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“Fucking flies!”
Ed was going to murder every fly on this stupid fucking island. He wasn’t sure how yet, but where there was a will, there was a way, and Ed had the strongest of wills. The willest of wills.
“Fuck!”
He slapped a hand to the back of his neck, where some buzzing bastard was nibbling on him with its little insect teeth. He stabbed at the swarm around him with his knife, hacking at mostly air but hopefully clipping at least a few wings. Bastards had an unfair aerial advantage, just wait till he got em on the ground, then he could grind their little bodies beneath his heel, pop em like fucking grapes.
“I hate land!” He exclaimed at large to let the land know what he thought of it.
This is why he preferred to be at sea: no bugs. And if there was a bug, Ed could ask Izzy to kill it. Izzy was great at killing things for him, really A+ work, put his whole sick and twisted little heart into it. Great shit, great shit.
Unfortunately, there was one thing land had that the sea didn‘t: alphas. Ed sailed with an omega crew, no alphas allowed. Alphas were too much risk, too eager to go lone wolf on missions, or pick fights and piss all over their territory. Ed loved a good pissing contest as much as the next man, but alphas would pop a knot over it or some shit. Omegas tended to prefer working in teams and bonding as a unit, protective of their herd and nest (or crew and ship, in this case, if Ed were to extend the metaphor, which he was certainly inclined to do.) Best illustrative case: Izzy (who, honestly, was sometimes so omega it was almost alpha, like Ed was positive Izzy would like to piss all over him and mark him as off limits. Kinky, if that was your thing. It wasn’t Ed’s.)
This meant, however, that he had to find an alpha for his heat. Generally he preferred brothels, as he didn’t trust other pirates, and certainly didn’t want any of them trying to control him with their knots and biting marks and scenting. Ugh! But of fucking course they were becalmed long enough for Ed to get desperate and settle for the nearest source of relief, which unfortunately was a fucking mating run on a fucking island for anyone and everyone tragically single and of ill repute. He hadn’t had to resort to these since he was a penniless no-name grubby little deckhand on Hornigold’s ship. At least then his knee still worked. He was less ‘running’ on this run, and more ‘walking and stabbing’.
He grabbed a leaf as big as his head, shoving it out of his path, and smacked right into some dumb knob.
“Out of my way!” he barked, knife held aloft.
The man, an alpha by the smell of him, took one look at him and ran. Hah! Ed crowed in victory, then paused in his gratuitous knife swinging. Wait. He needed that knot.
“Get back here, you coward!” he cried, but the man was long gone.
Eh, whatever, like he wanted some scurvy scallywag to dick him down. He needed someone who wasn’t a little chicken shit. He leaned against a tree that seemed to have the least amount of bugs near it and wiped his brow. It was hot. He was hot (temperature-wise and also sexy-wise.) He was hungry (and not just for cock, he was regular-hungry as well, which was a harder problem to solve, as he didn’t bring anything with him besides his weapons and spite, which was usually enough to keep him going.) Ed tilted his head back and hoped to see a coconut. Instead, he saw a pair of snakey-eyes staring right at him.
“Fucking snakes!”
One serious stabbing session later, he was flinging the carcass of the snake into the trees, hoping it served as a warning sign to all snake kind to never mess with the infamous Blackbeard.
“Ow!” Someone shouted.
Ed popped through the brush, twinkling his fingers in a little wave, slightly buoyed by all the maiming.
“Look alive there mate, gotta watch out for those flying snakes, they’re bound to come dropping down on you when you least suspect. Wait - what the fuck is all this shit?”
Before Ed laid not just some sorry mating runner with a lump on their head from a snake-shaped projectile, no, before Ed was a veritable oasis. A generous spreading of many soft looking blankets contained heaps of tiny dishes loaded with little samplings of food, all of them being brought out from a large collection of wicker baskets by a white man in full finery, his lacy cuffs heavy with an alluring alpha scent. Most people were naked by this point (or rather, all the dumb people were naked by this point. They’d end up with rashes from weird plants or bug bites on their nethers. Ed was too smart for that; the leathers stayed on, thank you very much.)
