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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

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The Pretty Boy and the Purple Scarf - [Reid x Fem!OC]

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Summary: Sam is very surprised when she gets hand picked to join the BAU. She’s even more surprised to meet Dr. Spencer Reid. It’s not surprising that she would develop feelings for him...but he can’t feel the same way. Can he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Original Character

Word Count: 7.9k

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Content Warning: Unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer, light bondage, oral sex (female receiving), language.

A/n: This fic was a commission I did for @imjusthereformggcontent‘s birthday. She told me last night that it was “so good” and it “deserved to see the light of day.” She was being overly kind as usual, but here it is. I wrote this in second person which is a bit ooc for me. I hope y’all like it. 😊

--The Pretty Boy and the Purple Scarf--

Everything about the day you transferred from the 4th floor to the 6th floor was unexpected. You had only heard of Aaron Hotchner by reputation, but you’d never actually seen the man.

Which is why you were very surprised when he came down to the 4th floor and personally requested you be reassigned to the 6th floor; truth be told, that requested sounded more like a demand. You barely had time to gather your things before you were on the elevator upstairs.

You had been greeted by a very bubbly blonde woman in hot pink high heels. She had squealed with joy when the doors slid open and she caught sight of you.

“I knew you were the right choice!” She had chirped, teetering towards you. “Your work record is phenomenal, you passed all the background checks, and you’ve technically already taken the required psych courses to be a profiler.” She was positively shaking with excitement. “And you’re as cute a stinking button and look at your hair!”

Several minutes later the woman introduced herself as Penelope Garcia. Not only was she the technical analyst for the BAU, but she also split the responsible of communications liaison with the unit chief.

She then informed you that these duties would now be split between three people, SSA Hotchner, herself…and you.

Once the initial shock had worn off, you were thrilled. You had taken the psychology courses because you had always been fascinated by the behaviors of others. You had joined the FBI because you wanted to help people.

This was your dream job!

But you’d be lying if you said that those were the only reasons that working with the behavioral analysis unit was your dream job.

When Garcia had introduced you to the team that very first day, you clicked with every member right away. David Rossi always offered you a fatherly smile whenever he saw you, Prentiss and Garcia had invited you out to their girl’s night multiple times. Derek Morgan had taken to calling you “pretty girl” which never failed to make you smile. Even Aaron Hotchner was friendly towards you…well, as friendly as he could be. Occasionally you saw his mouth twitch whenever you made a sarcastic comment; you took that to mean that he probably liked you at least a little bit.

While that was also wonderful…it wasn’t why this was your dream job.

During that very first meeting, Garcia had introduced you to everyone in the conference room. They all smiled warmly at you and offered a handshake.

“And this is our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid,” Garcia had introduced with a wave of her hand.

Dr. Spencer Reid was easily the most unexpected part of the day. He looked at least a few years older than you, so you were surprised that he had the doctor honorific, but the most startling thing was what he looked like. He was tall, possibly the tallest person in the room, with a slim build and unruly curly brown hair. His straight white teeth were dug into his bottom lip while he fidgeted nervously. And then there were his eyes. You now knew that they were brown with flecks of gold near the center, but in that light, they had actually looked like honey.

You offered him your hand, anticipating that he would greet you the way the others had; but nothing about Spencer Reid was ordinary.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead while he stared at your hand.

“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering,” he informed you, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room. “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

Out of all the things you could have said in that moment, you decided to tease him. “I mean, you’re cute. I wouldn’t say no if that’s how you wanna introduce yourself.”

A choked laugh exploded out of SSA Morgan at your comment. “Oh shit!” He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Watch out, she’s got your number, Pretty Boy!”

Pretty Boy, you thought. It definitely fits.

The rest of the team had shared in Morgan’s amusement. Even Spencer had seemed amused; amused and thoroughly embarrassed. The apples of his cheeks had turned bright red.

You just shot him a slightly awkward smile because holy fuck he was cute, especially when he was embarrassed.

Later after the rest of the team had left the conference room and returned to the bullpen, you saw Reid standing in front of the coffee station in the kitchenette.

“Hey,” you called, coming up to his side. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in there. I’m Sam.”

