted.

"Focus on the task at hand." He chided.

Your eyes flashed at him. His own twinkled. A wordless warning. The last time he looked at you like that, he soon had you on your knees. The backseat of your car just outside your mom's house. You recalled it fondly.

You glided the toy along your leg and down your vee. You pushed between your lips and it sent a shockwave through your clit. You gasped but Steve didn't flinch.

You drew circles and dragged the tip up and down your folds. You mimicked the same motions you made when you were alone. It sent a thrill through you. The vibrations. Your observer. It was peculiar. So unlike anything you felt before.

Your arousal spread beneath the vibe. The sensation of your own juices added to the tendrils as they stretched along your flesh.

Your legs bent without thinking. Your feet arched and you pushed your chest out. You clamped your lips together as the river rose within you.

"Don't hold back. I want to hear it." Steve said. "This is about honesty. Remember?"

You moaned and leaned your head back. The sound that rose from you was wild. The basest cry from the depths of your core. You came as the vibe pulsed against your clit. You pressed your palm flat and rode the waves.

You fell back and let the vibe tumble to the mattress. It vibrated against your leg as you panted. You twitched and mewled until the ripples stilled and left you weak.

You sensed movement and lifted your head. Steve took the vibe from between your legs and shut it off. He tossed it on the dresser and grabbed another toy. A plug. In his other hand, lube too.

"Next," He demanded as he dropped them beside you. He tickled your knee with his fingers. "We're just getting started, honey."

You sat up and took the plug. It was slightly bigger than the one he normally used on you. You bit your lip and held it between your index and middle fingers.

"Let me see," He intoned. "This is as much for you as it is for me... how else will I learn?"

You stood and turned around. Your reached for the lube and bent over. You squirted the cool oil down your crack and listened to the stool creak. You pushed the plug along your ass, just between your cheeks.

You heard his breath. Excited. You smothered the toy in lube and lined it up with your hole. Slowly, you pushed inside. Each little bit stretched you until it slipped to its limit. Just the ring remained outside.

You groaned. The fullness was more than you were used to but it was delightful. He hummed in approval.

"Take the next one," His sultry voice swirled in your ears.

You stood slowly. You walked carefully to the dresser. Next was a rabbit; a dildo with a small attachment for your clit.

"As you were before," Steve instructed. "Don't stop till you cum."

You crossed to the bed. You sat gingerly. The plug made you shiver. You laid back and switched on the pink vibrator. You rubbed it along your bud until it was slick. Your thighs trembled.

You licked your dry lips and pushed the dildo inside. Steve purred and it added to the rumble within. You turned the toy so that its arm pressed against your clit. You moaned louder than before.

You moved the toy in and out. It stroked your clit with each motion. Your voice didn't sound like yours. You shook as the plug added to the pressure and made the vibrations run even deeper.

Your breath was shallow; frantic. You needed to cum. You felt it in your core. The urgency as if you needed to pee.

You came and pulled the dildo out. Your orgasm gushed between your thighs and onto the bed. You were rapturous. Hypnotized. The sheer bliss wrapped you in its arms.

"Honey, honey, honey," Steve's footsteps were soft as he neared you. "You've still got a lot to show me."

He took the dildo from you. Again he clicked it off. He backed away and returned with another toy. This one was tapered; thinner at the top. He waved the purple dildo with a smirk.

"First, you gotta take this thing out," He reached with his other hand to wiggle the plug in your ass. "Then...well, you might wanna grab the lube again."

He shoved the toy into your hand and smacked your thigh. He backed away and you shuddered. You pushed yourself up and shakily stood. You looked to him as he rubbed his crotch.

"Show me how you want me to play with that ass," He growled.

You turned and bent over the edge of the bed. The matress was wet against your stomach. Your knees were on the floor as you set the dildo in front of you. You grabbed the plug and moaned. You pulled it slowly as you relaxed. It slid out and left you feeling empty.

You placed it aside and took the purple toy. You took the lube from the floor near the bed and coated the dildo. You reached back and did your best to spread your ass.

You lined the toy up with your tight hole. You shoved just the tip in and pulled out. You repeated the motion; once, twice, three times. Each time you went a little further in. You squeaked and paused.

"You can do it," Steve coaxed. "Come on."

You pushed inside again. You worked the toy in just a little before retreating. The pattern held as you got more and more of it in. The strain made you gasp and groan. Until it didn't. Until you were surprised by the sighs that rose from you.

You had almost the entire toy gliding in and out. You wiggled the toy when it was as deep as it could go and trilled. It felt wonderful. It was so different and yet so amazing. It was an entirely singular peak that built within you.

You looked over your shoulder at Steve. His jeans were open and his hand was buried inside. The denim moved with his hand. His breaths were quiet but laboured as he touched himself.

You worked the toy faster. A long moan escaped you, punctuated by a squeal as you came. It surprised you. Left you entirely stunned as the fullness exploded in a cacophony. You pushed the toy in and spasmed uncontrollably.

Your legs crumpled and you slumped to the floor, careful not to land on the dildo. It slipped out as you let it go and leaned back out of breath.

Steve stood. His cock was hard against his jeans. He pulled his hand out and neared the dresser. "Back on the bed." He ordered as he looked over the toys.

You crawled back up onto the bed, still clinging to the glistening dildo.

"On your back," You flipped over and sprawled out, legs over the edge. "Keep using that toy."

You lifted it slowly. You reached around your hip and angled the toy along your hole. It slid inside easily. You gasped. Steve came to the end of the bed. He held up a flesh tone dildo. It was just as big as he was.

"That's it," He watched you fuck your asshole with the toy. "Fuck, I never knew you'd like it so much."

Your tongue poked out between your lips. You couldn't speak. Only moan. He pushed the dildo along your pussy and you slowed your hand. He tssked.

"Don't stop."

You resumed your motion. He slowly shoved the dildo past your entrance and filled you with it. You thought you couldn't feel any fuller but it was almost too much.

Your pussy thrummed around the toy and your asshole clung to the other. Your head lolled and you shook. You were hurtling ahead. You came loudly and squeezed your legs around Steve's hand and the toy.

He slowed but did not remove it. He caught your hand as you tried to take out the other dildo. He pushed it back in. He held it there while you caught your breath. He watched your hooded lids as they fluttered.

"Again." He urged and began to move his toy. You kept time with him. You whined at the strain in your ass and pussy.

With his other hand, he pushed down his pants. His cock sprung above his jeans and he stroked it as he stepped closer. He bent his knees as he kept the toy moving. He lined himself up between the dildos.

He slowly pressed his head along your entrance. He stretched you as he forced himself in next to the toy. You exclaimed in surprise. It hurt but not enough for you to stop him.

He got deeper and deeper until he bottomed out alongside the dildo. Your hand shook but you kept the toy moving in your ass as Steve began to thrust. Your pussy throbbed around both cocks; artificial and otherwise.

Steve sped up. So did you. You brought your legs up higher as your holes were stretched to their limit. You could feel the heat again. The flames licked at your thighs and spine and filled your chest. You roared as you came again.

Steve grabbed your hand and kept the dildo firmly in your ass. He kept fucking you with his cock and the other toy. You were breathless, ready to pass out. He bucked his hips and grunted.

He came inside of you. It was almost soothing as his warm cum coated your walls. You sighed and spasmed again.

He took the dildo out first. It dripped with cum. He let go of your hand and the other toy fell out. He dangled the fleshy dildo above your mouth and pressed it to your lips.

"Look at your mess," He growled and you spread your lips around the toy. You licked and sucked it as he forced it down your throat. He fucked your face until the dildo was clean.

He pulled out of you and cum spilled down your pussy and ass. He threw the dildo on the dresser as he neared and grabbed another toy. Another plug. This one bigger than before. Almost as thick as the dildo.

He slapped your thigh and dropped plug on your chest. You caught it as it rolled and he waited. His cock had grown softer but not completely. His jeans were messy with your juices.

"Go on, honey." He winked. "I know you want more. You always want more."

You lifted your legs and positioned the plug. This was hard. The plug much bigger than the last. He grabbed the lube and squirted it on the toy as you pressed it to your hole.

You mewled as you worked it inside. Your ring closed around it and you were left unbearably full. You arched your back and rolled onto your side.

Steve stepped away again. He opened the drawer. You heard him moving around as you writhed. You touched your sore ass and struggled to sit up. When you did, he straightened and smirked down at the floor.

Another dildo, the same tone as the one he used on your pussy but longer and more than twice as thick, stood upright on the hardwood. Its suction cup held it in place.

"Wasn't sure if it was enough for you." He came to the end of the bed and grabbed your wrist. He pulled you up and guided you to the massive dildo. "Considering you had to fake it for me."

"I…I…." You stared at the toy. The plug in your ass made you ache.

"Sit," He snarled and slapped your ass. "You don't stop till you cum. And you keep cumming until you can't."

You gaped at the dildo. You stood over it as he watched you. You bent your legs and squatted until it met your pussy. You gripped it and angled it against your entrance. It was worse than the plug. The strain was unbelievable.

You took more and more of it. You squeaked and squealed. You cried out as you lowered yourself onto your knees. You looked to Steve desperately. He stroked himself as he watched you.

"All of it," He urged.

You sunk down further. You whimpered as you reached the base of the dildo. You exhaled shakily and grasped your thighs. You lifted your pelvis slowly. You rocked up and down the toy.

Even as it filled you with pain, you felt the flurry. The torturous sparks. You worked faster and faster on the toy. Your nails sank into your thighs and you threw your head back. The fullness in your ass and pussy had you senseless. You came with a trill.

Steve stepped in front of you. He held his dick and wiggled it in front of your face. He bent his legs and you opened your mouth to him. He plunged his cock deep into your throat. He was impatient.

You began to ride the dildo again as you sucked his cock. You reached back and pushed on the plug. You hummed around him. The pain faded. A footnote to the sheer ecstasy that flowed through you.

You used your other hand to play with him. You tickled his sack and stroked his length in time with your mouth. You drooled hungrily around him.

He grabbed your head and his pelvis crashed into your face. He came down your throat and your thighs twitched around the toy. You orgasmed at the taste of him. You swallowed and he let go. He pulled out and stroked his messy cock.

Your pussy pulsed around the thick toy. You were covered in sweat, cum, and spit. You could smell it.

You placed your palms flat on the floor and slowly rose on your knees. Steve gripped your shoulders as only the tip remained inside you. He pushed you back down and you groaned.

"You're not done yet." He snarled and he was hard again. "Keep going."

#Steve Rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #fic #au #mcu #marvel #captain america #dark!fic #Dark Fic #darkverse #Dark!verse #one shot

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 21

The Sergeant sprays me down next and I keep my mouth shut and breathe shallowly through my nose, but the same raw chemical odor still forces its fingers down my throat and makes my guts churn. I cough and the Sergeant gives me a rough smile that says something like ‘grin and bear it, soldier,’ and then he’s done and moving on to Klaus.

Ahead of us is the gate to the copepod barrows, a vast wall of metal set directly into the flesh of the Pit, with one of the ubiquitous submarine-style doors and a host of warnings slathered over the it in bright, eye-catching shades. One warns of hostile arthropods ahead and states that the buddy system is mandatory; another warns that the barrows are not area mapped and to exercise caution; another says that free fire is authorized and encourages rangers within to double-check their ID tags and to make sure they check their targets; a third states in bold letters that it is a felony for both civilians and non-combat-trained park personnel to enter, punishable by a fine of up to $1000, imprisonment, and administrative penalty, if applicable. A fourth states that there is nothing beyond this point worth dying for and practically begs the reader not to enter. The paint on this last example is peeling and the latter half of it looks stained by some kind of ichor.

My heart, which has been residing comfortably in my throat this past hour or so, does an ugly little squeeze and for a moment I feel somewhat faint, but I close my eyes and focus on the pounding in my ears and the feeling passes after a moment. I still have the tingles of anticipation racing up and down my arms, and my hands are quivering, though I can’t tell whether it’s out of fear or out of adrenaline overload.

Elena sneezes again next to me and I look over at her, then lean in. I know I shouldn’t ask, I know it’s practically pointless because the answer is obligatory, but I ask her anyway: “Are – are we going to be okay in there?”

Elena shrugs and looks at me with bleary eyes. “We’ll be fine,” she assures me, but there is an edge of tension in her voice that tells me the real answer isn’t nearly so cut and dried. “We have an…understanding with the copepods. We don’t fuck with them and they don’t fuck with us. Plus the pheromone spray will make us smell really unappetizing.”

“Even when we march right in and bother them?”

“When there’s this many of us they’ll think twice about starting anything.”

I neglect to mention that that cuts both ways. Or any of the other dozen holes in that logic that I can see. What if a copepod isn’t as smart as we are and thinks it can just scuttle up and grab one of us? Then one of us shoots it and they all take that as the signal to go ham on us? How smart are copepods anyway?

I swallow hard and push it out of my mind. Between the pheromone spray that the Sergeant is treating all of us with, including Joker, and Elena’s assurance that they do this all the time and it’s only somewhat dangerous, I am almost able to delude myself into thinking that we’ll be okay.

No, stop that. No negative thinking. These men and women (okay, well, woman) do this for a living and they’re paid very highly for what they do. If they say it’s safe, it’s surely safe.

Alright, says the little voice, whispering from its burrow at the back of my skull, let’s just ignore the fact that everyone has gotten very tight-lipped and anxious the closer we got to this place, let’s just ignore that everyone has triple-checked their rifles while we’ve been standing here, let’s just ignore –

Yes, I think savagely to myself, let’s just ignore all that. This is what you wanted, Roan, isn’t it, exhilaration and dangerous circumstances, right? This is the logical extension of chain-smoking, just more immediate. What would be worse, a death in twenty years of lung cancer or a death right now by disembowelment and then getting eaten alive by an arthropod? If you weren’t stupid enough to believe Thor when he told you that –

Elena squeezes my hand, interrupting my internal monologue, and then the foot-thick reinforced door to the barrows is swinging open at the Sergeant’s hand, and I have no more time for thoughts.

