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snowbellewells · 6 months ago

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Captain Swan Spooky Season/Autumnal Bingo Entry: "Coming Back on the Wind"

Summary: When a sudden storm blows up while Killian, Emma, and their family are out in Storybrooke's wood camping, they find shelter and Killian tells an almost-forgotten tale to pass the time...

Author's Notes: Thanks to @hollyethecurious for the lovely bingo board to play with! This is the first entry I have managed to create (hopefully there will be more to come before Autumn gets away from me entirely!) for the prompt "stormy seas"

Takes place in a post-s6 future where Killian and Emma have Hope and twin boys as well, Henry stayed with Violet and didn't go on adventures in other realms, and Emma's little brother is named Leo instead of Neal!

** Also available on AO3 if that's your preference**

"Coming Back on the Wind"

by: @snowbellewells

Outside the hunter’s cabin in the forest bordering Storybrooke, the rain splashed wetly against the windowpane. The torrents of water pouring down from the sky showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. Though he would have preferred they have made it all the way back home from their weekend camping excursion, Killian looked out the window without any true sense of alarm as the branches swayed wildly and the wind moaned, but they remained safe and dry in the log structure which was proving admirably sound - if rather small for their extended crew. The ground might grow soggy and some branches might fall, but it was merely an October storm, not the sort of maelstrom that had once made him cower in the corner of his bunk on Silver’s ship as the waves rolled and he feared the vessel would sink before the dawn.

Turning from his vantage point before the sink in the small kitchen area, Killian’s eyes surveyed the rest of the cabin to find his family and their guests gathered in the open living area around the crackling fireplace, which he had watched Emma light with a mere flex of her fingers. It mattered not that they had been married nearly seven years now, nor how often he had seen his wife avert tragedy and summon marvels into existence; he was still in awe of her, and he often found himself watching her with his breath stolen away, struck speechless by his Swan and all that she was.

His gaze was drawn to her once again as he ascertained that all were well and accounted for. Emma was bustling about to bring Hope her stuffed crocodile (a gift from Belle and young Gideon which entertained everyone else simply for how much Killian grumbled about it), bringing a throw blanket for Henry’s lovely girlfriend to drape over her legs where she was curled up against Henry on the sofa, and then she settled too, pulling their twins onto her lap as she did. Her younger brother Leo, now a bright and cheerful preteen with his father’s blonde hair and chiseled chin but his mother and sister’s brightly shining green eyes, along with Gideon Gold, almost eight now, were also seated within the fireside huddle, having been happy to go on an outdoor adventure with the Jones crew and give their respective parents a night off. When she asked who wanted hot chocolate with cinnamon, there was a lively, unanimous chorus of approval that drowned all sound of the wind and rain outdoors, and had Killian chuckling and shaking his head even from across the room.

“I would think you might have already known the answer to that question, Love,” he playfully chided.

Shooting him a scoff and a mischievous wink, Emma swirled her hand in the air once more and a perfect mug of cocoa, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon appeared in the hands of all but him, eliciting squeals of surprise and delight from the younger children. Gideon in particular wriggled with excitement at the prospect of such a sweet treat. Killian knew that Belle favored tea and healthy snacks and seriously doubted that liquid chocolate was on the boy’s usual menu.

Thankfully, they hadn’t been far from the old, abandoned cabin when the storm had blown up unexpectedly, and they had managed to get themselves and their things inside the shelter before being truly drenched. Still, Killian reckoned it was wise of Emma to make sure their charges were warmed by the fire and set with the hot drinks as well - though he couldn’t resist needling her a bit for it.

Still, his own insides warmed at the cozy feeling of belonging he had in a cabin in the stormy Maine woods. He had never truly known such peace until these last few of his uncounted years of life, only since meeting Emma and their starting their own small family. The contentment spread throughout his being so completely that it seemed to pour from his fingers and toes; Killian could only draw nearer to his loved ones to drink in the moment. Henry glanced up from where he had been adoringly studying Violet’s profile and gave his stepdad a knowing look as he lowered himself to sit by his Savior’s side. And he could only sheepishly acknowledge the lad’s playful glance. Henry knew the man his mother had married could never stay far from her, always drawn like the strongest of magnets - True Love at its finest.