He offered a small smile in your direction while he poured an ungodly amount of sugar in his coffee. “Oh, you didn’t. I was 12 years old when I graduated from a Las Vegas public high school. I’m tougher than I look.”

“Dr. Reid is tougher than he looks,” you joked, crossing your arms over your chest. “Got it. I can’t promise I won’t tease you again.”

He just laughed. “If you’re going to tease me then you can just call me Spencer.”

Things had started to change about 3 weeks after that. You had finally gotten more comfortable around the team, Spencer included. True to his word, he didn’t seem to mind that you had teased him a few times over the weeks. It was all harmless stuff, of course.

“Cute tie, pretty boy” or “sweater vests are an odd choice, but I’m into it.”

Derek was thoroughly amused, telling you more than once that your remarks to Spencer were the highlight of his day and that he wished you had joined the team sooner.

Throughout all those comments, Spencer never teased you back. He’d duck his head, trying to hide the blush on his face, or he’d just smile at you.

That all changed one morning while you were standing at the coffee station. Garcia had joked that she never drank coffee before working here, but it was like the machine had some sort of hold over everyone. After almost a month here, you were starting to believe it.

You liked coffee, sure, but only if it didn’t taste too much like coffee. You were honestly concerned about people like Hotch who drank black coffee; it just seemed like they must have been through something.

“And you tease me for how much sugar I put in my coffee,” a voice said from beside you, barely able to conceal a chuckle that followed their words. “Jesus Christ, Samantha.”

You turned to smile up at him, your green eyes meeting his warm brown ones. “Nice try, pretty boy. I’m putting a perfectly reasonable amount of sugar in my coffee. I don’t use nearly as much sugar as you do.”

“Probably not,” he conceded, propping his hip up against the counter. “You’re sweet enough anyway.”

Your eyes went impossibly wide at his words, you were stunned. So stunned that you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your throat.

Dr. Spencer Reid looked just as surprised at his words as you did, two bright pink spots appearing on the apples of his cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” he squeaked out, his voice laced with embarrassment.

“You’re never going to hear me complain about you flirting with me, Dr. Reid.”

“You can call me Spencer, Samantha,” he reminded.

His words were so soft you were afraid you’d misheard him. Based on the slightly awkward look on his face, you could tell you didn’t. “Okay Spencer,” you breathed out, testing how his name felt in your mouth.

He started to turn to walk away before you found your voice again. “Oh, and you can just call me Sam. Everybody else does.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. “I know, but if it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to keep calling you Samantha.”

The tension in the air seemed to thicken at his words. How did Spencer just saying your name have this sort of effect on you? Trying to keep your composure, you just nodded. “S-sure, Spencer. You can call me Samantha if you want.”

His nervous demeanor melted away. “Good.” He had turned back around and crossed the room before you even realized what had happened.

After that day, a sort of odd friendship had started between you and Spencer Reid. What had begun as awkward flirting attempts every once in a while from him were becoming more and more frequent, and a little bit bolder in nature. You loved that he was getting more comfortable with you.

But you couldn’t ignore how things had started to shift inside you over the past few months.

Talking to Spencer was the highlight of your day. Every time he called you Samantha when the rest of the world called you Sam, you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mood always lifted whenever you listened to him talk about something he was passionate about.

One of your favorite things was how his cheeks would turn just a bit red whenever he stopped by your desk on one of his many trips to the coffee pot.

“Hey, can I get you a cup?” He’d offer, tapping his fingers against the desk.

You’d always smirk at him. “This is a weird flirting strategy, Pretty Boy,” you’d say, your voice teasing. “Not that I mind watching you walk away.”

The first time you had made that joke it took Spencer a second to get your meaning; the moment he did he flushed beet red.

Even though he acted embarrassed by your comments, he still stopped by your desk multiple times a day. Whenever he did bring you back a cup of coffee it was always made perfectly, just the way you liked it.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago when you realized what these shifting feelings had meant. You all were working a difficult case in South Dakota that was really getting to you. During a coffee run, Spencer brought you back a white chocolate mocha. When you’d looked up at him, your brows drawn together in confusion, he’d just smiled at you before he shuffled away.

Spencer Reid was becoming one of your best friends…and you were not so slowly falling for him.