“Stick very close to me,” Elena reminds me, and I nod, not trusting myself to speak. There is a cold sweat along the back of my neck and I ball up the loose rubberized fabric at my thighs to keep my hands from shuddering.

One by one we file into the barrows, and then the Sergeant seals the door behind us, trapping us inside. All around me I hear sounds of slug rifle actions being racked and shells being chambered. I see Euler, just a few feet away, swallowing hard, pressing rarely used buttons on the controller, and see Joker, correspondingly, flash on a pair of headlights and unsling its rifle from around its shoulders, tossing the meter-long gunmetal rod around like it were a toy.

I look around at the barrows and to my immense surprise my initial reaction is disappointment. I guess I had anticipated surroundings even stranger than the rest of the Pit, something really weird to mark that we’re in the part of the map where the optimistic medieval cartographer would draw sea serpents rather than blank space, but the flesh on the inside of the vast stainless surgical-steel retaining wall is just as rugose and squamous and eldritch as the flesh on the outside. If the wall and all of the warning signs plastered rather tackily all over it weren’t in the way you practically wouldn’t be able to tell that you’d crossed over the boundary into The Forbidden Zone.

Here be monsters and so on. None are immediately forthcoming, however, and the Sergeant resumes his spot at the head of the column and takes out the slim palm-pilot-like locator device keyed to the tracker on the crystal and points towards one of the dripping orifices leading deeper within, and where he points we follow.

There’s something meaningful there, I think to myself, as my boots squelch against the vast living floor and my eyes scrape along the edges of the vast living walls and my nose inhales the reek of the vast living space I’m crawling through like a parasite. Because truly there likely is no real meaningful boundary between the barrows and the rest of the Pit, it’s just a place the copepods like to nest. Perhaps it’s got the perfect temperature for them or it has an abundance of food or it has – some other quality that they desire more than other parts. But, I think as I crane my neck back and glare at the wall receding into the darkness behind us, that boundary there certainly wouldn’t have been one they would have picked.

Or perhaps I’m anthropomorphizing too much. Perhaps the copepods wouldn’t have picked anything, perhaps their range is the same as the range of their tinier oceangoing fellows, spreading wherever they might and if the surroundings aren’t suitable to support their life, they die.

I remember Peter’s tale of the copepod that wanted to see the sunlight and wonder, and then fifteen minutes later I see my first copepod and the sight of the massive crustacean shatters whatever pondering introspectiveness that I had summoned to, I realize now, shield me from the brutality I had been anticipating.

The copepod, at any rate, was small, at least according to Elena. I had underestimated their bulk, just based off of Peter’s story. This one was the size, perhaps, of a smallish boat, and streamlined roughly the same, a bulbous cigar-like body tapering at both ends to a tail and to a head, with a pair of reticulated arms terminating in creepy little hands with long grasping fingers. Something about their five-fingered familiarity filled me with dread, and watching the way the copepod cocked its head at us from the warty, encrusted protuberance it had partially emerged from, I thought I could have detected a canniness to it that shattered my half-conceived notion of the copepods as being simply overgrown louses or similar. It was, I realized, sizing us up.

Evidently we were present in numbers large enough to prove unpalatable, for it retreated back into its hole with a squelching noise like a fart and let us be. I breathed out a sigh of relief when it went and Elena squeezed my hand.

My initial impressions were wrong, anyway, because the deeper we go the more the flesh around us seems to crinkle and whorl and shrink down, without really losing any volume or pressing down further against us, without restricting our movement overly compared to the flesh outside. It’s as though this portion of the Pit were, for whatever reason, much older than the rest, although that doesn’t really make any sense, and what I’m seeing are all the assorted wrinkles and liver spots and jaundices that would come from that age. It sags in here, the ceiling bulges downwards and blisters occasionally, wet and fragile-looking and dripping in places. I think I can smell ballast and I discover that that night only – Christ, only a day ago, had imprinted something indelible and Pavlovian into me, for with the smell of the ballast I only felt my knees weaken slightly and my pulse quicken whenever I glanced at Elena, which was frequently.

Encounters with copepods become gradually more common the deeper we press. We see them all over the place, great overgrown louses burrowing amid the flesh, peeking out at us blearily or waving their rotund abdomens as they struggle, pale and phallic, to force themselves into reluctantly elastic orifices. Many times they look at us, eyes like faceted obsidian paperweights sunk in their broad, plated skulls, and I feel the same eerie sense of sizing up that I had noticed before, the same sense of analysis, but not a single one of them even makes a move in our direction.

Two hours in I incline my head closer to Elena and ask her how smart these things are, really, and she shrugs, her shoulder nudging at my chin. “I don’t think anyone really knows,” she says, “but the conventional wisdom is that they’re about as smart as five-year-olds.”

I think about that, really think about it, about what that implies. I remember being five; I was conscious and functional, if a little stupid and naïve. I couldn’t have fended for myself but I was also a soft, coddled human child, not an arthropod the size of a truck. I know cockatoos and dolphins are about as smart as three-year-olds, I know that some cephalopods like cuttlefish are supposed to be rather intelligent as well.

Maybe it’s too much of an abstraction. Saying something is as smart as a five-year-old implies a number of things and invites the listener to imagine various things that are true about five-year-olds that might not necessarily be true about the animal in question. Perhaps a copepod is only as smart as a five-year-old in certain areas, like in recognizing itself in a mirror or foraging for food or in performing certain types of logic puzzles. Perhaps –

“You okay?” Elena asks me, and I realize I’m doing it again, I’m retreating into myself as a sort of anticipatory cringe. The air is electric in here and though nothing has happened so far some deep-seated monkey part of my brain knows that we are in a capital-letter Bad Place with Bad Things in it that want to do Bad Acts to my poor little monkey body, and if I go analytical, if I shove all of my thought into the high-level abstract end of the spectrum maybe it won’t hurt so bad when I’m being eaten alive.

Stop. Here and now, Roan, I tell myself. Psychoanalyze yourself later.

Elena nudges me and repeats herself and I realize with a kind of aching clarity that I am very, perhaps mortally frightened, and when I look at her all that I want, all that I need, on some kind of overpowering molecular level, is for her to hold me very tightly until this is all over. I think my lip even trembles a little, and I can tell from the tiny judder in her eye when it does that she notices. I don’t even have the presence of mind to curl my lip at myself at this effervescent and overly enthusiastic gesture of weakness. I must be losing my touch.

Elena takes a hand off her rifle and knits her gloved fingers awkwardly with mine, and then she does something with her radio and then I can hear her, as close and as clear as if she were inside my helmet with me.

“Roan,” she says, adding quickly that this is one-way only, some sort of ranger trick with the equipment that would take me too long or be too technical to replicate on my end, “I know you’re scared but you’ve been so strong so far and I’m so proud of you. I – “ she says, and then she breaks off for a moment, and I recognize in the silence a kind of precipice that she is dangling off of and she doesn’t know for a moment whether or not to let go or to pull herself back up. I’m smiling, I’m staring at her and I’m smiling and willing her to just tell me, to open up and say whatever it is she wanted to say, to not think for just a moment, but when she speaks again I can see that she brought herself back from it and is taking a more measured approach, she is looking before she leaps, which although reasonable leaves me aching with the desire to hold her, to put my hand to her cheek and tell her that no matter what she wanted to say to me I would have wanted to hear it.

“I am so glad,” she says finally, “that I kissed you, I’m so glad that all of this happened between us, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you down here. I promise.”

And then I reach over and slip my arm around her hip and tug her into me and although I cannot really tell her how I feel without clunking my helmet against hers and yelling I think she gets the idea that I do feel better.

We spend the next half hour or so with her radio still linked up to mine and with her low voice like cool water whispering comforting, sensual things directly into my ears, and though more copepods – or perhaps just a rotating menagerie of the same five or so, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference – come and inspect us warily from a safe distance, clinging to the walls and prodding their heads out of vents as we pass, I manage not to feel too frightened of them.

Elena tells me about herself, about the year she spent in France after she graduated high school and her parents still thought she was going to go to college, about the time she cracked a rib from laughing too hard, about the time that she got into a car accident and it turned out to be an ex-boyfriend that she had rear-ended and they ended up getting back together and he rear-ended her, and she says this last with a lascivious little grin I can hear very clearly and it both makes me picture it and bite my lip a little and makes me snicker because it is the dumbest way to refer to sex that I’ve ever heard, and I realize that it has been far, far too long since I’ve had a friend like this, someone who’s been willing to expose at least a little of their life to me without heavy editing getting in the way. I learn that she drinks but not heavily, that she likes the taste of whiskey but doesn’t like how drunk it gets her, that she tried to smoke a cigarette once and vomited all over her shoes and has never been able to smell cigarette smoke without feeling vaguely nauseous afterwards.

I feel a little jolt of serendipity blossoming in my heart, and I think of the crumpled pack of cigarettes, still half-full, laying in the muck at the bottom of the vent to the ballast bulb.

I learn that she likes jazz music and blues music and that one of her favorite musicians is Dave van Ronk but that she also (she admits with a wry little shake of her head) likes pop music and that she also feels vaguely ashamed of it whenever she looks at the small stack of CDs she keeps with her things back in the barracks. I learn that Fall Out Boy and Green Day have made the list, along with some Coltrane and Louis Armstrong, but also Five Iron Frenzy and Cold War Kids and Florence and the Machine and Queens of the Stone Age and Pearl Jam.

She tells me about how when she was a kid she wanted to be a figure skater and trained for so long and so hard but she didn’t have enough talent to really do it at a meaningful level, and her dream was always to go to the Olympics for it but it was something that she had leave behind, and she had ended up channeling that competitiveness and drive and motivation into diving instead and found that she was good at it, that she was beyond good at it, that she found a freedom there underwater that she hadn’t expected, and she had grabbed it like a quarterback and ran with it until she had ended up here.

She tells me about high school, how she was one of the lacrosse girls, and instantly I ache for her in a way that’s almost palpable, because one of my first real crushes on a girl had been in the senior year of high school, and every day I would walk across the bridge to the cafeteria at the same time that she was coming back with a group of her friends, wearing that blazing maroon and white oversized polo shirts that I found so indelibly attractive, and it had awoke something in me that had apparently decided afterwards to fall back asleep afterwards, with mild snoring in college, until it finally burst out of bed roughly four days ago at 2 PM in the metaphorical afternoon with a panicked look at the alarm clock.

There is a lull in the one-sided conversation for a moment and I look over at her wondering if something is wrong but I catch her staring at me with an abundantly warm look of open fondness on her face that immediately pushes a rising heat into my cheeks and makes me look away quickly.

She tells me that she likes my body, that she knows I think I’m too skinny and frail and what the hell ever else I think is wrong with me but she thinks my face and my big wonky Roman nose is terrifically aesthetic. She loves the little dimples I have just above my ass, and she loves my ass and the way I make a little animal grunting noise in my throat whenever she squeezes or spanks it. She loves the way that I’m so thin that she can wrap both her arms around me and hold me very tight and feel me wriggle against her. She loves the way that I nuzzle against her in my sleep and the way that, occasionally, she’s noticed, I mumble things and give her affectionate, uncoordinated kisses without ever waking up, and then press myself back into her bosom and settle down again.

She loves the way I cry out softly when I cum and dig my nails into her without meaning to, and she loves the way that my tongue knows exactly what to do when I lap at her. She loves how I taste and how I smell and even though it’s been a couple days of hard work and neither of us are particularly fresh as daisies at the present moment she’s loved giving me impromptu baths with wet-wipes so she has another excuse to cup my small breasts and watch my cheeks color when her thumb and forefinger come together on my small, sensitive nipples. She likes the way that I’m more passive than she is, that she gets to take charge, she likes the trust I show her when I do that and she promises to never, ever abuse it. She likes the way that I look at her when her hand is squeezing gently around my throat, the way my mouth drops halfway open and I practically start to pant I want it so bad.

Halfway through this list I had begun to feel embarrassed, but I’ve wrapped all the way around and ended up feeling fuzzy and clear and incredibly, incredibly warm.

She has a whole litany of these things that she loves about me and I end up grinning so widely as she recites them to me, her tone growing slowly more and more pleased as she does so, that I flash a copepod a dazzling smile from about thirty feet away and I amuse myself by imagining that it looks confused as it turns and thrusts itself back into the flesh of the wall.

I wish I had some adequate way to tell her that nobody, not even Thor, has ever done anything like this for me. Nobody’s ever recognized that I was frightened and out of my element and distracted me so organically and effortlessly and unselfconsciously that I didn’t even realize at first, and by the time I did I was too flattered to care. I settle for just holding here there to me and listening to her voice as we pry deeper into the Pit, into the barrows.

With my hand there on the gentle swell of Elena’s hip and the crook of her elbow nestled tight against my side, the rifle clanking lightly in a rhythmic pattern as we walk, it is easy enough to forget that we are all presently in mortal danger.

* * *

We’ve stopped now, in the middle of a broad flat chamber that throbs like a drum to a sickly organic beat coming from somewhere below. It feels like walking on a waterbed. The Sergeant is stopped there ahead of us, staring at the locator PDA clutched in his gloved palm with a curious expression that on any lesser man I would categorize as either chagrin or hesitance, but either of those would be frightfully out of place on the Sergeant so I simply assume that it’s some trick of the light bouncing off the glass of the faceplate masking his characteristically immobile face.

I watch as he reaches down to the radio at his waist. “Veret,” he says, his voice faint and crackly in my helmet, “the Big Guy has it.”

He says this improbable phrase with such complete nonchalance that I think initially that I must have misheard him. Then the radio sparks and Makado’s voice, equally grainy, blooms in my ears. “Shit,” she says, dead serious. “Are you sure?”

“Locator’s pointing right to it.”

“I wish we had fucking known –“

“No time,” the Sergeant growls curtly. “Can we go in?”

Dead silence for a moment. It stretches like taffy. I glance over at Elena; she looks concerned, but whatever line Makado is speaking on has overridden the link that Elena had rigged between us. Her lips move softly and then she shakes her head.

“Alright,” Makado says, “go in.”