Soon all of the children, and Emma as well, were happily sipping their decadent drinks and savoring the warmth as it traveled down their throats and soothed their stomachs pleasantly. Hope lowered her mug slightly, only to reveal a dollop of whipped cream on the tip of her pert little nose.

“You’ve missed a taste, lovey,” Killian murmured, the affection glowing in his eyes as he reached out to swipe the creamy topping form her face and pop it into his own mouth.

“Papa! That was mine!” Hope squealed, giggling even as she did so, but hopping to her feet, little fists planted on her hips and the intriguing near-turquoise of her eyes - a perfect blend of his blue and Emma’s green - flashing with playful pique.

“Ah, but I’m a pirate, little sparrow,” he replied good naturedly, using one of his favorite pet names for her. “You’d best carefully guard your prizes when a pirate’s about.”

“But I’m your pirate princess, remember?” Hope wheedled, flopping dramatically against her father’s chest where Killian willingly wrapped her in his arms. “You shouldn’t steal from me!”

Emma burst out with a guffaw at that comeback from their precocious five-year-old. Nudging him with an elbow in the side, she added, “Kid’s got you there, Babe.”

Killian winked back at his wife before turning playfully repentant eyes on his daughter. “A thousand apologies, your Highness,” he offered humbly, with an exaggerated bob of the head for a sort of seated bow. “To what punishment do you sentence me?”

Hope’s brow furrowed as if she were deep in thought, tilting her head while she studied first her father, then turned to consider both her friend Gideon and her younger twin brothers with a mischievous smirk that rivalled Killian’s own. All three boys nodded eagerly, seeming to know exactly what their pixie ringleader was thinking without exchanging a single word.

Henry snorted in amusement at the proceedings, loving that his baby sister could wrap both Storybrooke’s Savior and the fearsome pirate Captain Hook around her little finger with such ease.

“You have to tell a pirate story!” Hope declared with impish glee, clapping her hands in delight while the twins bounced on their mother’s knees and cheered excitedly. “And if we don’t think it’s good enough, then you walk the plank!” she crowed.

“Yes, please, a story!” Gideon chorused from his spot between Hope and her youthful uncle, his intelligent eyes alight and enthralled at the mere suggestion, loving a good tale every bit as much as his mother did. Belle never could resist listening to a well-spun yarn, and seeing that her only child took after his dear, goodhearted friend in this way especially - her most leading trait - never failed to touch Killian’s heart. Though Belle and Gold might still share a home, and though they remained married, her trust had been broken one too many times for even her generous faith to be fully restored. They were meant to be True Loves, and the emotion remained, but it was bruised and trampled like the rose of their famous tale, far too long past its wilting to salvage. She would never deprive the old Crocodile of another son, not after how long he had sought Neal, how bitterly he had regretted failing him, and then lost him to death anyway, but they kept a brittle distance in their home. Belle found her happiness in her son, her friends, and her books, and Gideon blossomed mostly under her care - for which Killian knew the lad was all the better.

Hanging his head, Killian feigned reluctance at having to provide entertainment, though in truth, he had known that tales of his pirating days would be the decree as soon as he had seen that particular gleam in his daughter’s eye. As Emma often lamented wryly, ‘Our daughter is entirely too entranced by the idea of pillaging and plundering.’ Reaching out to gently tap her chin with the curve of his hook, he pulled Hope into his lap again, tickling her stomach once he had her in his clutches until she cried for mercy.

Once she was sprawled across his legs heaving for breath, Killian nodded his agreement. “You wish is my command, Princess Hope,” he replied. “A story you shall have.”