“Hello!” the man said.
His golden curls bounced against his forehead in a charming fashion. He held up the remains of Ed’s snake.
“This yours? It’s nicely tenderized.”
Ed picked his jaw up off the sandy floor.
“Thanks, mate. Snake really deserved it, slimy fucker was spying on me from a tree.”
“Oh dear,” the man tsk’d, “could never stand peepers. Maybe we’ll cook him up over a fire, turn him into a nice little snakey snack. That’ll show him.”
“Could really go for some snake right about now. I’m starving. Sort of thought I’d be eating cock by now, you know? Didn’t work out that way, guess I scared all the alphas off.”
“Well, here’s one you haven’t scared off,” the man said cheerily, “Stede Bonnet, Gentleman Pirate, at your service.”
Ed raised his eyebrows in disbelief as this supposed alpha pirate wasted no time sipping a beverage from a tiny delicate teacup.
“Ed Teach, also a pirate,” Ed said, “haven’t seen you around before, you new or something?”
“Quite! It’s been a marvelous adventure so far. I didn’t anticipate going into rut so soon but, well, here we are.”
Ed squinted at him, trying to work him out. A pirate with fine china? A man at a mating run who was having a picnic?
“First time doing a mating run then?” Ed asked.
He sat down at the edge of the blanket, not wanting to waltz into an alpha’s territory uninvited. Usually he loved getting their hackles up, but this alpha seemed sorta decent. Ed would let him have his space, wouldn’t even rob him blind, even though he could murder for one of those little sandwich things.
“Yes. It’s not what I expected. More sand than I’d usually like in my romantic pursuits.”
Ed barked a laugh, “Nothing romantic about a mating run. It’s just a fuck, mate. Thanks for the knot, see ya never kinda vibe.”
“Oh I don’t know, I always think there’s a bit of room for romance.”
And saying so, Stede handed him a little plate topped with tiny treats, his eyes honest-to-god twinkling. Ed took the plate, though not without hesitation. Did Stede expect him to jump on his knot in return for the food or something? (Because, honestly, he would. No alpha had ever tried to feed him before, and it wasn’t even patronizing, because Stede was eating too. Yeah, Ed could totally see himself riding this man’s dick and then eating his fancy sandwiches after a good hard mating session. Sign him the fuck up for anything to do with sandwiches.)
“Holy fuck!” Ed moaned, biting into the sandwich.
The bread was pillowy soft, the cucumber slices refreshing and cool and juicy.
“You like them? My ship’s cook, Roach, makes excellent finger sandwiches. And oh! Here, you must try his tapas. Just remarkable.”
Clearly Ed had been doing pirating all wrong. Why didn’t he have a cook who could make fluffy bread and spicy tapas?
“Are you still recruiting?” Ed asked, “Because I’d go back to swabbing decks to get fried squid like this.”
“The more the merrier!” Stede beamed, “Salaries start at one pound, two shillings a month.”
Ed nearly spat out his sandwich, but refrained because it was fucking delicious and the ground did not deserve even a crumb of it.
“You shitting me mate? You’re a pirate and you pay your crew a salary?”
“Why not?” Stede asked, “Just because we’re pirates doesn’t mean we can’t be decent. As Captain, I consider my most important duty to be that of taking care of the crew.”
“You sure you’re an alpha, not an omega?” Ed asked, all heart-eyed.
A fancy alpha who knew his way about a good sandwich and cared for his crew? Fuck that was sexy as hell. Ed shifted, feeling the slick and heat gather in his soft omega spaces.
Stede pursed his lips and looked away, his rapid blinking giving away his discomfort, “I’m aware it’s not the usual behavior befitting of an alpha. You wouldn’t be the first to tell me so. Far from it, actually. It’s partly why I went to sea. I figured pirates were a bit…freer, with this sort of thing.”