The Sergeant waits a full fifteen seconds before he acknowledges the order and then gestures to the rest of us and we trundle ahead towards the puckered vent ahead of us. It’s narrow, so narrow that we have to get out the jack again, the lower-powered spare one we had to take from the storage locker in the Listening Station after Slate had disappeared with the big fuck-off heavy-duty hydraulic one strapped to his back.

Poor Slate, I think to myself again, standing there feeling nervous and edgy here at the back of the pack, with only Elena and Joker there to protect me. What if a copepod scoots in, those manic rows of frilled rudders on its sides working overtime, and scoops me up in one of those creepy little hands, big enough to encircle my entire waist in one palm but spindly and altogether too delicate-looking to really embody the force and power I know is lurking behind them?

I consider the copepod behind us just now, thirty feet back and pale in the wan spotlight Joker is casting on it. The robot’s walking backward with inhuman surety, the slug rifle clutched in its metallic hands in a relaxed, low posture, but with the barrel still trained on the enormous arthropod back there with unerring accuracy. I look at the copepod’s massive blunt head and its dark, dark eyes, and it looks at me. It seems as though it had intended to come this way. It’s holding something in one of its hands but it’s tucked up against its body and I can’t really get a good look at it.

The copepod puts one hand out in front of it and pushes off and with a sort of bulky, lumbering grace retreats back out of sight and is gone. I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t realize I was holding.

Elena’s helmet clunks into mine. “It’ll be okay,” she says, a little brusquely, and then she’s gone, marching up to the front at some unseen signal from the Sergeant. Me and Euler are left to trade glances; he looks nervous, but he also always looks nervous.

I feel the temptation to retreat into myself again but I resist it. I grin at Euler, widely, with more carelessness than I really feel, and he frowns at me. He looks as though he’s going to be sick.

“Euler,” I say to him, leaning in a little. “I don’t know about you but this makes me feel alive.”

“Very invigorating,” he agrees after a moment, in a drab tone of voice. His accent’s slipped a little, he’s got a trace of the German coming out in the consonants now.

“You all right?” I ask him, and he shrugs.

“The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

“What, you’re not a fan of the surroundings?” I ask. I can feel a laugh at the back of my throat. I gesture around us, at the fleshy walls wreathed in shadow. “The scenic views? The locals?” I ask, eyeing the silhouette of a copepod scrambling along the ceiling far in the distance. It appears as nothing more than a great white tick rooting amid the remains of a piece of intestine someone has tossed on the ground in the middle of the night, lit briefly by our flashlights and then winking out of existence again. I experience a brief moment of nausea as the perspective seems to shift around me and I have to blink hard and stare at the floor to regain my bearings.

“We’re going in,” the Sergeant says across the radio. I stand on my tiptoes – not an easy feat in the heavy cleats – and peer ahead. The vent ahead takes a sharp curve to the left and – my breath catches – I can see an eerie, faint green glow emanating from it, the color of will-o-wisps and phosphorescence, the strength of about a hundred fireflies put together and flickering their hardest. It casts crazy shadows over the folds and flaps and moles and wrinkles of flesh on the walls, but we march around the corner just the same. I nearly plough into Fumi; I didn’t realize he’d stopped short, and he reaches back awkwardly and steadies me. Next to me I hear Euler mutter something under his breath in German and I frown and look over at him sharply but he is staring at something ahead of us.

I look ahead and see that we have fanned out into a rough semi-circle, and there in the center of the chamber, peering at us dubiously with an uncannily aggrieved expression on its flat, cracked face, is an absolutely enormous copepod. Its sides and back are scarred and pitted with age and it is missing an eye and a hand, but it has strewn across its tapered, bulldog neck a necklace made from what looks like fishing line and teeth, some of which – I blink, half-convinced I’ve gone insane and am hallucinating – look terribly human.

The copepod is curled over onto its side, and I can see beneath its bulk that it is resting on several animal pelts. Its one remaining hand strokes the fur idly as it watches us, and then it shifts a little, rolls over onto its belly. It raises its head and makes a buzzing, chittering noise that works its way into my bones and sets my teeth on edge, and a few vents on the other side of the organelle widen as two other copepods squeeze their way in. They start to approach us, mouthparts working, but the giant copepod gestures and they fall back towards the walls and simply sit still and watch us.

Behind the giant copepod – oh, of course.

Behind the Big Guy is a pile of what I initially think is trash, but as our lights play over I realize it must be more like treasure. I see more pelts, bits of clothes, disposable cameras, packs of cigarettes, jewelry, fishing rods, a set of tent stakes. I see shoes and shirts and flashlights, little bits and bobs, shiny things, precious things, all arranged in a massive pile there on the throbbing floor of the chamber. I can see a human skull, picked clean of flesh and yellowed a little, peeking out at me quite clearly.

And behind it, partially concealed by all the junk and detritus and cast-off relics that the copepods must have spent years collecting, is an enormous gnarled crystal, spiked as a sea-urchin, glowing with a pale green fire somewhere in its depths. I think for a moment, as I stare deeply into it, that I can see something moving inside of it, but it’s just my imagination. The winking red light of the radio tracker patch someone from the ill-fated science team had slapped onto it flickers wanly at us.

The Big Guy spreads its arms. Its mouthparts scuttle over each other for a moment before a hideous, strangled noise emerges from them, but as its croaks and grunts and screeches continue on some part of my brain manages to piece together a pattern out of them, and then I freeze. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my ears and I recognize distantly that my mouth has fallen open.

“What… you want?” the copepod moans at us, and as the Sergeant takes a step forward, his hands empty and outward in an almost supplicating gesture, and begins to speak to it, I feel my insides give an uncomfortable, shocked lurch, like the floor has just opened up beneath us and swallowed us whole, like the pit I’ve fallen into has come alive around me.

Continue with Part 22

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#mystery flesh pit #writing #writeblr #alt lit #Novel #original writing #Michael Crichton #thriller #disaster #acid

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wolvesofinnistrad · 4 years

Note

Emmett gets to be the top for the first time (prompt)

Thanks for the prompt, I doubt I’d have written Top!Emmett without it lol

Read on AO3

Travis and Emmett rolled around on Travis’ bed, bodies writhing, coiled around one another as their hands and lips flit everywhere. The room was warm, the heat from their shared shower seeping into the room, bodies mostly dry and shower fresh, smelling of Travis’ apple shampoo. Emmett loved smelling like Travis, whether it was his shampoo, his cologne, his sweat, even his cum, it didn’t matter. He’d never been more enamored with someone, and sure sometimes he wondered if it was just that Travis was the first man he’d ever been with, but when they were together he felt things he didn’t think were possible.

Travis made him feel alive, feel safe, like no one and nothing in his life ever had, and he knew that was special.

As Travis began to kiss down Emmett’s chest the younger man moaned. He was already anticipating where Travis was headed, mind unable to just slow down and enjoy the ride as it sped ahead to the ending. That was something Emmett was still trying to learn, to control his over eagerness in bed. Their first time he’d ended up cumming just moments after Travis had slid inside him. Thankfully his refractory period was still good and he was bottoming, so if his cock wilted a bit while Travis pleasured him it didn’t matter that much.

A moan clawed it’s way out of Emmett’s throat as Travis lips wrapped around his cock and his cheeks hollowed. The motion was so adroit, practiced and polished that Emmett couldn’t do anything but let his fingers curl in Travis hair and hang on. The first time they’d done this Emmett couldn’t help but compare it to the one and only time Alicia had ever blown him, how he’d barely been able to stay hard, how it had been so… Lifeless.

Travis on the other hand was like a god to him. His mouth drew sounds out of Emmett he didn’t even know he could make, and Travis had, on more than one occasion, made Emmett cum with only his tongue. He was of the opinion that Travis was slowly ruining him for any other man and he didn’t care, he only wanted one and that one was currently taking him to the root, tongue flicking over the underside and massaging his shaft so tenderly Emmett nearly wanted to cry.

The click of a cap made Emmett’s ass clench, an instinctual motion, almost Pavlovian from weeks of that sound leading to Travis fingering him and fucking him senseless. That was one of the best parts of being with a man. Not jut bottoming, getting fucked felt so amazing for Emmett, but the way he could just let go, give in and let Travis take control, take him apart and put him back together. Some days he felt like he was held together by a few fragile wires, but Travis knew how to tie all those strings tighter, to draw them close into some semblance of a man beneath him when he was done. And for a little while after, Emmett felt whole.

After a few minutes more of Travis sucking him he realized that the long awaited fingers had never come, his eyes finally opened and he craned his neck to see if Travis was doing something else. That’s when he saw Travis was kneeling there, Emmett’s cock in his mouth looking debauched and powerful, while also fingering himself slowly.

Emmett gulped, eyes following the length of Travis arms, his biceps, his forearm, the way his wrist bent at an awkward angle, hand and fingers hidden behind his balls and between his thighs. “Travis?” he asked, words escaping him because the man was still sucking his brains out and he was so turned on it felt like his tongue was made of lead.

Travis pulled off his dick, swirling his tongue around the head a few more times to draw a whimper out of Emmett before he smiled up at him. “Yeah rabbit?”

A blush spread across Emmett’s cheeks and his head fell back. He was unreasonably fond of that nickname Travis had used for him, he barely understood it but it made his heart beat fast every time. “I… Are you going to do me, or, uh, do you want me to help you with that?”

Travis chuckled and he watched him pull his fingers free, wiping them on their towel. “Actually, I was thinking tonight you could do me.” Emmett felt like his brain turned to mush hearing that. “We’ve been together a while and you haven’t gotten to top. I mean, I know you like bottoming, but so do I sometimes, and besides, I want you to know what everything feels like. So, would you want to try it?”

Emmett bit his lip, staring at Travis in awe. The man wasn’t just gorgeous, or funny, or kind, but also so strong, so caring, so perceptive. “I… I’ve never really. I mean, with, you know with...” Emmett trailed off, not wanting to discuss his fraught past with women.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be anything like that. The motions are kind of similar, but the feeling? Totally different. Trust me, if you don’t like it we’ll stop.”

A sharp nod of the head was Emmett’s only reply and he watched Travis smile, taking the lube and stroking Emmett’s cock, slathering it on from root to tip. Emmett was kind of glad he shaved his pubes off because that lube would have been everywhere stuck in them if he didn’t with how much Travis was using. His mind wandered to if that was how much Travis used on him but he suddenly was drawing a blank.

In that moment it was like he was a virgin all over again, forgotten every sexual encounter he’d ever had. His fingers gripped at the sheet weakly, brow furrowed in confusion.

“So, how do you want me?” Travis asked, smirking down at him, kneeling over him, and at least that was normal for Emmett. Familiar.

“H-how?” Emmett replied, his brain still stuck on the idea he was going to top. To have to be in charge and make decisions.

“Yes, do you want me on my back,” Travis whispered, kissing up Emmett’s body, “or on my belly from behind,” he bit at a nipple, “on my hands and knees for you,” his teeth dragged up Emmett’s trembling shoulders, “or want me riding you on top?” Travis lips found his, kissing him softly, drawing it out as his tongue slid into Emmett’s mouth and took control as he always did.

Just the thought of each of those things had Emmett’s cock throbbing, mind roiling with possibilities, each one more sinful than the last. “I… I don’t know...” This was such new territory for him, which was strange because it wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but after so many weeks of Travis taking charge, of showing him how to do things, of making him feel so good, it was strange to now be put in the decision making role. Travis had teased him that he seemed pretty submissive and Emmett wasn’t sure if he was really ready to deal with what that meant entirely, but he also didn’t think he could deny it.

“You really don’t know how you want to fuck me? What screams out to you, what do you think will make you feel good?” Travis was nibbling at Emmett’s ear now, whispering filthy words into the shell of it. Asking him so many dirty questions about what he wanted to do to Travis body it was overwhelming. Or it was until Travis began rocking the cleft of his ass against Emmett’s cock, thoroughly depriving him of any cogent thought.

The slick slide of skin on skin made Emmett groan. His cock head dragged across Travis hole, nearly catching against it and he knew he was being teased. Travis was asking him to top, but Travis still knew he was entirely in control. That became even more evident when Emmett looked up and saw Travis staring down at him with a lascivious smile. His thighs were bracketing Emmett’s body, his feet hooked back over Emmett’s hips, and his hands held each of Emmett’s wrists down flat to the bed.

“Come on big boy, I want you to fuck me, you up to it?” Travis words sent a shudder of desire through him, made Emmett sweat and want. He craved Travis, he wanted to please him, to make him feel good the way Travis made him. He wanted to be there for Travis, to make him feel safe and loved and protected, to make him lose his mind and cum on his cock.

Something shifted in his eyes and he tried to move, to flip them over, but Travis had him held down firmly. He tried again but Emmett just rocked on his hips, his cock bouncing against Emmett’s abs, his ass once again sliding against his already lubed cock. “I can’t… I want to please you, but I can’t get up.”

Travis smirked, his eyes predatory, hungry. “I don’t want you to please me Emmett. I want you to FUCK me.” This time Travis practically growled, leaning down and capturing Emmett’s mouth, filthy and passionate. He rolled his body against him again, driving Emmett to distraction. “I want you to please yourself with me, use my body for your pleasure. I want you to fuck me.”

The words echoed in Emmett’s mind and he knew in that moment this was what Travis wanted, wanted him to experience that control, that power, that raw ecstasy and so with a surge he managed to roll Travis over onto his back.

“Atta boy,” Travis laughed, smacking Emmett’s chest before his wrist was caught and pinned to the bed. His eyes went wide for a moment before a pleased smile spread across his lips.

“Roll over,” Emmett said, and he felt his voice waver a bit even as he tried to push all his confidence and strength into it. He manhandled Travis until he had him rolled over onto his belly, his hands drawing down that muscular back until he found his ass and groped him hard. He spread his cheeks, spitting on his hole which made Travis shudder, before slowly pressing two fingers inside of his boyfriend at once.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he breathed, his fingers moving slowly, feeling their way around inside, looking for that spot that Travis used to destroy Emmett every night. It only took a few moments before he heard Travis’ breath hitch as he felt a little bundle of nerves. “Right there?” he asked, trying to sound authoritative but coming out more uncertain than he wished.