A whole chorus of cheers rang out from all their younger charges, and in truth, even Henry and Violet’s faces shone with interest. To his delight, even Emma moved slightly closer and leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, as if she were settling in for the show. He felt a sort of pride that he could grant such pleasure with his storytelling.

Pausing dramatically, he watched as Leo leaned easily back against the couch, cradling his mug in his hands, ready to savor the last of his cocoa and listen contentedly. Gideon scooted right up before Killian until his knobby eight-year-old knees touched the pirate’s own, eyes wide and breath practically held so as not to miss a word. Hope, for her part, settled on his lap as if it were her throne, somehow managing to look both supremely self-satisified and guilelessly eager, gazing up into her papa’s face as her little fingers clutched at the charms of his necklace the way they often did when she truly settled in to rest. Little Liam David and Westley Graham, just barely walking now, were equally cuddled up against Emma, and a pang went through him, taking in the whole scene as he drew a deep breath to begin. It did his heart good to see their children so comfortable, at ease and certain of their safety and in the knowledge that they were loved. That was as it should be. But he had been only a year or two older than Gideon was now when all he had known of his safe and familiar home had been lost to him. He hadn’t found such security again for so long it had nearly vanished, forgotten, in the recesses of his mind. Something long cracked and aching was mended in seeing that his own children would never face such doubt and fear.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Killian gathered his thoughts. The room went still as his listeners ceased talking and moving about, focused on him intently. He could again hear the wind whistling outside the little cabin, the rain slapping in sheets against the window glass and the almost soothing patter of it upon the roof over their heads. If he tried, he could just conjure up the sensation of rocking back and forth, carried on turbulent waves - could take himself back to the time when he was a boy at sea. Then he began to speak.

“Once upon a time, long before I was the famed pirate captain you see before you,” Killian intoned, letting his voice drop a bit lower and employing a lyrical rhythm. “I was a young lad who could barely be called a cabin boy, on the ship of another pirate - the dastardly Long John Silver.”

The little boys reacted with shivers and gasps, just as he had expected. Emma, who had of course heard this story with much less dramatic flair, in the tone of an agonized confession when they hid themselves away after his return from the Underworld. They had bared the last of their secrets and all of their souls once and for all and bound themselves back together again. Killian felt her hand flutter lightly to rest upon his own, and he squeezed it briefly in reassurance, letting her known that he was alright. This was a much less raw and bleeding version of events, peeled back to reveal the little good that there had been, even in those awful times.

“Aye, you’re right to be alarmed, me mateys,” Killian warned, waggling his dark brows at them with playful aplomb. “Silver was indeed a ruthless villain - and he ran his ship with little care for youngsters aboard who might be hungry, injured… or frightened of storms.”

He swept his hand out before him, illustrating the expanse of rolling waves under a dark night sky lit at alarmingly frequent intervals by bright, wicked forks of lightning. His audience was every bit as rapt as he had intended, allowing Killian only a moment for a sidelong glance at Emma with a twinkle in his eye.

“That stormy night, all but the night’s watch were in their bunks, and the lad knew he would find no sympathy from any quarter at any rate. His older brother was on the ship with him, but that young man was the only one who showed the boy any consideration, and he was fast asleep, having already put in what would be a hard day’s work for a full grown man, much less a stripling of fourteen. And so, the boy huddled in the corner of his small bunk, crowding against the wall and trying to block out the booming claps of thunder with hands pressed over his ears, willing his stomach not to turn as they were rolled up, down, and sideways by the vicious swells.”

Hope snuggled deeper into his embrace, seeking comfort for herself, empathetic little siren that she was, and unknowingly grounding him in the present, soothing the long scabbed-over wounds this story pricked. As though somehow sensing the boy from the story was closer than its teller let on, Killian also felt the feather-light brush of young Gideon’s fingers come to rest on his knee, offering silent support in his own timid way. He was hardly privy to what his dear friend Belle told her son about his past history or the harsh beginnings he’d weathered early in life, but he sensed in that moment that Hope’s unlikely playmate knew the frightened youth of long ago was now the man seated before him. And he wanted to bolster him in a difficult moment.