Stede sighed and stared forlornly in his cup, “But you’re the third omega today who told me I was too soft. Perhaps I’m not cut out for life on land or sea.”
Ed saw his delicious dicking fantasies start to shrivel up and disappear. No no no!
“Now hang on,” Ed deliberately scooted onto the blanket, trying to make the scooting as seductive as possible without dropping his plate, “What knobheads said anything about being too soft? Certainly not me. Sure, paying pirates might be lunacy, and most alphas don’t have picnics on mating runs, but you’re doing something different and I like it. Most alphas are all the same, just want to pop their knot and flex their muscles. Boring! I’ve seen it all before. But this? This is something else, mate, something special.”
“You truly think so?”
Stede’s smile was shy and nervous, but growing. Ed shimmied a little closer so he could tap their boots together.
“Hell yeah. Why has no one else ever thought to bring blankets on a mating run, eh? You’re a genius. I’m tired of being mated on the ground, lots of nasty stuff on the ground, like dirt and bugs and snakes. These blankets? Much better.”
Ed petted the blankets suggestively, reveling in how soft and not-sandy they were.
“Exactly!” Stede exclaimed, “Why shouldn’t we be comfortable on a mating run? All those rocks are hard on the joints.”
Ed’s knee twinged at the mere mention of the word ‘joint’.
“Too fucking right.”
Ed collapsed onto his side so that his shirt drifted up and exposed his midriff. He popped a bit of fresh fruit in his mouth (a fucking grape of all things, he laughed to himself internally, crunching down on it with satisfaction.) He tossed his head, let his hair fall over his shoulders. Stede merely served him a cup of…milk?
“Fuck is this?” Ed grumbled, sniffing the cup.
“Coconut water! Another Roach specialty.”
Ed poked his tongue into the milky surface. Not bad.
“Could use more sugar.”
“Well you’re in luck.”
Stede popped open a ceramic bowl, filled with sparkling cubes of sugar. Ed’s eyes widened. His pulse started to race. Holy shit that was so much sugar. He held out his cup and Stede dropped a cube in.
“Won’t dissolve like in hot tea, afraid the coconut water is too tepid for that.”
“S’alright, I honestly just want the sugar.”
Ed knocked the cup back and crunched on the sugary cube of happiness. Better than rum, this stuff. Better than sex sometimes, but don’t tell anyone he said that.
“In that case, have as many as you’d like!”
“Oh fuck me. Really?” Ed whimpered, feeling the moistness between his legs grow. He clutched the ceramic bowl of sugar to his chest.
“Certainly.”
Stede dimpled when he smiled. Fucking dimples! Ed could swoon. Or maybe that was just his heat talking, as his stomach gave an almighty swoop and his guts clenched up in a brief moment of insane lust.
“Okay,” Ed heaved in a shaky breath, “Consider me romanced. Your fucking sandwiches and fucking dimples. Goddammit, fuck me into these soft blankets Stede, and hand-feed me sugar cubes between rounds, all right?”
“Pardon?” Stede croaked.
Ed sat up and tossed off his jacket.
“I’m asking you to knot me Stede. To dick me down. Fuck me hard. So on and so on. Just promise me you’ll keep me well-stocked in sugar cubes and sandwiches.”
Stede flushed, his cheeks going bright red, “Oh! You really-? With me?”
“Really really.”
His shirt was the next thing to go.
“But you’re so…,” Stede’s eyes grew very wide, as big as his fancy plates.
Ed maybe preened a little, showed off his tits and tats, two of his best assets after his ass.
“So…?” Ed fished, wiggling his eyebrows.
”So cool.”
Not exactly the adjective Ed was looking for (sexy, delicious, handsome would be the top three.)
“I’m actually really hot right now,” he joked.
He reached out to tug the fancy lace of Stede’s sleeves, “You gotta be too. Take this off for me? Wanna see you.”