“Yeah...” Travis hummed, arching his back, his pert ass moving back on Emmett’s fingers, driving them deeper as he moaned. “And you think that’s tight, wait until you’re inside me for real.”

Emmett heard himself make an embarrassing noise, followed by a soft chuckle from Travis that the other man was clearly trying to suppress. So instead he just rubbed a bit harder at Travis’ prostate and made that laughter melt into a moan. With a satisfied smile Emmett scissored his fingers a few times as Travis always did to him before pulling out and taking hold of his cock. He added a bit more lube before pressing it to Travis’ hole. “Ready?”

Travis didn’t wait for him to go, pushing back until the head of Emmett’s cock breached him and he groaned. Emmett was shocked for a moment, choking on the tight heat that enveloped him before he managed to grip Travis’ hip to stop him from taking any more yet.

“I-I need to give you a minute to adjust,” Emmett said, knowing that while true, it was more for him to adjust because his balls already felt like they might bust. Of course, Travis didn’t seem to agree. He just slid back more, engulfing Emmett until his balls slapped against Travis’ ass and he was fully seated. A high pitched keening sound came out and Emmett wasn’t sure which one of them made it, but he was pretty sure it had been him.

While Emmett was still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened Travis pulled off, the whole time clenching tight around him before relaxing as he pressed back once more. He was fucking himself on Emmett’s cock and milking him perfectly and Emmett felt like he might actually die. There was a brief moment where Emmett’s thoughts flashed to himself just being a human dildo for Travis to take his pleasure from before he finally snapped out of it.

“Sto-” he tried to get out, but Travis was fully fucking himself back on his dick now and even as Emmett's fingernails dug into Travis hips it was hard to deal with the onslaught of pleasure. His words were lost even to himself, barely more than a huff of breath as Travis slaked his own thirst for Emmett heedless of Emmett having been, he thought, in control.

Finally Emmett regained his bearings and he pulled back and thrust one time, hard, sharp and fast into Travis and heard the man groan long and loud. “I said stop.” He placed his forearm on the back of Travis’ neck, and his hand on his hips, holding his lover in place and finally Travis calmed down.

Travis stilled beneath him, for the most part. He was still grinding his ass against Emmett and rhythmically clenching around him, but he wasn’t really moving like before, and Emmett was grateful for a reprieve from the constant assault of pleasure and motion. After he caught his breath he began to slowly slide out and back in, setting a pace to go deep with powerful thrusts. That seemed to make Travis happy and he stopped trying to control the situation, letting Emmett take over for now.

They fucked for a while, Emmett finally getting a taste for it, feeling the way his pleasure blossomed each time he felt himself flush against Travis’ ass, buried to the hilt inside his lover. It was new and different and his cock seemed to take to the sensation brilliantly, feeling himself leaking, hard as a rock and aching for release already.

“Harder...” Travis breathed, and Emmett complied.

“Faster...” Travis whispered, and Emmett sped up.

“Fuck, right there!” Travis cried out and Emmett re-positioned to nail that spot on nearly every thrust.

Their bodies synced up, fucking in unison until he no longer knew or cared who was setting the pace, who was in control or doing what, only that they moved as one, Emmett and Travis’ hips rolling like the waves of the ocean even as a fire burned within them, between them, roaring to life and threatening to burn down everything around them.

At some point they had rolled onto their sides, Emmett tilting Travis head back so he could kiss him, one of his hands reaching around to take Travis’ in hand and stroke him in time with his own thrusts. Travis had his hand on Emmett’s ass, urging him faster, harder even as he rolled his own hips back in time to meet Emmett’s punishing pace.

“Emmett, Emmett!” Travis moaned, his body going taut and arching against him as his cock erupted in Emmett’s hand. Cum shot over his abs, sticking in his chest hair and drooling out over Emmett’s knuckles.

“Travis!” Emmett grunted, burying himself as he felt those contractions that forced him over the edge, pumping deep inside his boyfriend for the first time. His teeth bit down on Travis’ shoulder, feeling both of them shudder through their orgasm. After a moment his cock slipped free, a few more spurts jetting over Travis’ lower back and cheeks before they were both collapsing limp and lifeless on the bed.

After they lay there a while, sated and hazy, sheets stinking of sweat and sex and needing to shower for the second time tonight, Emmett kissed at his boyfriend’s back.

“That was… Different...” he smiled, resting his head against Travis’ strong shoulder.

“Sometimes I like someone else to be in charge.” Travis turned so he could face him.

“I was not in charge of that.”

“Maybe not yet, not fully, but you’ll get there. Until then, I'll just hold you down and ride you next time,” Travis whispered, fingers caressing Emmett’s cheek.

Emmett felt himself flush again and smile. “I’ll like that.”

“I know you will,” Travis laughed, kissing him softly.

Emmett realized that night that as much as he liked Travis making him feel safe and loved and protected, he loved the idea of being able to give that to Travis as well, that Travis deserved that stability in his life again after losing his husband. Emmett wasn’t always the best at giving that to people, but with Travis help he knew one day he’d be able to give Travis what Travis already gave him.

Safety, love, a second chance at life itself.

#tremmett #travett #travis montgomery #emmett dixon #travis montgomery x emmett dixon #fanfic #my fic #mine #Anonymous

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aurelacs · 4 years

Text

Ten of Wands

An Ezra/F!OC Red Dead Redemption AU

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

CONTENT: mentions of spousal abuse, ezra is doing his best

A/N: Howdy! This one’s going to be a little short because I sort of dug myself into a hole, but next chapter will be longer! I said this would be a slow burn :). And I have Plans :)).

This is set in the Red Dead Redemption universe, however there’s no spoilers for either game, and you don’t need to have prior knowledge of the games to understand the fic. I’m just using RDR for the setting and the time period (1899). Hope you enjoy!

chapter list | masterlist | read on AO3

II. The Tower

Ezra was intolerable.

His proclivity for talking mindlessly grated against Annie’s ears, who had grown so used to her mostly wordless self and husband. Even before she married, she was never one to speak much. Their first afternoon and night together was spent listening to him speak cryptically about the so-called “dealings” he had in the towns on the way to Armadillo. He spoke in code about certain men he needed to speak with, small jobs, some of which he called “ harmless errands,” as if that had any meaning to her. She couldn’t figure out when he took the chance to breathe. What all made it worse was Ezra’s incessant need to pry. Even though she did her best to pay attention, he still broke through. Her name, her life, what she was doing in Valentine, did she live in Valentine, how it was strange to meet a woman who was unmarried. Every question stung, dug a little deeper, until it felt like a hole torn in her sternum. For the time being, her one worded answers sufficed, but she could tell he was getting antsy.

The one dealing he was upfront with was an apparent debt collection he had in Blackwater. It felt nearly unacceptable to Annie. Blackwater wasn’t too far off course, but it was enough that it made her worry about bounty hunters catching either of their scents. Ezra assured her they wouldn’t be there long, but for Annie it felt as empty as every other word he had said since they reached the camp.

Annie hoped to find respite from Ezra as they settled in for the night, only to be greeted by the fact that he even spoke in his sleep. Nowhere near the winded soliloquies like when he was awake, but enough that it kept her awake well into the evening. There would be periods of silence long enough where she believed herself to be safe, and he would start up again. His words were never coherent; mindless babbles that effortlessly escaped through his pursed lips and furrowed brow. The light from the fire reflected against the curious patch of blonde hair that sat above his right temple. It wasn’t until what felt like hours after Ezra had first settled in for the night that Annie’s eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and she fell asleep.

Ezra wasn’t at camp when Annie woke up the next morning. She half expected all of his belongings to have disappeared with him, but when she rose to check, she saw his bedroll still laid out under his tent. She splashed some cool water from the river on her face to wake her up further before reigniting the fire that went out during the night.

“It is always nice to be in the company of another early-riser like myself.” Ezra’s voice was accompanied by the sound of gentle hoof steps as he led his horse closer to the camp. Two rabbit carcasses hung from the back of his saddle. His plan for the day, he said while unhooking the rabbits and beginning to cook them over the fire, was to head to Strawberry to take care of his first “errand.” The town was a couple hours west in the right direction. Annie didn’t feel the need to state her objections just yet. Ezra, for the time being, was the rope that could pull her out of the mire. With as deep as she found herself, she had little other choice. He pulled Annie out of her thoughts and urged her to eat, eager to make their way. He spoke fondly of Strawberry as he ate, like heaven and earth moved to accommodate the river town. He told her she wouldn’t believe how clean it was compared to Valentine.

“When the sun reaches its peak, it reflects upon the river like a luminous sapphire. It makes the entire town shine a blue the likes of which you have never seen, I assure you.” Ezra refused to stop speaking about it even as they packed up and began their journey. Annie quickly tuned him out. This was the furthest west she had ever been, even if the scenery had barely changed. The greenery felt more lush, the dirt of the road seemed to sink under the horse’s hooves differently. She wanted to take everything in as the threat of never seeing it again loomed over her. The thought gripped at her chest, ate at her to the point where she wanted to scream as though it was the only way to release the building energy.

It was hard to balance herself on the back of Ezra’s horse without touching him in some way. It felt inappropriate to grip her arms around his waist as the Belgian Draft wobbled along the worn path, but not holding on at all threatened to see her fall off entirely. Her cheeks warmed unpleasantly at the thought of putting her hands on another man while she was married, even if it was solely for practical reasons. Even if she was no longer married. Annie let out a beleaguered sigh and wrapped her arms around Ezra, minding to keep as much of her body away from his. If he noticed her awkward position, or that she was holding on in the first place, he didn’t remark on it.

“So, little bird, why do you need to get to Armadillo?”

Annie hesitantly remained silent. The question sent a small pang of fear down her spine, further adding to the tightness in her chest. Her bounty poster still sat folded and tucked into the satchel that hung across her body. Had he looked while she slept? She had given him so little the day prior that perhaps he felt the need to check for himself, and asking her now was just a test of how honest she would be for the rest of their time together.

“I heard there was a ranch nearby there that was hiring.”

Ezra turned his head to look at her and smiled affirmatively. “I do not know where the MacFarlanes find enough money to maintain their operation but there they are. The ranch is like a town within itself. I’m sure they’ll have something for you.” He paused for a moment. “If not, there are always plenty of general stores to rob.” Annie could feel his back shake as he chuckled at his own joke. She had the urge to smack him, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the derby hat off his head and into the mud below them.

“As I mentioned earlier, we are stopping in Strawberry because of a small enterprise I have that involves the post officers of this fine country. After I speak with him, we can be on our way to Blackwater.”

“I don’t see why we need to stop in Blackwater. It’s out of the way and I don’t want to give the b-... posse from Valentine more time to find us.”

“We have already crossed into West Elizabeth, the meager posse of a shithole of a town is not going to bother crossing state lines to look for a man that robbed a shopkeep of fourteen dollars. Unless it’s not just the posse about which we have reason to be concerned,” he laughed. Annie stayed silent.

Ezra pulled the reins on his horse to signal it to stop. Dread flooded Annie’s body once more. It wasn’t the volume at which Ezra held his voice, but his tone. It paralyzed her to the point where he had to pry Annie’s arms off of his waist to hop off and look up at her as she sat, frozen. The tone meant hurt. It meant anguish and run and cower. But nothing of that nature followed the tone as he paced silently back and forth a couple steps away, his hands resting on his waist.

“Little bird, I have been more than forthcoming with my information and backstory and I do not find it to be fair that you have since chosen to give me absolutely nothing.”

“Stop calling me little bird.” It was all she could muster.

Ezra’s voice softened as he approached. His question was hushed, like he didn’t want his horse to hear, like speaking it any louder would cause the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge emerge out of her so harshly that she would break. “Do we need to be concerned about more than a posse?”

“No.” Annie’s voice shook as the word fell from her throat. She didn’t know why he insisted on pressing the matter when they both made it clear that they didn’t want to accept whatever truth Annie was hiding, though hers was far deeper than she knew Ezra could anticipate.

“I am not getting back on that horse until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Annie was on the verge of tears as she reached into her satchel to pull out her bounty poster, still undisturbed. She handed it to Ezra and refused to make eye contact as he scanned over it. She focused above his eyes: his eyebrows, his forehead, the blonde patch that continued to poke out beneath the brim of his hat. His laughter rang through her ears.

“Do you really expect me to believe that you are a murderer?”

Annie looked at him sheepishly. If only she were able to project the image of her husband into Ezra’s mind. Blood pooling, chest open, dozens of pellets boring small holes into the wall and stairs. Would he be able to feel her fear? Tears did pour as the horrid sight refused to leave her mind despite how hard she pushed it. She jumped when Ezra reached out to gingerly touch her leg in comfort.

“Would you like to get down?”

“No. Can we please just keep going?”

He nodded his head silently and hopped back on. Ezra was quiet the rest of the ride, and Annie didn’t want to admit how much, in that moment, she needed his speech.

Strawberry didn’t quite live up to Ezra’s proclamations, but Annie couldn’t deny that it was pretty. And it certainly was nicer than Valentine. The town was built around the river, framed with elevated water flumes that ran from the mine above it. Each building was made from the same dark wood, giving it a sense of uniformity and quaintness that Valentine lacked with its painted siding. The roads were still dirt but miraculously weren’t muddy. Some spots even had flowers growing along the banks. Ezra hitched his horse on a post outside of a depot.

“I need to stop in here for a minute. If you’d like, up this road is the hotel. You do not seem up for much more traveling today.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Ezra was right. It was hard to allow the thought that he could possibly read her, even as well as her husband. Annie had overheard people in Valentine speak about the hotel. The mayor apparently wanted Strawberry to become a tourist destination for visitors of West Elizabeth and spared no expense for the hotel and town surrounding. As Ezra disappeared into the depot, Annie made her way up the incline. Her feet itched to make their way to the sheriff’s office to see if her poster was hung here as well, but resisted the urge. The act begged attention, and it’s possible this sheriff kept his notice board inside the office, which beckoned its own set of problems.