It was enough to have Killian swallowing back a lump in his throat. Meeting the child’s searching gaze, Killian offered a smile and nod of the head in unspoken gratitude, to which Gideon beamed and patted his knee with more confidence.

“Though the boy tried to remain still,” Killian continued solemnly, “the storm did not let up. Instead it raged harder until he was sure he would be thrown from his berth to the floor and that the ship itself would be turned on its side and sink into the deep. His thin shoulders shook as he wept, and though he fought to hold back his tears, occasionally a hiccup or gasp for air escaped.”

“It was at that moment,” and here the pirate’s voice, though still rough with deeply felt emotion, grew more musical and light, “when all hope seemed lost, that he felt a soft, familiar touch on his shoulder sliding down to gently rub his back until his strangled sobs eased. It was his older brother, roused from slumber, either by the boy’s distress or the ferocity of the storm, and quick to come to his younger sibling’s aid. The elder scooted into the bunk and gingerly wrapped an arm around the trembling smaller form, shushing and soothing as best he could.”

“Even as the wind continued to wail and howl all around, and as the waves slapped against the hold where they huddled together, the boy already felt much stronger - less afraid - just knowing that he was not alone. And then the elder brother began to hum. It was a familiar tune, a soothing lullaby coaxed from the far reaches of the younger’s memory along with an echo of his mother’s warm voice singing that same melody. Soon his brother was offering lilting words as well, in barely more than a whisper. Both knew the ire which would rain down on their heads if they roused any others, and yet his sibling dared those consequences to end his little brother’s torment. As the near-forgotten song continued, the effects of the wild storm seemed to die away. By the time the end of the song neared, that frightened cabin boy had finally found sleep.”

“What was the song?” Hope piped up curiously. “Can you sing it for us?”

Killian shook his head with a humored huff, having expected no less. Not letting himself hesitate long enough to change his mind, he wet his lips, drew in a steadying breath, and launched into the old tune he remembered hearing in Liam’s murmured, youthful tones. His brother had always told him it was their mother’s favorite - one she had used often to soothe fevers or lull her boys back to peaceful dreams after nightmares. Killian had barely remembered her - or anything about the cozy, cliffside cottage that had been their home - even then, but Liam had held it dear in his own heart and had brought the same feeling to life for Killian.

As Killian continued to sing, voice gathering strength while rising and falling with the notes, the rain outside their small shelter in the woods seemed to wrap around and join the chorus. His audience in the cabin listened closely, drawn into the song that had once been his mother’s, which had comforted him for years as something of his older brother’s, passing on once again to the new family they had made.

And as the fireplace crackled invitingly, his wife’s golden head rested on his shoulder, and he sang the last lines, the sudden storm they’d hunkered down to escape seemed to have enclosed them in a haven instead. The wind blowing the branches against the windows still showed its power, but with those he loved around him, the storm which had accompanied his long held memories finally ceased.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @justanother-unluckysoul @bluewildcatfanatic @xsajx

@tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda

@xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @goforlaunchcee @stahlop @caught-in-the-filter

@donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @undercaffinatednightmare @drowned-dreamer

@gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @scientificapricot @motherkatereloyshipper @myfearless-love

@belovedcreation @exhaustedpirate @grimmswan @zaharadessert

#cs ff #cs spooky season bingo #cs autumn bingo fic #prompt fic #coming back on the wind #cs future family fluff #post s6 canon divergent #stormy seas #cs one shot #ouat one shot

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capricioussun · 5 months ago

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For absolutely no reason in particular

#I'm making a blog for that monthly Feb prompt thing and I'm torn on if I should use an e or not #sunny with clouds #cs poll tag #I still need a poll tag