Ed also wanted to use Stede’s fancy lace as a nest, just burrow into it and get that scent all over his face. Stede’s clothes looked as soft as the man himself.
Stede picked at his own coat, frowning, “I’m afraid I’m not as fine a specimen as you are, my dear.”
My dear! How presumptuous of an alpha, to be calling an omega dear before even properly giving them a good dicking down or mating bite. Ed was falling for this insane little man already.
“C’mon Stede, I’m here for dick, not abs or tats, and I bet you’ve got a great dick. Give me a little peek?” Ed batted his eyelashes.
“The mouth on you,” Stede said shakily, but his fingers were reaching for his buttons and laces.
And forget the dick for just a moment - those tits!
“My god man, what are you doing hiding these? You’ve got to wear something with a lower neckline, anything else is a crime.”
Ed cupped Stede’s generous pecs, gave them a little squeeze, just a brief hello to get acquainted. He was going to explore these much later. In depth. With his tongue.
“You’re one to talk - look at you, a work of art!”
Stede’s fingers brushed over Ed’s brown skin and black tattoos, his face enraptured. He gently caressed a nipple and Ed groaned.
“You can do whatever you want to my nips later, pinch em, suck em, they’re yours, but first I need your dick in me.”
”Well, if that’s what you want! Who am I to deny such a lovely omega?”
They toppled over onto the blanket, figuring out where to put their elbows and knees. They figured out where to put their lips real quick, finally coming together in a sugar-laced kiss.
“You taste so sweet,” Stede said, sounding like he’d been hit over the head.
“It’s the sugar cube you gave me.”
“Then I think I’ll have to feed you sugar cubes everyday. Sugar has never tasted so sweet than when I’m tasting it from your lips.”
Ed, who had never been really romanced or recited poetry in bed, was an instant fan.
“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Lend me some sugar sweetheart, your poor omega has a craving.”
Ed, too busy rubbing his crotch against Stede’s, did not notice his presumptuous use of ‘sweetheart’ or ‘your omega’ (Stede noticed and possibly had an out-of-body experience, as he had never been romanced in bed either.)
Unfortunately, that meant Ed did not notice the ant crawling up his leg until it was too late.
“Fuck!” he cried, and not in the good life-affirming way. He sprung off the blanket, managing to both knee Stede in the gut and tip over his coconut water.
“Fucking bugs! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate land.”
“Oh dear,” Stede fretted, clutching his stomach and sounding a bit winded, “I’m so terribly sorry. Did something nibble at you?”
“Fucking ants!”
Ed, never too far from his knife even when bare-assed, quickly stabbed at the ground, making lots of holes in the dirt with few dead ant bodies to show for all that exertion. From the sidelines, Stede admired the show of prowess, but mostly admired Ed’s bare ass. When Ed had worked out all his rage, Stede coaxed him over with a sugar cube.
“Will you let me take a look at the bite? I’ve got some ointment that may help with the swelling.”
Ed, remarkably, still found himself hard (well, he always did enjoy a good maim.)
“I need help with a different sort of swelling.”
Stede admired Ed’s cock, which was very swollen indeed, and made an executive decision.
“I’ve got a ship,” Stede said, “And a cabin with a soft bed, piles of clothes you can use for a nest, and practically unlimited marmalade and other sweet things. What do you say we continue this somewhere less full of bugs and sand?”
Ed, who was a fearsome captain of his own ship and was in general wary of being trapped alone and unawares in another pirate’s territory, agreed instantly. Fuck his own ship. If there was a ship with Stede and sugar and no fucking bugs, he was switching immediately. Maybe even permanently. He’d make Stede’s ship his new flagship. He mentally wished Annie a fond farewell; she was great, but she didn’t have a cook worth spit and she certainly didn’t have Stede’s dick.
“I say fuck yeah, let’s do it.”
And they did indeed do it (and Ed would also daresay that they did it quite well.)