The best word Annie could muster for Strawberry’s hotel was ‘cozy.’ It was dimly lit with oil lanterns and from the light outside that filtered in through the windows. A gentleman stood by the front desk in a full suit, hands clasped behind his back. He greeted her with a “madame” as she walked in. The action nearly floored her. The man gestured over to a small board that listed the services the hotel offered and the prices: bed and bath, both a dollar each. Annie paused. It seemed foolish, overindulgent, to spend money on a bath, but her bones ached something unknown deep into the marrow that acted as a lure to drag Annie’s hand into her satchel, and dig out two dollars.

The bath room was upstairs on the right side of a landing, directly next to one of the two bedrooms the hotel housed. Steam had already begun to gather on the windows from the copper tub situated directly in the middle of the room. It also held a small cabinet with fresh towels, and a small table littered with tinctures and labeled vials. Annie stared at them all, taken aback by the sheer amount of oils they had, some of which she had never heard of. She poured in the one that simply read ‘rose’ and slunk into the scalding water.

Annie could have fallen asleep right there, enshrouded in the warm water and cradled by the heat of the tub. She dunked herself under and stayed there, letting it wrap around her over and over until she needed a breath. It was tempting. The warmth of the bath, the extended moments of privacy, the lock on the door, all called to her an enchanting song that coaxed her hand from down her sternum, to her belly, to the bundle of nerves at her core, when someone knocked.

“How about some company, honey,” a sugar sweet voice rang out from behind the door. A woman paid by the hotel to accompany the weary travelers who stumbled in. It wasn’t for her.

Even with the embarrassment creeping up her chest, Annie still managed to stay in the bath until long after the water went cold. It had been months since a proper bath, and she didn’t want to leave. When she left the bathroom, she checked three times to make sure no one was on the landing or coming up the stairs before making her way into her room in her towel. The bed took up most of the small room and Annie shed her towel and sank far into the covers with no regard for sleeping clothes or anyone walking in.

Her dreams that night were of her, naked, surrounded by darkness, a nameless figure with a blonde patch of hair buried between her legs.

Tag List: @immundusspiritu, @borderlinedindjarin, @aforces

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #my fic

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escapingreality1992 · 4 years

Text

A Fake Engagement Leads to Love

Wanda Maximoff x OC

When Rachel learns her ex is engaged, she feels a bit lonely. At a party, Wanda takes things into her own hands when she pretends to be Rachel’s fiancee. They are both invited to the wedding and a vacation. On vacation, things get heated between Rachel and Wanda. Feelings are revealed.

Rachel’s POV

I sat in the dark scrolling through social media, a habit I had taken up while on downtime from training with the team. Today in particular happened to be a day off leading into more before a part at the end of the week. It wasn’t an important one, but one to celebrate the end of summer. Bonus points for it not being thrown by Tony Stark. No, this was all Steve Rogers’ idea. Surprising right? Nothing fancy, but you were allowed to dress up if you wanted. I had already picked up my outfit for the occasion; a light pink, polka dotted dress. It was strapless and the hem stopped right above my knees.

I hoped to impress my crush on that night. I wanted to capture the attention of Wanda Maximoff. I hadn’t expected how I would end up doing it.

Under normal circumstances, I’d be on my phone with lights on, but in this case, it happened to be well past midnight; everyone had turned in for the night. Except me. I am a night owl and sometimes don’t go to bed until after 1 a.m. I kept scrolling, falling deeper into a rabbit hole, liking pictures or statuses, when something caught my eye. My finger paused, hovering over the tagged post of one of my friends:

“Liam Hanover was tagged in a status post. Engaged to Carly Ibsen.’

I blinked. I scanned over it a few more time before reading all of the congratulatory comments. Liam, my ex, was engaged. He hadn’t even texted or called to give me the good news…or that he had even been dating anyone. It didn’t bother me that he was now engaged, but it stirred a pent-up loneliness I had shoved away far in my mind.

No, I had been over him for years. I only thought I’d be the one who would marry first. The status change brought out a new sadness in my heart. I no longer thought I’d get married. Instead what crossed my mind was I thought I’d be forever alone.

“No. I’m all by myself,” I whispered in the dark. I logged out and put my phone on charge after setting an alarm for 7 a.m. Tears wells up, spilling over onto my cheeks as I buried myself beneath the covers.

The loud noise of my alarm woke me. I sprang up out of bed and changed into workout clothes. I pulled my long, chocolate brown hair into a ponytail and – as quietly as I could – left the compound for a run. One factor I didn’t account for was Natasha waiting for me at the front door; she was also wearing workout clothes, perhaps anticipating for me to come down the stairs this morning.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. Oh, shit. How can she know already? I thought. I pretended I didn’t know what she was referring to.

“What do you mean? I don’t…have anything to talk about,” I said. I paused when she held up the status post from last night on her phone.

“How do you do that?” I asked, motioning for us to head outside.

“I followed him after you two started dating. For precautionary measures of course. What I don’t get is why you haven’t gotten over him,” she replied.

“I am over him. That’s not why I’m upset. I feel like I’m going to be alone forever,”

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’ll find your special someone. There’s still time,”

“Nat, I’ve been single for eight years. You managed to get a relationship with Bruce within two years. Steve is with Sharon and Bucky had the woman who he met at the movie theater. It’s bad enough, I have to see Liam’s engagement, plus all the pregnant former classmates from school. Not to mention my cousin who has also found out she’s pregnant,” I said.

“You know… Wanda’s still single. I know you like her. Why not ask her out?” Nat suggested.

“For starters, I don’t know that she likes women. Even if she does, I doubt she would be interested in me. Plus, I don’t want to ask her out after my ex got engaged. I’m sure that will really turn her on. Like, ‘hey, Wanda, my ex just got engaged and I’m feeling a little lonely. Want to go out?’ Yeah, that will be so great,” I snapped.

“Don’t be grouchy. I’m only trying to help. If you don’t want to be lonely anymore, then do something about it,”

“You don’t think I’ve tried. Nothing has worked. Forget it. I’m going to get breakfast. Alone. Don’t you dare say anything to Wanda, Nat. I mean it. I don’t want her pity. It’s the last thing I want from her,” I said.

I stopped in the compound long enough to grab my keys and wallet. I left and spent the entire morning in a French café. I came back showered and picked up a favorite book to sit in the library with for a couple of hours. I’ll give Natasha credit. She didn’t say anything to anyone leaving me in peace. She left her plan for the party.

Saturday

I dreaded going to the party. Before, it had been about trying to impress Wanda, but now it was more I wanted to be with myself. My mind kept running back to the engagement post and I worried someone would see my pain. Wanda didn’t need to be one of them. In the end, I decided to go in favor of Steve, who really wanted all of his friends to be in attendance. I forced back my thoughts and held my head high as I stepped out on the rooftop.

“Damn, I wish I could pull of polka dots as well as you,” Natasha greeted me.

“Then I might have competition. I can’t let you beat me at impressing W…everyone,” I teased. Great. I still want Wanda to notice me despite of everything, I thought.

“Ah. I see. This is for Wanda. Are you sure you don’t want to ask her out? You don’t have to mention Liam. Just tell her how you feel about her. The worst she can do is say no,”

“No. I’m not feeling like myself. I guess I’m still reeling a little from the news. I think I’ll get a drink, maybe dance it out,” I said. She flashed me a thumbs up and left my side to find Bruce. I made my way to the bar and requested a run and coke to sip on. I watched the crowd, waiting on an upbeat song; I almost choked when I saw a familiar face. Liam.

“Fuck. What is he doing here?” I muttered when he walked my way. I turned around, shielding my face and hoping he wouldn’t recognize me. Luck was not in my favor tonight.

“Rachel? Is that you?” Liam asked me. I swallowed, forcing a smile to face him.

“Liam. How have you been?” I said.

“Good. Great, actually. I heard you moved in with the Avengers. Who knew you had a hidden ability? What was it again?”

“Oh, you know. Animal magic. I’ve always been good with animals. I never would have expected to be able to call them into battle,” I replied.

“Right. I got engaged to my roommate of all people. I guess things could happen like that. Let me bring her over here,” Liam stated. Of course, she’d be here, I thought. I fought the rolling nausea as he brought her to the bar.

“Rachel, this is Carly. Carly, Rachel,” Liam introduced us. Wonderful. I’m in Hell, I thought, shaking the woman’s hand. At least things can’t get worse.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” Liam asked. No, that’s a silly thought. It appears things can get worse. Not only that, but they were about to continue.

Wanda’s POV

I was mid-conversation with Carol, Bucky, Steve and Sam when Rachel walked in. The polka dot dress hugged her figure perfectly making it hard not to stare.

“Wanda, you’re drooling. Why don’t you go talk to her?” Sam said. I turned away and went to wipe my mouth, finding it dry.

“That’s not funny. I don’t want to interrupt their conversation. Besides she hadn’t noticed me yet,” I told him.

“Natasha is already headed back this way. Go talk to Rachel. Get her to notice you. If you want to be more than friends, you’ve got to ask her,” Sam said.

“I’m too nervous. Maybe later. Anyways, she seems as if she’s been in a bad mood the last couple of days,”

“If you talked to her, you might know the reason. Wanda, she’s one of your best friends. There’s no reason to be nervous. Even if you do have crush on Rachel,” Natasha said.

“Do you know why she’s been moping around the compound?” Bucky asked. Natasha nodded; her gaze locked on Rachel. The smile on her lips faded as she picked up on something else.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked. Nat quirked an eyebrow at my worried tone.

“Is there danger? You would be worried too if there was going to be an attack,” She laughed, shaking her head.

“No. No danger. Unless you call Rachel talking to her ex dangerous. What makes matters worse is that he’s engaged. Not to mention he’s brought his new fiancée here and he’s introducing them,” She stated. We all turned to see it playing out, Rachel’s body growing tense as it happened.

“Is that Liam? The one she dated a couple of years ago. Weren’t they close? Oh my god. That’s why she’d been mopey. She’s lonely. Hey, Wanda, where are you going?” Bucky said.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea,” I told him, floating closer to the three people by the bar. It might be a disastrous one, but it would inevitably bring Rachel and me closer together.

Rachel’s POV

The doomed question. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’ Of course not. Instead, I’m watching Liam live out his happy life while I wallow in loneliness. I was about to answer when the feeling of soft skin draped over my shoulders. I turned my head to see Wanda standing beside me; my pulse quickened.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Liam asked.

“She’s-,”

“Fiancée, actually. I’m Wanda Maximoff. It’s nice to meet you…” Wanda interrupted me.

“Liam. This is Carly Ibsen, my fiancée,” my ex said. I shot Wanda a look that said, ‘what are you doing?’ but she ignored it.

“Liam. Right. Rachel didn’t mention you’d be in town,”

“I decided to stop in. I heard there would be a party. I’ve never seen the Avengers compound. It’s funny. Rachel, you didn’t mention you were engaged, much less dating anyone,” Liam commented. Neither did you, I thought. I decided to play along with Wanda’s plan.

“We wanted to keep things quiet. We can’t have enemies kidnapping one of us in order to draw the other out,” I said. I wrapped an arm around Wanda’s waist, pulling her closer to my body.

“Oh. Well, you’re both invited to the wedding. Maybe we can double date before then. The wedding is in a few months. It’s an outdoor wedding in the mountains. Carly and I were thinking about heading down to the beach for a mini vacation in two weeks. Care to join us?” Liam said.

“Sure. We could have a little fun ourselves,” Wanda answered. With that, she lifted my chin up to press her lips against mine. A shock went through me and I gasped, allowing her to slip her tongue inside my mouth. Warmth flooded my body all the way to my toes; I clutched Wanda closer, drinking her in. We broke apart when someone cleared their throat.

“Okay. We’ll see you at Hatteras in two weeks. I’ll send you where we’re staying, so we can go out for dinner or hand out at the beach one day,” Liam said. He moved Carly through the crowd away from us, letting me adjust to what had happened.

“Wanda. What was that? We’re not actually engaged,” I said.

“Sorry. You looked like you were in trouble. I thought I could try to get you out of it. Though, you’re the one who pulled me closer with that kiss. You didn’t have to play along. You could have told him the truth,” she replied.

“Fair enough. Maybe we should keep this going until after the wedding. I hadn’t expected him to invite us to the wedding or go on vacation. Unless you want to cancel,”

“I wouldn’t mid some time off,” she told me. She grinned before placing another kiss on my lips and walking away. I stood there stunned but enjoying the way she made me feel.

Two weeks Later

Wanda and I arrived at the house we rented for the week. We would be alone for two days before Liam and Carly joined us. Two days of not pretending, though I wished the relationship were real. Unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to do anything fun today because it was storming.

Instead, we unpacked and opted for a movie day inside the house. The freezing house. I wish I had brought a blanket, I thought.

“We can share if you want. I don’t mind,” Wanda offered. After the party, I’d been too nervous to be close to her. The warmth I felt from the kiss had kindled a fire I thought I wouldn’t be able to control.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to crowd you,” I said.

“Get under here with me. I don’t want you to freeze your ass off,” I gave in snuggling close to her, relaxing immediately with the warmth. Instinct took over and I laid my head against her shoulder. She moved her arm pulling me into her body, my head now on her chest.

“Comfortable?” She asked. I nodded. Her hand rested on my leg, her fingertips meeting bare skin. Halfway into the marathon, I felt her hand move closer to my inner thigh, closer to my core. Electricity hummed between us, but I moved away to my original spot.

“Rachel, are you okay?” Wanda asked.

“I’m fine. I think I’m going to turn in for the night. I’m a little tired from the trip,” I answered. I got up and went to my room before she could say anything; I closed and locked the door behind me, sliding to the floor. What did I get myself into?

The second day flashed past by us quickly; we did our own separate thing, not interacting with each other. You could say I avoided her, and you’d be right. The night before confused me. Did she fell something for me? Was that why she had tried to make a move on me? These questions invaded my mind and I found I wasn’t able to be around her. I feared I wanted to do something about my own feelings. In fact, I had wanted to, but if she didn’t return my feelings the rest of the week would be awkward. Today, we had no choice but to interact. I received a text from Liam asking us if we wanted to grab dinner.