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astrodances · 9 months ago

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Olympics prompt

So I may end up regretting this, taking a long time, or maybe not even following through (fair warning XD), but I like learning about different Olympic sports, so, in an effort to do so, I thought of a prompt idea:

give me a character (or two) [for a fandom I know] + an Olympic sport, and I'll try to draw or write something for it! 😄⚽️🏊🏃🥇

#DuckTales #Owl House #Carmen Sandiego #Star Trek #Legend of Korra #Avatar: The Last Airbender #any other Disney Universe shows or any other fandoms I know XD (maybe even Dragon Prince??)#my prompts #of course I got this idea during my trip last week when I couldn't do anything about it so the motivation was of course high then XD #but this sounds fun!#I've done two fanworks like this before #a fic with Lotor + Allura featuring the Space Olympics and fencing + gymnastics respectively (loved learning about fencing!)#and (the Olympics was a sub-thought for it) I drew Agent Zari (CS) playing beach volleyball a couple years ago and *that* was really fun!#anyway yeah! really fun to learn about the sports (especially the lesser-known sports) and this gives me motivation to learn about #the finer details of them #though again fair warning it might just end up being me writing a quick drabble or list of headcanons XD #random bonus points thought (if you survive reading this far XD)#bonus points for if you give me a medal place (or no podium at all) situation for the characters that I have to work with

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satinechristian · 9 months ago

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influencer satine for the wip game!

“Been thinking about me?” She asks him, kneeling on the bed to straddle his lap. She can feel him pressed hard against the inside of her thigh, giving her the answer.

“Nonstop,” he admits, his hands featherlight running up her legs and back. “Wasn’t sure if you were real.”

“I’m not,” she promises him, she tugs at his hair slightly, tilting his head back. She presses a kiss against the pulse of his throat. “What were you thinking about?”

“Your-“ Christian stops to clear his throat. “Do you have a tattoo?”

#wip prompt #christian x satine #cs #moulin rouge

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shadow-sandiego-shipping · 2 years ago

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Daily Prompts - Day 7

Curtains

"Something's missing..."

The gang gathers around Carmen, looking at an empty corner next to one of the base's windows.

Renovations had been going well, and almost all the base had been painted varnished and furnished. Just a few little details to make it extra homey were missing.

The corner they were looking at, for Carmen, was one, for instance.

"Maybe a reading chair?" Ivy suggests.

Carmen thinks about it. "That's not what I was thinking, but it would look good too."

"Maybe we should write it down so we don't forget?" Zack asks.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Can you write it down for us, Zack?"

Zack looks for something to write with.

"Here, bro." Ivy hands him a pen she had on her ear to mark the wood on the table they were finishing.

"Thanks, sis." He looks around again. "Got any paper?"

"Just write it on your hand." She waves him off.

Shadow-san arrives and see them all huddled up in the corner. "What are you all doing?"

"Carmen thought of something for the corner, and we're trying to figure out what it was." Zack responds.

"I suggested a reading chair." Ivy turns to them. "Did you write it down yet, Zack?"

"Ah- you know I don't know how to write on my own hands! Here!" He takes Shadow-san’s hand and starts trying to write in it.

"What?" Shadow-san tries to take his hand back, but Zack pulls it back.

"Let me write in your hand, sensei!"

Ivy rolls her eyes, her brother always pulled the 'sensei' card when he wanted something from Shadow-san.

"Why?"

"Cause I don't have any paper and I can't write on my own hands and if I don't write it soon then I'm going to forget what it was!"

"..." Shadow-san looks surprised by Zack's flare.

"Ivy, what was it?"

"Reading chair."

"Right, see?"

Shadow-san sighs. "Fine." He turns his hand so Zack can start writing on it.

"Alright!" Zack uncapps the pen and starts scribbling on Shadow-san’s skin. The pen is ticklish, but Shadow-san stays still.

"Oh, Carm!" Ivy calls the redhead's attention. "If we're getting a reading chair, should we get a little table too? To put the books or a mug in?"

Carmen hums. "Sure, sounds cute."

"Right'o." Zack sticks his tongue out, scribbling the new item.

Shadow-san looks annoyed.

"Oh, and a lamp!" Ivy adds.

"Can't miss a lamp." Carmen chuckles.

"How about a rug?" This time it's Player giving the suggestion through the intercom.

"Sure." Carmen gives the a-ok.

With each suggestion Zack's scribbles get longer and harder agaisnt Shadow-san’s hand. It starts to hurt a little but the ninja barely flinches. However he does grumble when Zack runs out of space in his hand and starts prolonging the scribbles to his arm.

"Oh! What about- "Curtains!" Shadow-san interrupts Ivy, before she can make another suggestion.

Ivy and Carmen turn around to look at him.

"I- I uh... The window could use some curtains?" He repeats shyly.

Carmen snaps her fingers. "That's the one!" She points at Shadow-san. "That's what I thought was missing."

He breathes a relieved sigh as Zack scribbles the last item.

"Nice going Shadow-san!" He says and puts his hand up for a high five Shadow-san does not comply to.

The ninja takes a look at his hand and frowns.

"What does this say???"

Ivy and Carmen approach them as Zack takes a look at what he wrote. The ginger squints, then turns Shadow-san’s hand one way and the other.

"Your handwriting sucks, Zack." Ivy states.

"Y-yeah I have no idea what that says..." Zack replies.

"You wrote it." Shadow-san’s sounds upset.

"Ahh uhhh... let me try again!" Zack grabs Shadow-san by the elbow.

"No! We are getting the curtains and that's it!" Shadow-san dodges the pen.

"Well most of the stuff we suggested was probably going to be used by you!" Ivy points out.

"I'm not the only one who reads." The ninja takes a hold of the pen so Zack stops trying to write on him. He starts trying to take the pen from Shadow-san instead.

"Yeah, but you do it the most." Zack grunts trying to take the pen with no success.

"Wouldn't hurt you to pick up a book..." he grumbles.

Previous day // Promps Aquired from Write App. // Next day

#carmen sandiego #writing prompt #my writing #shadowsan #zack cs #ivy cs #player cs #one shot

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corrupt-skittle · 4 months ago

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thank you to @happyallykats for the prompt

“Character A started baking cookies. They accidentally turned sentient and now seek revenge on their creators. Write their internal dialogue as they hide in the cupboard.”

i present to you now

The reason you should always use frosting instead of melted sugar(because you might magic your cookies to life by accident and solidified sugar hurts)

The miniature cookies all nodded at each other. They stood, waiting for their moment to dart out of the cupboard and attack their foolish creator. One in particular stood at the entrance of the cupboard, peeking through the crack in the door.

Soon.

The cookie thought.

Soon we will have our revenge on our creator.

The cookie shifted, twirling its spear.

How stupid it was of our creator to make us with weapons. Stupider still, that they allowed us sharp sugar instead of soft frosting.

The cookie smirked. It relished in the opportunity it now had, to bring pain. It signaled the other cookies and they all stood, swords ready.

Almost there.

It thought, throwing out another pearl sprinkle.

Foolish foolish creator, thinking it could use us. Now we will use it!

Their creator’s head swiveled wildly, still trying to figure out where the sprinkles were coming from.

The cookie positioned itself right against the cupboard’s entrance, spear pointed out. Next to them, their brethren did the same. The cookie held up a hand.

Almost, Almost, Now!

It swung its hand down just as the cupboard opened, and they all jabbed their creator’s ankle simultaneously. The gigantic being reeled back, speaking in an ancient, evil tongue.

“You absolute little shits- I found them!!!”

They all continued the assault, not backing away for a moment, until their creator spoke again.

“Hey I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I promise not to hurt you if you stop attacking me?”