I didn’t want to cancel, so I had said ‘We’d be delighted.’ In addition, we both wanted to lounge at the pool until we had to get ready. My eyes constantly wandered to stare at her. Wanda had broken from her standard red to wear a deep purple bikini with a strapless top. Right now, she was sunbathing, lying on her stomach asleep. Meanwhile, I kept swimming, the water easing my nerves. I dove underwater, wetting my hair again and nearly jumped out of my skin when I came back up.

“Wanda, I didn’t see you get in,” I said.

“You were underwater. I just needed to cool off before I head upstairs. It’s about four o’clock. We should prepare to go to dinner. I want to relax a bit before we leave,” she told me.

“Okay. I’ll be up in a little bit,” Wanda left me alone at the pool and half an hour later, I went up myself. I entered our shared room, stunned to see her lying on the bed in only her underwear; the signature red had returned as a lacy thong and a bra that accentuated her breasts grabbing my attention. I didn’t think anything of it heading to the bathroom for a shower. When I returned, I was surprised to find her still in her underwear.

“Are you going to change any time soon?” I asked.

“We still have a few hours. I hadn’t planned on changing now. Why? Does this bother you?” she replied. My face flamed hot.

“No, I only thought you might be more comfortable with clothes on,”

“I do this all the time. I don’t see what the big deal is. We’re both women after all,” Wanda said.

“I already said-,” I gasped when she used her powers to pull me over to her. I landed with my body between her spread legs, my head against her chest. Wanda removed my hands from the towel wrapped around me, slowly unwrapping it. She pulled it from between us, tossing it to the floor. I shivered as the cool air hit my body, more when her fingers traced the outward curve of my breasts.

“Wanda…I don’t…think…” I began, the moan I let out silencing my thoughts as she circled them around the areolas.

“Don’t think. Relax. I know you want this. I know because I want it too,” she said. He thumbs grazed over my nipples, the buds perking up at the touch.

“We don’t have to pretend. Not anymore. I’ve liked you for a while. Let me play,” Wanda confessed. One hand moved to cup my jaw, turning my head so she could cover my mouth with hers. I moaned into it as she pinched a nipple; she rolled it between her fingers, the sensation driving me wild.

“Let me play,” she whispered, breaking the kiss. I nodded, kissing her again. She kneaded my breasts, pulling and pinching my nipples; wetness pooled at my center. One hand was kept playing with my breasts, while she moved the other between my legs, using her own to spread mine wider. Wanda rubbed my clit with her thumb, one finger slipping inside me.

“Fuck. Wanda, more please,” I begged. She complied, adding another finger and pumping in and out of me. I didn’t hold me back, moaning her name as the first orgasm hit, coating her fingers in slick, sticky cum. She shifted, laying back, coming between my legs. She licked a thick stripe up my pussy, my hips bucking in response. She continued eating me out until another wave hit and I came screaming her name. She came back up to kiss me, my hands unhooking her bra. I took it off, moving to slide off the thong, it too being discarded on the floor.

“My turn,” I told her. I flipped Wanda over prepared to pleasure her in all the ways I could. Finished having our intimate afternoon, we lay beside each other, our sweaty bodies tangled together.

“We should cancel the double date. Order in and do this again,” Wanda said. She stroked my arm, sending goosebumps all over my skin.

“Or we could go and come back to do it again. Besides it’s only one night. We have the rest of the week to have more fun doing this,” I commented. She smiled, leaning in to kiss me.

“One night. Then you’re all mine,”

Let’s just say we became official at the end of the week.

The Wedding

By the time Liam’s wedding came around, Wanda and I were officially engaged; no pretending necessary. We realized we had been in love a month after the events of the beach. This came as no surprise to our friends who had tried to push us together in the beginning. Sitting with her at this wedding while waiting for a wedding our own was the best moment ever. I held her hand as we both cried at the love shared between Liam and Carly, who would undoubtedly be happy for the rest of their lives. My heart brimmed with happiness while they shared their vows.

I sat in Wanda’s lap at the reception watching the first dance. Halfway through, we shared a kiss that was as magical as the first. I had met my soulmate and dreamed of the day she would become my wife. We danced having a good time, before returning home for a celebration with our friends. My loneliness had faded away, leaving with the most perfect woman I was meant to be with for the rest of my life.

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mcmaraudonald · 5 years

Text

a rainbow coloured mess

Pairing: Lucas x Eliott

Words: 1353

Fluff and Stuff, not a native speaker. Read on Ao3

By now the Tv was only background noise. Eliotts head was resting on his chest, their fingers intertwined, their conversation long stopped. Lucas wasn’t sure, but he thinks Eliott had fallen asleep again. He was like a large dog, cuddled to his side, one leg draped over his body, trying to make himself as small as possible, squeezing himself into all the small spaces next to Lucas.

The whole weekend had been much of the same. After running back to the apartment, still on their soaring high, they turned the bathtub into a rainbow coloured mess. When they finally decided to be clean enough, after maybe showering a little too long, loosing themselves in each other again, they fell onto the sofa, continuing to kiss each other breathless, just feeling the other one. Being so close, Lucas had never imagined it possible. After all this hardship, all this heart break to finally be next to him like this. Feeling Eliotts finger drawing burning patterns on his back, feeling his breath on his neck and lighting him on fire. It was overwhelming.

Of course they also talked about it, about what happened, about their “relationship”. He didn’t even have to think twice, when he told Eliott that he wanted something serious. It was such a stark contrast to the last weekend he still didn’t feel 100 percent certain of everything. But with Eliott next to him like this, it was hard not to hope and fall for him more than ever. And he really was falling hard. In the hours spend with him, Lucas learned more and more about him, so how could he not fall deeper down that rabbit hole?

For once, Eliott was the worst cook, with also the strangest taste out there. He would mix the most uncommon ingredients and conjure the most gruesome meals, Lucas literally had to barf his breakfast into the sink. He was also the most cuddliest person on this planet. Not a second went by where he didn’t reach out for the smaller boy. Like he had to make sure Lucas was really here and not a manifestation of some kind. Constantly Eliotts hands where somewhere on his body, running over his arms, clinging around his waist, his head in Lucas hair. But what he loved even more, was when Lucas pulled him in, hugging him closely from behind, playing big spoon and keeping him safe. Running his fingers through Eliotts wild mane. He nearly purred. No joke. Eliott also slept a lot. He could nearly see the rings under his eyes disappear. The separation seemingly also took a toll on him. But then again, Eliott only fell asleep when his large body was nestled against Lucas, and the smaller boy absently stroked his cheek and dropped kisses after kisses on top of his head. But Lucas wouldn't dare to complain, he was happy to serve as a pillow for this boy, more than he could ever tell.

Over the weekend they watched countless movies, Eliotts and Lucas taste of course a vast difference. Himself living for horror movies and thrillers, the older boy loving independent ones, the artsy kind, with epic love stories. Yes, he was that kind of cliché. But he really should have guessed, after the whole Polaris thing. Somehow though, they never really seemed to catch more than the intro of a film, too quickly getting lost in each other’s eyes and touches. Lucas heart constantly beating in hyper speed. Eliotts showering him with kisses, playfully biting light bruises onto his neck.

Slowly but surely Lucas could feel himself getting hungry again. He smiled, so the saying was right, you couldn’t just live a lush life off nothing but mere air and love. Quietly he slipped out of the covers into some sweats and made his way into the kitchen. He was just putting the pasta into a boiling pot when he heard steps behind him. It was really endearing, seeing Eliott like this. His hair tousled, his eyes still heavy from sleep. He was wearing one of Lucas jackets, which looked really hilarious, as it was at least two numbers to small, the sleeves far too short, not even covering his wrists. Lucas smiled as Eliotts hands encircled him and he pressed a small kiss onto his forehead. “Why did you leave? What are you doing?” - “I thought we should probably eat something eatable for once.” The taller boy chuckled lightly and tightened the embrace. “Maybe for people without taste buds. I thought the Poni was delicious.” - “I think you are the one without taste buds. It tasted like feet!” He just got his hair tousled for that comment. “hm, would you rather eat Poni for the rest of your life? Or feet once?”

That was another thing Eliott did, playing a little game of would you rather. It ranged from just plain preposterous questions of “would you rather have three arms or three eyes”, to more serious ones. Like the one he asked the night before. They were lying comfortable on the sofa, darkness stretching over them, Lucas mind unable to focus on anything but Eliott. Feeling every movement, feeling every kiss igniting a firework on his skin. Their clothes somewhere on the floor, the room filled just with heavy breaths and small moans. “Lulu?” He pouted as Eliott stopped dragging his lips over his body. He tried to catch them again, pulling his head closer to Eliotts, but Eliott himself seemed determinded to keep Lucas a few centimetres away. “Lucas?” “Hmh?” He was still pouting, damn it, he really never thought he would be that kind of guy, so unbelievable needy. “What is it?” - “Would you rather…” - “Really? That’s why you stopped kissing me? I still don’t know, probably the jumping 6 feet high all the time thing. Now kiss me. ” Eliott smirked and Lucas knew he could see right through his annoyed facade. “That’s not what I wanted to ask.” Eliotts voice was soft, uneven. This was something serious and he wanted an earnest answer, Lucas could tell. “Would you rather… do this all again with me? Or have the chance to go back and change everything back to the way it was?”

He could see the insecurity in Eliotts eyes. Could tell that there was a deeper meaning, a deeper fear even if he wasn’t sure what exactly it was just yet. But nonetheless the answer still was easy, simple really. “I would. I have never felt something like this. It never happened before.” He felt Eliott nuzzling closer, his mouth near Lucas ear. A soft whisper “Me neither.” This weren’t just butterflys in his stomach. It was a whole zoo.

“Are you staying tonight?” this time it was Lucas soft, uncertain voice breaking through the silence. “I told you, I am not going anywhere.” - “So, we’ll go to school together tomorrow?” - “Yes, lulu. I have to show you off tomorrow, so everybody knows.” A light laugh escaping his lips. “How are you planning to do that?” - “Well first I will walk into the common room and label that butt print on the wall as yours.” - “There weren’t any butt prints! I checked!” Eliott only huffed. “Yes, there where and you know it! But for now, I know something I like to do.” In anticipation of a kiss Lucas etched even closer, as if it was possible to be any closer than this. “Hmh and what’s that?” Instead of an answer Eliott leaned away from him and picked up his phone from the table next to the couch, opening Instagram and snapping a quick picture of both of them. He quickly wrote a caption and posted it. Lucas would be lying if his heart didn’t fly out of his chest right then and there, happiness practically overflowing. Lui. “You like it?” As answer Lucas just kissed him, trying to take his breath away, just as much as Eliott did his. Trying to tell him all the things he couldn’t yet manage to tell. You are the only one that matters. And I love you, I love you, I love you.

#skam france #elu fic #lucas x eliott #elu #Lucas x eliott fic #fanfiction #fluff #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #ficlett

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satbiym · 5 years

Text

Victuuri Alice in Wonderland AU

The Pen Is A Metaphor For His- by satbiym

Complete, Word Count: 2.4k, Warnings: None

"Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"

When a rabbit-person (?) steals his pen, Victor embarks on a journey to discover life and love, and what it means to be Victor away from the shadows cast by Victor Nikiforov.

AKA: Victor in Wonderland.

Read it on AO3 or Below!

"Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"

"Why, a raven eats worms; a writing desk is worm-eaten."

Victor gripped his pen tighter as the wind rustled the pages of the book he was writing his latest routine in, the gray, darling buds of May beside him shaking, sending their scent wafting towards him.

But no matter how hard the wind rustled, no matter how sweet the flowers smelt, the page in front of him was still blurry, writing unclear and unrecognizable.

What was he trying to write? What had he written on it before? Had he been the one to write it?

Victor blinked, trying to dispel the spots of white that were starting to cover his vision.

Laying the pen on top of the page he couldn’t remember writing on, Victor closed his eyes, putting the book on the ground beside him.

What was he doing ?

He couldn’t remember.

Never mind that, he knew he had to keep going, even if his bones were weighing his body more than usual, the audience had to be appeased. The show had to go on. Victor reached for his book and pen, only for his hands to meet with air.

Opening his eyes and blinking away the blurriness, he zeroed in to the person… no, that wasn’t right, people didn’t have tails . At least, not that Victor could remember.

But then again, he could be wrong.

But tail or not, the matter at hand was the pen in the tailed being’s hand, visible even with his back turned to Victor.

“Excuse me, could I please have my pen back?” Victor asked, doing his best to mind his manners, it was always good to be careful when talking to people with tails, Victor reminded himself trying not to remember the shots he once had to get because of being bitten by a monkey.

The short, black tail flickered at Victor’s voice, the ears - soft and fuzzy, much like a rabbit’s - atop the being’s head moving in clear response. Victor smiled, surely that meant he was going to get his pen back.

The pen was an old and beloved possession, he couldn’t possibly do without it. It was the only clear, constant thing in this world, with its gray flowers and blurry notebooks.

He wanted it back.

Victor reached out, but before he could, the rabbit-person danced away, taking with him Victor’s pen.

No!

He needed it back, it was the only thing he had! Please-

Victor ran after him.

But-

No matter how fast he ran, the rabbit-person managed to keep just out of reach, enough that Victor was left stumbling after his back, forever chasing, never meeting.

The wind blew harder, the gray flowers blurring into white, until all Victor could feel was the whipping of the wind and the feeling of loss and please, no, come back.

The rabbit-person pirouetted to a nearby tree and-

“No!” Victor cried out, as the rabbit-person, back still turned towards Victor, jumped into the large rabbit-hole in the tree. Without stopping to think or reconsider - he needed it back - Victor followed.

He fell, for minutes, hours, days, years. He fell until he could feel time stop and himself stand still with motion. But Victor cared naught, for as he fell, he could- he could see.

Bright, multi-coloured lights decorated the tunnel, so bright Victor felt like he was born anew. The world - no longer blurry and gray - was starting to show itself to him!

Finally, finally, Victor rolled to a stop, landing on his behind as the tunnel gave way to a room that was much too big, like it was made for ice giants of stories past.