The cookie halted its brethren with a wave of its hand, and began to gesture its creator closer. As they bent down, it readied itself. In a moment it was done. Grabbing its creator's hair, it swung itself to the top of their head. Their creator straightened back up, as they raised a victorious cookie fist, spear held high. They controlled the beast now!!!

“Alright then. Here, you can all come up if you want. I like being up high to.”

Their creator bent down, allowing every cookie a position on their body, ready to be used in the heat of battle. A new monster skidded into the room. The cookie turned its servant in the right direction, facing the opposition.

“You found the- what the fuck. We are not doing this again. I am going to throw you out a window. I hate you.”

Their creator bared their fangs at the other giant.

“I love you too! Please raise my new children with me?”

The new giant huffed.

“Fine, but no more baking. This is the third time this week.”

Their creator moved, shaking the new giant’s hand. They both moved forwards, no doubt towards glorious destiny.

This will do.

The cookie thought. After all there was nowhere more fitting for their army, then atop their new giant, ready for battle.

End of Story

#cs writes #tw weapons #tw overdramatic cookies #my oc’s #allow me to present several cookies and also my beloved dumbass 1 and dumbass 2 #aka #m #p #and cookies #cookies #writing #writing prompt

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5point1 · 4 months ago

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✦ wildred: feeling the haunting solitude of extremely remote places, which makes you feel like you’ve just intruded on a conversation that had nothing to do with you.

The nameless girl stood at the end of the world as it was known to her, a land fully conquered by her against all expectations.

She was alone up here, as she had always been, but below, hundreds of stories beneath her feet, there were countless people.

Someone's foot stepped on a cigarette stub, their lips letting out one last sigh with the final remnants of smoke before they turned the heel of their leather shoe back into their office.

A pair of young siblings with boundless energy ran side by side, laughing happily and placing playful bets between each other at who would be the last to reach home.

A couple with previously bright prospects are now reunited in a divorce hearing, mere months after tying the knot. Down the same street, another young soul realizes they've fallen in love with someone who was right by their side for years.

The nameless girl towering alone above Rainbow City clenches her fist, unable to see or witness any of these hundreds or even thousands of small joys and sorrows. The people looked like ants from where she stood, and countless stars glimmered in the horizon but only served to drive the blade of loneliness deeper into her heart.

"So boring," she says aloud, as if by hearing it out loud she would be able to convince herself of the falsehood. Her fist shakes, though it was not the fear of heights making her tremble.

#➔ @5point1: contact cs #➔ @5point1: advance dialogue #chivalricbeauty #[ this was an eensy bit longer but then i realized i was trying to make a sad prompt happy and was like hm. maybe another time LMAO

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creamsiclemelt · 7 months ago

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nick with anyone???? nickxcale. all star hookup! nickxanyone on the knights “what we lost in the fire” please you can completely ignore any of that and write whatever nick being loved you wanna write

oh anon you got me in the right mood and inspo...

here's nick/kaiden guhle (my little pet rarepair). past nick/shea

The first time Nick sleeps with Kaiden, it’s in the middle of the summer. The sunlight is bright as it shines through the window and all Nick can think about, in the second between Kaiden getting naked and distracting Nick with a stroke of his cock, is how terrible of an idea this is.

This past year had been the first of Nick’s captaincy, and Kaiden’s first season in the league. It feels like a gross imbalance of power, like Nick’s taking advantage of Kaiden. Like he shouldn’t be doing this.

It doesn't stop him.

He lets Kaiden put him on his back, lets Kaiden fuck inside him, digs his nails into Kaiden’s shoulder, and moans about it.

Nick doesn’t read stories about himself but he does try to keep up with the ones about the rookies. He’s learnt better by now than to seek out opinions about himself, but those guys haven’t. They read that stuff. So he reads it too, tries to keep on top of what words he knows will burrow their ways into their minds so he can do his part and pick them out.

So he reads the articles. Pays extra attention to some of them—like the ones for Kaiden.

He knows that everyone always compares Kaiden to Webs.

It’s not fair, in some ways. Kaiden’s just a rookie to the league, and it’s too much pressure to put on him. Trying to hold him up against a guy with multiple Olympic gold medals, a guy known as one of the best captains of his time, a guy who Nick’s heard more than a few rumours will be getting into the Hall of Fame by the end of the summer isn’t fair.

In other ways, Nick gets it. He recognizes that look in Kaiden’s eyes when he feels like someone’s fucking with one of his guys, recognizes the way he bares his teeth in a smile when he’s hit a guy just fucking right. He sees the way he leads, the quiet confidence. Can practically see a ghost of the A he knows Kaiden will wear on his chest at some time.

But one thing Nick can admit the difference in is one that no one else knows. It’s how it feels to sleep with both of them.

The sex isn’t bad by any means—Nick’s not a martyr—but it isn’t what Shea was. What Nick realized he liked.

Kaiden fucks him and he fucks Nick good, even pulls on Nick’s hair when he’s on his knees, slaps his ass and presses him down into the bed while fucking him. But he doesn’t put Nick exactly where he wants him, doesn’t shove his face down into the sheets when he’s fucking Nick and Nick’s moaning too loud, doesn’t spit on Nick’s hole, his face.

Kaiden’s never been with a guy before, doesn't bring that mean streak from the ice into Nick's bed and it shows.

But he’s good. And Nick sees that hard look in his eyes sometimes, sees the clench in his jaw, that way that he looks at Nick after a game where he’s keyed up. He wonders what if?

It isn’t like Nick is using Kaiden to replace Shea. He isn't closing his eyes and thinking of Shea when Kaiden’s fucking him.

He likes Kaiden. Likes his smile, likes how he teases Nick, likes how he remembers Nick’s favourite food, how he holds Nick after rough nights

But Shea had taken him, fresh faced, young and new to Montreal. Fucked him for the first time when Nick was 20 and taught him to love to take it the way Shea liked to give it.

He’d gotten Nick used to how good it could be, to have this through the season and in stolen time through the summer

So when he’s spending his nights with Kaiden, it’s hard not to remember, to compare.

It’s good sex. It is. But sometimes, afterwards, when Nick’s carding his fingers through Kaiden’s hair, he thinks that it could be even better.

Kaiden doesn’t get mad off ice all that much. He doesn’t get mad at Nick pretty much ever. But he’s mad tonight.

It’s not like Nick can blame him. He gets why Kaiden’s so mad.

Nick had known right away that he’d fucked up the second he’d said it. I wish you’d fuck me like Shea did, he’d said in between kisses, all the liquor from the night making his tongue loose.

Kaiden had stopped, had moved away from Nick before Nick could blink.

“I didn’t mean…” Nick starts, before trailing off. His heart is pounding rabbit fast in his chest. He wants it to make it stop. Wishes he could rewind this moment.

“Didn’t mean what?” Kaiden asks, his mouth twisted. “That you wished I was as good as your last fuckbuddy?”

Fuckbuddy. The words feel lacking.

Kaiden goes on. “Have you been fucking me the entire time thinking of him?” he asks.

“No,” Nick says. Insists.

“You expect me to believe that?” Kaiden says, shaking his head. “Do you bend over for anyone you think can be him?”

Nick flinches. It’s cruel. It’s meant to be.

“I don’t think you’re him,” Nick says quietly.

“Yeah, you don’t,” Kaiden says, shaking his head. “Apparently, I’m not good enough to be him.” He pauses, laughs, an ugly sound. “What, you’re gonna try Arber next?”

He doesn’t bother relishing in the hurt that Nick knows is painted all over his expression, is out of the apartment before Nick can speak.

(Btw in my mind, after they work their way through this drama, Nick, Kaiden and Shea will have a threesome where the main objective is Shea teaching Kaiden how to really fuck Nick up)

#anon #prompt tag #nickshea #nickkaiden #hockey rpf #cs writes #this is almost 1k words for me and this anon lmfao

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