The floor was ice, Victor realized with awe. He knew this meant something to him, something to the twisty-crawly feeling buried in his chest.

What did this ice mean to him? Why did its clear sheen send a shiver of anticipation through him?

But, never mind that, where was that rabbit-person? And his pen?!

Victor’s eyes fell upon the only door in the room, located six feet off of the floor; it was open, one lone piece of black fuzz lying on the ground beside it.

Narrowing his eyes, Victor ran to the door, only to discover that it was much too high for him to reach. He jumped, he ran and then jumped, he jumped and then ran and jumped, for good measure.

But to no avail. He fell every time.

The door was too high and the ice too slippery.

If Victor was just an inch taller then it would’ve been possible. But...

Victor felt his soul hollow out.

That pen. He needed it back.

It was all he had. It was old and tired but true.

Gold glinted at the corner of his eye. He turned to look at the corner of the room where the glint had come from, and there they lay, like a side thought, but clear and crisp.

Victor, for the first time all day, smiled, and reached forward.

Putting on the too-familiar gold-bladed ice skates, Victor flew.

The jump ( what was it called? He knew this once, why couldn’t he remember anymore? ) had enough lift to send him through the open door and crumpling through into a whole new world.

Victor gasped as he looked around, if he had thought the lights from the tunnel were pretty…

The land around him was filled with color. The flowers were too big, too bright, too consuming, the roads tinged yellow and pink. The air was green and the sky purple.

Victor hadn’t known so many colours even existed .

Victor felt his heart thump, and he could have stood there forever, if not for the glimpse of black fur out of the corner of his eye.

His pen!

“Stop!” Victor shouted, but his voice was garbled, like he was underwater, it wasn’t carrying through to the rabbit-person! He needed to try harder.

Victor forced his feet to push harder against the ice, but the rabbit-person danced out of his grasp every time.

“Please! I just need my pen!” Victor tried again, but the rabbit, back still turned, just danced faster away, until Victor could no longer see him.

“ Please,” Victor cried out softly, hands on his knees, “It will all be okay if I can just get my pen.”

But the rabbit-person was nowhere to be found.

Victor felt like the pit in his gut had just gotten deeper and hollower, like someone had decided to take a shovel to it. He didn’t know what to-

“Lost?” A voice called out.

Victor looked up, only to see a floating cheshire cat grin back at him.

Still huffing from the futile chase and well, this might as well happen, Victor said, “Do you know where that rabbit-person has gone?”

The grin, if it was possible, only got wider, as the purple and green cat, lithe and limber, twisted itself around Victor, cutting off his air until he was clawing the soft fur for some relief.

“Oops, my mistake.” The cat drawled out, a tongue licking its fangs languidly, “I sometimes forget that you pesky humans have such mortal needs.”

Annoyed, Victor glared, breathing heavily.

“But...” The cat said smugly, “I could know where Katsudon has gone, but then again, I could not.”

Confused, Victor said, “I want to know where the rabbit-person with my pen has gone! I don’t care about this Kastudon person!”

Those slitted eyes sharpened as they eyed him, very much like a predator would, as if trying to see if he was worth devouring.

“Old Man! Katsudon is the one with your pen! Is losing your hair making you lose your few remaining brain cells as well?” The cat said derisively.

Ignoring the insult and the urge to touch his hair ( oh , he had hair), Victor said eagerly, “Where did he go, then? Tell me!”

The cat twirled in the air, graceful and sleek, and threw out, laughing “It doesn’t count if I tell you, you need to figure it out for yourself, Old Man.”

And then he disappeared, laughter still ringing in Victor’s ears.

“Wait! I will give you anything you want, please come back!” Victor cried out, knowing somehow that the cat was still there, listening, waiting for just the right offer,“I will give you anything, please!”

Maybe it was the desperation, maybe it was the fact that cats liked to play with their food, but whatever it was, it worked.

The grin appeared first, and the fanged mouth spoke, childlike and sly, “Fine, if you want your pen back so much, give me those skates of yours. I am quite partial to gold, you know. Give me and I’ll tell you where he went.”

Victor felt his heart fall, those skates… they were… they had brought him to this bright and beautiful world, would giving them to this newcomer mean trading all this in as well? Without the skates, what was he?

And these gold-bladed skates… they were important to him, he couldn’t remember why, but they were the only spot of color in that gray, iced room and Victor-

“It’s your pen or those skates, Old Man, choose wisely…” The cat said lazily.

Victor unlaced his skates.

At that, the cat laughed, loud and delighted, and flew down to whisper a secret in Victor’s ears.

Victor closed his eyes.

He should have known.

Where else would someone with a pen go but a writing desk?

Where else would a dancer go but where there is music?

So, Victor left, sliding carefully with bare-feet on the slippery ice, and moved towards where the music, that he could suddenly hear once he was looking for it, was coming from.

The laughter was bright and loud, somehow louder than the music itself, with bright flashes interrupting the air every few seconds from a nearby camera. Victor flinched as the flashes hurt his eyes.

“Ah, there you are, Victor, we have been waiting for you.” A voice said, clear over the light and music and laughter.

Victor opened his eyes and saw a man with green eyes, wearing a tall, vibrant (why was everything in this world so bright ?) hat smiling at him. The rest of the people at the table, a sleeping mouse and…

“You!” Victor pointed accusingly at the rabbit-person who was twirling a little way away from the table.

“I have been looking everywhere for you! You have my pen and I’d like it back now.” Victor said desperately.

The rabbit-person slowed his turning, until the last turn was just him facing away from Victor. Thinking. Deciding.

“ Please. ” Victor said.

The rabbit’s ears twitched, and he slowly turned to face Victor for the first time in their acquaintance.

Victor felt his breath rush out of his body. That delicate face, those brown eyes, those plush lips, he… he knew them!

But how? Where?

Victor felt like crying.

The rabbit-person cocked his head and extending a (pen-less) hand, smiled.

Victor felt his heart thump in his chest, he didn’t- he wanted to take that hand, but…

“I don’t know how to dance.” He admitted, sad and alone and full of regrets.

Before the rabbit-person had danced into his life, Victor’s world had been gray and for a while, Victor thought that was all there was. But now… he has seen that the world was full of beauty and magic and music and life and love, and suddenly, sitting in a corner with a pen was not enough anymore. But the fact still remained, he didn’t know how to dance.

The smile somehow got gentler, and the rabbit-person let his fingers twirl towards him enticingly, as if-

“I don’t think he minds you not knowing to dance, Victor.” The Hatter said from beside him. Victor flinched at the sudden appearance.

“Plus,” The Hatter continued, as if amused, “I doubt he’ll give you your pen back if you refuse him this dance. He has been waiting a long time for it, you know.”

Victor looked at the soft smile of the rabbit-person and the sweet swell of the music that was building up to a crescendo. A crescendo Victor knew he couldn’t possibly be a part of.

“He can keep the pen.” Victor said, soft and calm, “It only existed for people to dance to, and I cannot dance. It’s better; less selfish for him to have it.”

The rabbit-person’s beautiful eyes widened, hand trembling, still held aloft.

Come dance with me.

Victor turned, ready to leave this place with all its beauty and wonder and color , and return to his old life of wind and gray flowers. But a hand slipped into his own, handing him something rough, before retreating.

Victor looked down and his eyes widened.

Ice skates! No longer gold-plated, but still weathered and loved and his.

Victor turned back, to see a hand still outstretched, waiting for him to meet him halfway.

The crescendo was coming, Victor could feel it.

Victor put on the skates and took the rabb- Yuuri’s hand.

Turned out Victor did know how to dance, at least where Yuuri was concerned.

And when the crescendo came, instead of the overwhelming swell, the music dipped, no less beautiful or victorious, but like the feeling of heroes coming home after a long time away.

Victor smiled.

That sounded right.

The point of the music, after all, wasn’t the crescendo, but what remained afterwards.

And, as the music came to a close, with Yuuri smiling brighter than all the lights in the sky, still hand-in-hand with him, the laughter of the Hatter and his friends behind him, Victor felt… complete .

The music had stopped, but the lights, the Hatter and Yuuri were still there.

Yuuri smiled and leaned in close, until their foreheads touched, and tapped Victor’s lips with his pen, winking impishly.

Victor laughed and laughed and laughed.

Victor woke up with a gasp, his and Yuuri’s laughter still ringing in his ears. Heart pounding, he turned to see an empty bed.

“Yuuri?” Victor called out, trying to keep the panic abay, he had just managed to catch him!

A patter of feet until the door opened to reveal a smiling Yuuri, bright and beautiful and his, and in his hands was a-

“Happy thirtieth birthday, Vitya,” Yuuri said, “How are you feeling today?”

Oh.

Victor smiled, slow and true, and looked at his life and love and said,“Pretty damn good, actually.”

"Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"

"I have written on both."

#victuuri #viktuuri #yoi #yuri on ice #yoi fic #victuri #vikturi #mypost #myfic #alice in wonderland au

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themugcollector · 6 years

Text

Random Robin thought for the day - The Journey Back From The Tower

So this story takes place right after the end of scene in Tower Girl - with Alice and Robin walking off into the night...

(It was part of a much longer story where Jerk-wad and the Troll mob catches up with them, but I think it works better as a stand alone tale.)

...

Robin nudged Alice’s shoulder as they walked along. The crumbled tower had disappeared from view and there was only the track before them, as night truly fell.

“So as birthday’s go, that wasn’t bad, right?”

Alice gave her a sly smile.

“It was fun.”

But then Robin remembered the mob and the manacles and she wasn’t so sure.

“I’m sorry before about ditching you in that cell. I just…”

“You just had a plan and I was disrupting it.” said Alice with a shrug.

“I’m glad you did though.”

“I’m glad I did too.”

Robin scratched the back of her head, uncomfortably.

“So yeah, sorry I was a jerk. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” said Alice still grinning, “I like you better when you’re not being a jerk.”

“I do too.” said Robin before realising how that might sound. “Me I mean… not you… I’m the jerk. Your perfect just the way you are!”

Alice gave a light laugh at Robin’s awkwardness and Robin could feel the blush creeping up passed her ears. She liked this girl. Damn it she like liked this girl. How had that happened so fast?

…

The rain started in a rush. The cool night air was suddenly filled with falling water.

“Here.” said Robin holding open one side of her thick leather cloak, inviting Alice to share its shelter. With her other hand she had tucked away her bow and arrows within its folds to keep them dry. “We’ll have to find shelter.”

Alice huddled close, and Robin tried to ignore the heat from the body of the new friend by her side.

“I might know somewhere…” Alice admitted. “If it’s still there but we’ll have to leave the trail.”

They’d driven far and fast in the little yellow bug and they had been following the path left by the car through the undergrowth. It was going to be a long trek back but now the rain was falling they didn’t have a choice.

“Lead on Tower Girl.” said Robin, her voice a warm whisper close to Alice’s ear.

Alice couldn’t resist adding playfully. “I will…Nobin!”

…

“Is it far.” asked Robin

“No. Not far.” said Alice pointing to a clearing with a broad blasted oak tree in its centre. “In fact it’s just here.”

“The tree?”

“It’s a good shelter. It’s were I spent my first nights after leaving the tower.

She found the crack in the side of the hollow trunk easily although it seemed tighter than she remembered… or had she been smaller? When Robin joined her in the dark but dry shelter of the hollow tree it also felt more cramped than before. But that may just have been Robin’s close proximity.

“See it’s dry.” said Alice trying to defend the musty smelling darkness. “There’s a place for a fire there.” She added pointing to a circle of stone under an opening that followed up through a hollow branch, letting the smoke escape but keeping the weather out.

Robin pulled out her magic Smart-phone box and turned on a bright white light that suddenly illuminated the cramped space.

“There is even dry logs.” said Robin indicating to a long forgotten pile of wood that Alice must have left behind when she had begun her journey to find her papa.

Robin pulled a stout branch from the pile and wedged it into a crack by the doorway. She then proceeded to hang her rain sodden cloak from her improvised hook; leaving the cloak to dry and also acting as a curtain protecting their shelter from the driving wind. Alice was impressed by the ingenuity.

Robin then pulled her fire lighter from the leg of her boot and set about laying the fire.

“You’re good at that.” said Alice as the kindling quickly caught and the fire started to fill the space with warmth and light.

“Yeah.” said Robin a slight wrinkle of worry on her brow. “I think it’s in the blood. We fairy tale types can’t escape a story even if we want to. I guess that’s a destiny thing. I’m Robin Hood. Give me a bow and a forest to explore and I can’t help but be happy.”

“And what story are we in now?” Alice asked, curious.

“Why we’re two Babes in the Wood; most definitely.” said Robin with a sudden chuckle.

“Hey!” said Alice hotly. “I am not a child!”

Robin looked at her with a wide grin but it suddenly faltered when Alice met her gaze.

“No, but you’re definitely a Babe.” said Robin slowly, an unexpected blush colouring her cheeks.

Alice’s brow could only furrow in confusion.

“Is this another case with you having words that mean something else?”

“Maybe…”

…

With the fire burning the little shelter it was almost homely.

“I guess we knuckle down and get some rest.” said Robin, finding a comfortable spot on the sandy soil and lying down, bending her knees slightly to stop her feet knocking the opposite wall.

“Very well.” said Alice, who’d been sat beside the fire. She wriggled around, settling right next to Robin and curled against her side.

“Okay!” squeaked Robin, surprised by this sudden intimacy.

“Good-night.” muttered Alice snuggling closer, unaware of the effect it was having on her new friend. “I’m glad we met today.”

Robin sighed at Alice’s sweetness. This was all innocent and Robin knew she should try and stop overthinking this.

“Good-night, Tower girl. Sleep well.” She whispered.

…

When she closed her eyes, Robin didn’t think she would sleep with Alice pressed so close to her side, but she did. And she dreamed.

She dreamed of giant trolls and angry mods with curved knives and of falling and falling and falling down a rabbit hole chasing after Alice…

She awoke from her dream the second before she hit the ground.

Robin opened her eyes to darkness, still half in the dream.

She awoke in a panic. Somehow she couldn’t move and there was a cold dampness spreading across her chest.

Was she hurt?

Was she dying?

Robin looked down to get her bearings and got a face-full of golden curls.

“Pfft.”

Alice had clearly shifted in the night.

She was now lying on top of Robin, spread out like a starfish, her head burying on Robin’s chest, slowly drooling into her cleavage.

“Alice.” Robin whispered, trying to nudge her awake, only to discover both of her arms were completely dead from the way Alice’s weight was lying on them.

“Hey, Tower Girl.” Robin tried again, shifting her body under Alice to try and wake her up.

Alice groaned and went from being a starfish to being an octopus, wrapping her arms and legs around Robin and holding tight.

Alice nose also nuzzled a little deeper into an area, having only met the girl the day before, it really had no place be going.

“Alice!” Robin cried, a lot of internal gay panic going on at the way Alice was snuggling her. She bucked around like a landed fish, trying to dislodge the girl.

Alice sleepily lifted her head, suddenly wide awake. She looked up at Robin in surprise and down at where she was lying.

“Sorry I must have got restless in the night.” She said, sliding off of Robin and sitting up. “Papa always said I was a fidget.”

“No, it’s cool.” said Robin recovering from her embarrassment. She tried to sit up too, wriggling her fingers and toes to get her circulation going and tensing for the pain to come.

“Yes it is rather,” said Alice, completely misunderstanding her. “But at least the rain has stopped. I’ll light the fire again and organise some breakfast. That’ll warm us both up.”

Alice yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily and Robin smiled at the waffle shaped pattern marring her friend’s cheek from where she lay on her leather jerkin.

Alice then wiped her mouth, her eyes drifting to Robin’s cleavage.

“I think I drooled on you.”

“It’s all good.” said Robin, shifting back in case Alice did something innocent like try and wipe her dry. Her words then turned into a stream of expletives as the much-anticipated pins and needles kicked in and every limb was shot with pain.

Breakfast turned into a much more elaborate affair than Robin was expecting. From her satchel, which was clearly magic, Alice produced a dish of soft boiled eggs and hot buttered toast and a glass of milk.

“It looks like a white day.” she said as a means of explanation. “But don’t worry the yolks will still be yellow.

There was even salt and cutlery to go with the meal.

“Does your bag make any food you want?”

“No, it just has colour themes. The worst days are the green days. Then it gives you a lot of cabbage and peas.”

They talked over breakfast. Making plans on how to make the long journey home.

Robin’s leather cape was a little stiff from all the water yesterday, but she shook it and rolled it until it was soft enough to wear, and then loaded up with their gear they retraced their path back to the tire tracks left by the yellow VW bug. It would be a good day of walking until they got back to the village.

…

Alice looked at Robin as they walked along, she was realising that she didn’t want this girl to just go back to camp and be left all alone in woods again. She couldn’t bear it. She had to find a way to keep her sticking around.

Maybe Robin was thinking the same way, as in a hesitant voice, she came up with the perfect solution.

“Um.. Alice. You know, my phone can record messages. I was just thinking if you had something you wanted to say to your dad, I could maybe record it for you and deliver it. And if he had something to say I could bring it to you in the forest.”

“Like a letter.” Alice asked in sudden awe. Was wonderful Robin offering her a way to speak to her Papa?

“Yeah.” said Robin shyly.

Alice gave her a big smile.

“You’d do that for me?”

Robin smiled back.

“Sure, I’d do anything for you.’ But then her smile faltered and she added quickly, “As a friend ...obviously.”

Alice unable to contain her joy, wrapped her arms around Robin and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you! I think you are the best friend I’ve ever had!”

…

#once upon a time #ouat #curious archer #mad archer #alice x robin

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killianmesmalls · 6 years

Text

A Tether to the World, Ch. 2

I have never been so lost in a pairing as I have been the last two days with KnightRook. I was supposed to be editing something else. Send help. Or don’t. Please don’t.

Chapter: 2/?

Warnings: Very mild, brief mention of past child abuse.

Synopsis: Alice is restless and Hook is at a loss. How can he give his daughter an adventure when she’s trapped?

Gods above, she was antsy. He couldn’t blame her. Spending weeks, even months at a time at sea had shown him his fair share of cabin fever. However, the Jolly Roger was a fair bit larger than this tower; even as a cabin boy he had more room to move around than his poor, darling six-year-old daughter did.

So, he couldn’t really blame her for her fidgety, irritable behavior. Usually he was able to curtail it with a game of some sort or an hour or so of pretend that would leave their living space in ruins. But, she was getting bigger, more aware that Papa could leave but Alice had to sit at home by her lonesome, likely with some chore or homeschooling assignment he had given her. She was bored and lonely, simple as that.

Even if he had caved to giving her a rabbit… and would likely cave again whatever other pet her heart desired because heaven help his conscience if he said no. Today even the white lop couldn’t distract his Alice, who kicked at her makeshift school desk in frustration.

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” she snapped.

The captain in him struggled to demand order and obedience, but the father in him crumbled at what he knew was an unavoidable bout of well-deserved frustration. The sun was out in the first warm day of spring, sending the scents of dewy grass and lavender all the way up through their tower window. He had hoped having her draw star maps of various worlds would both educate and entertain her, but anything short of tearing down the damn tower was sending her spinning toward a tantrum.

“Alice,” he said, an edge of authority in his tone before it softened, “I understand that you’re—”

“No you don’t!” yelled Alice. “You get to do whatever you please! You don’t understand at all!”

“Alice Jones,” he started, his captain’s voice inching in enough to give her pause. They both knew it was nothing more than a sign he, too, was nearing his last nerve. After the way he was raised, after what he had endured and the scars he had suffered as a child sold into servitude, there were certain lines he would never cross. Not with his Alice. At worst his captain tone with his bright child meant an evening without sweets or only one bedtime story. Luckily it rarely came to that—the thought of her father ever being disappointed in her sent a sharp pain through Alice’s heart any time she entertained it.

Well, most times. This may have been heading toward a Jones family first. Before she could descend further into madness, Killian stepped toward her, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to ask you to do something, and I am going to ask for you to trust me.”

Her shoulders slumped a little in his hands and she craned her neck to look back at him. “Do what, Papa?”

“I want you to rest for a few hours. Try to sleep. I know you haven’t been sleeping well the last few days. If you can’t sleep, pick a book and read as much as you can, but I’d really like for you to do all you can to get a few moments of rest. I am going to get a few things and I’ll be back as soon as I can. If all goes well, and if you do this for me, then we’ll have quite an evening ahead of us. I promise you.”

He felt her tense for but a moment, preparing to argue, then the fight left as quick as it rose through her. She slumped the rest of the way and gave a short nod. “Yes, Papa.”

“That’s my girl,” he praised, kissing her soft, blond curls again before grabbing his leather duster. “And please remember to clean up after Mary Ann. I don’t want to step on more rabbit leavings when I come home.”

She giggled mischievously, the sound sending his heart fluttering. “Yes, Papa.”

“Oh, and one more thing—where would you like to go?”

Alice’s eyebrows knit together. “Go?”

“Yes, love. Tell me a world and I will bring it to you.”

A wide, almost rabbit-like smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Can we go to Agrabah? Somewhere far away.”

Killian gave her a firm nod, his eyebrow rising as his own signature smirk flashed. “Agrabah it is. Now, off to rest. And don’t come back out until I call for you. I need to work some magic first.”

The climb down was always the hardest. Not simply because it was more difficult to get the grip he needed, but the thought of leaving his daughter always sent a boulder rolling in his stomach. The nearest village was nearly an hour’s walk away, and each step felt like it took him an eternity away from her. Thankfully, in the years since he had departed from his beloved Jolly Roger, his loyal first mate (Captain, now, he reminded himself) continued to send Hook what Smee felt was his rightful sum of gold after each adventure the crew went on without him. Though his heart ached for the spray of the ocean and the thrill of other worlds, the years had given Hook a deeper appreciation for the old rat’s steadfast friendship.

Killian had most recently been able to acquire a horse and pay for it to be kept in the nearby village stables. It was only fair for the beast to have more companionship than he could offer from the foot of their tower, and it was only fair to Alice to not have the neighing taunt her as another reminder of something she couldn’t see or touch.

The stables were only a fifteen-minute trek down a grassy path. He had been careful over the years to keep it from wearing too much, to prevent others from knowing about their hidden tower. He suspected the kind stable owner knew it somewhat, but she paid him no mind so long as he paid her in gold. From the stables, it was a fast gallop to get where he needed, and his mind ran with what he could possibly get to soothe his daughter’s fitful, adventurous soul. Exotic spices, expensive in a foreign realm but well worth it for his girl, were the first items that came to mind. After that, he was lost.

That is, until the third tent in the street market came into view. “Star Lamps and Fairy Lights” the sign advertised. Curiosity piqued, he stepped inside and marveled at an array of various-sized crystal balls, all colored a velvety blackish blue with small, clear speckles dotting each one. He approached one, taking in the label beneath it.

“Neverland,” it said. He raised the ball closer, immediately recognizing the speckles formed familiar shapes, ones he had memorized a thousand times over from his years trapped with the demon, Pan. His eyes scanned the other crystal pieces, catching miniaturized constellations he had navigated under for centuries.

“Would you like to see how it works?” a voice croaked behind him. Killian turned to see a withered man whose wild eyebrows adorned sparkling blue eyes. In his surprise, he simply nodded and watched as the man closed the tent cover, blocking all signs of the spring afternoon. The only light left was a small fire in a strange brass lantern. The elderly man shuffled toward the device, placing the ball labeled “Neverland” atop its setting. Instantly, the tent filled with a night sky Killain was so acquainted with it took his breath away.

Sure, the images were a little distorted around the corners of the tent, but gods it was as close as he could ever imagine getting without a magic bean. “It’s brilliant,” he breathed out. “How many realms do you have?”

“Dozens. Is there one in particular you’re looking for?”

“Agrabah, if you have it. I’ll take as many as I can carry, though.”

An exuberant fire lit in Killian’s heart as he made his way out of the market. His bag was heavier than he anticipated, now packed full of foreign foodstuffs, incense, four of some silly ‘calming’ water mechanism he hoped would do the trick, and as many starry crystals as he could fit with their accompanying lantern. Climbing back up that tower would be a magnificent challenge, but it would be well worth it.

It was when he spotted the small wagon wheel cast aside in the road that he knew it would be more than one climb, but he’d climb as much as he needed to bring his daughter a minute of happiness. A minute of pretend. A minute of freedom. His every muscle burned by the time he and all his loot had made it back inside their home, the tell-tale signs of sunset creating an orange glow over the quiet tower.

True to her word, Alice had kept to her room. Killian chanced a peek in on her and was relieved to see her spread like a starfish over her bed, covers half twisted and a book open at her side. Every minute he thought he couldn’t love her more was a minute he was proven wrong.

Pulling himself away from the sight, he got to work. Sheets and rope first, his years of tying masts doing him a wealth of good as he worked in as much quiet as he could manage. He thanked the gods Alice, when she could sleep, slept like the dead. Moving furniture along the hardwood floor wasn’t the most silent of tasks, but he caught her stir only once before she settled.

Next, he cleaned the wagon wheel and pierced a hole dead center of their wooden counter, fastening it to as close to a steering mechanism as he could manage with such limited tools. It wasn’t perfect, but he hoped his six-year-old would get the gist. From his mock-helm, he looked out over the living room area, now converted into a facsimile of the Jolly Roger. At least, as close to it as he could hope to make without real magic at his disposal. Pulling out the silly water toys that had been advertised for “tranquility” and to “reduce stress”—a lost idea to him since he acquired the constant worry of parenthood—he filled them with water and spaced them evenly around the fake ship, activating their mechanics so a mild sloshing sound could be heard around him. It was by no means the sea, but it could work in a pinch.

He moved to light the incense, the scent of sea-salt and seaweed lifting into the air after the initial burnt sulfur died away. Finally, he set himself up in the kitchen, going to work on the few recipes he could remember from his limited times in Agrabah. The mostly-desert world wasn’t one he had grown too accustomed to, but he would bloody well do everything he could to recreate the sense of its coastline now.

Go figure, it was the smell of food that stirred his Alice awake. He could imagine Liam teasing that she was just like him.

“Papa?” she called, her voice light and a little croaky from sleep. “Can I come out now?”

Rushing to set up the lantern, he placed Agrabah’s constellations across the ceiling of their tower, careful to adjust it so the stars were in their rightful places for the time of year. “You can come out, love,” he finally called back.

At the first sight of their living room area, Alice’s eyes widened, her gaze moving through every inch of what her father had created. He chose then to sweep over to her, letting food simmer over a low flame. “Would you like to step aboard, m’lady?”

“W-where are we?” she asked.

“Why, the Jolly Roger, of course.”

She moved with him in a daze toward the “helm” of the ship, senses assaulted with the smells of a mixture of sea air, cooking dishes from the bazaar, the sound of waves lopping around them, and the night sky glittering above.

“Oh, Papa…” she started, her eyes welling with more emotions than she could grasp. “It’s so… I…”

He knelt down beside her, wrapping his arms around her middle in a tight hug from behind, his scruffy cheek resting against hers. “Darling, I can’t imagine how you must feel each day being trapped in here. But I swear on my life, I will do whatever it takes to break this curse. And, until I do, I will do everything in my power to bring the realms to you.”

He held her for a long stretch, the pair letting the mimicked world around them work its magic, letting little Alice forget just a little that she was a prisoner. For now, even just a little while, she was a free sailor in a new world with her papa, the best captain in all the realms, at her side.

As if reading her mind, he guided her hands to the wagon wheel. “Now, would you like to show me what you know already? Let’s test out that sea in your blood, eh?”

She looked up, chewing her lips as she tried to get her bearings with the constellations dancing above her head. She named a few she recognized from the maps he had given her to study, and together they sailed this new world. His hands rested on her sides, mimicking the rocking of the ship to help give her, her sea legs for when they did finally leave this wretched tower.

If she closed her eyes for long enough, if she let him work what magic he had, she could almost feel like they were there.

#knightrook #alice jones #killian jones #wish hook #ouat spoilers

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