The day after you got back to Quantico from Sioux Falls, you were back in the kitchenette, only this time you were getting your lunch. You normally ate lunch with either Spencer or Penelope, but you hadn’t seen the Pretty Boy since this morning.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you didn’t even realize the very person you were thinking about had snuck up on you.

“What’s that?” His voice asked from beside you, causing you to jump slightly.

“Jesus, Spence,” you mumbled, embarrassed for your reaction. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

He just smiled at you, causing your heart to beat a bit faster. “You’ve never called me Spence before,” he said softly, his eyes searching your face. “Plus, I like scaring you. And you didn’t answer my question.”

It was hard to remember anything when he smiled like that. “Oh,” you said, shaking your head slightly in an attempt to clear it. “What’s what?”

He took a step closer to you. “You have something on your wrist.”

You were taken aback at first, because how the fuck did he see that? Nobody had ever seen that tattoo unless they knew it was there. It’s impossible, Garcia must have told him about it, you had reassured yourself.

His warm hands touched your arm, pulling it closer to him while his thumb traced over the almost invisible ink on your wrist.

“Is this a tattoo?” he asked softly, bending his head down to inspect it further. “I knew about the one on the back of your neck, but I didn’t know you had this one.”

You felt your stomach flutter. He had noticed the one on the nape of your neck too?

“Y-yeah,” you managed to get out. “It’s an anchor.”

Spencer made a noise of acknowledgment, his thumb still softly rubbing over the skin of your wrist. "It's interesting. You know, originally the anchor was a symbol of safety. It wasn't until years later that it got a newer meaning."

It was so hard for you to focus when he was near you, but now he was touching you too?

"Now it's a symbol of hope," he mumbled, his head lifting, his warm brown eyes locking on to your own. "It suits you, Samantha." With that, he dropped your arm and turned to get a mug for his coffee.

Now that he wasn’t invading your senses with his presence, you could gather your thoughts slightly. “How did you know about my tattoo, Spencer?”

He didn’t look up from his caffeine driven task. “A good magician never reveals his secrets,” he said cryptically.

You scoffed, earning a chuckle from him. Spencer turned; his amber-colored eyes were swirling with mischief, but also something a bit deeper. It didn't just feel like he was looking at you; it felt like he was looking into you. It felt like he really wanted to see you in the way that all people crave to be seen. He wanted to understand you.

He took a small step closer, his hand reaching up to brush over one of the green pieces in your long brown hair. “Maybe I just pay more attention to you than you think,” he whispered before he pulled away, leaving you stunned.

He was already back at his desk before you collected your thoughts.

Spencer Reid…couldn’t feel that way about you, could he?

Your feelings about Spencer were starting to seep into the front of your mind, no matter what you did to try and keep them at bay. What made matters worse is that you worked with profilers, the best profilers. How were you supposed to keep your feelings hidden from them?

You decided the best thing to do was try to put some distance between yourself and Spencer. It was extremely hard to do, considering all you wanted to do was be near him; but he just kept making these teasing little comments.

Of course, like most things in life, your plan didn’t go work out. You had been avoiding Spencer for exactly 3 and a half hours before he made his move.

You were coming out of Garcia’s lair when you felt a hand clap around your forearm, jerking you to a stop.

Now, you were normally not an overly clumsy person, but when your momentum gets shifted so quickly, it’s only natural to stumble a bit. You turned and tripped over your feet, causing you to tumble into a very warm person.

One of his large hands caught your shoulder, steading you. Your eyes traveled up, up, up, to meet the beautiful eyes of the one and only, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Why do you insist on scaring the shit out of me?” you scolded, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand.

He looked completely unbothered. “I wouldn’t have had to scare you if you weren’t avoiding me.”

Your mouth popped open in surprise. “I’m not avoiding you!” you protested.

Spencer’s eyebrows pulled together. “Then why haven’t I seen you in the last three hours, thirty-five minutes and seventeen seconds?”

You couldn’t control your snort at his comment. “You’re so weird, do you know that?”

Something happened to Spencer's face just then; his whole expression seemed to soften somehow. "You don't mind that I'm weird though, do you, Samantha?"

Those pesky butterflies erupted in your stomach again, reminding you of your complicated feelings. You took a step back, plastering a friendly smile on your face…at least you hoped.

“You’re a weirdo, but you’re my weirdo, Spence.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s weirdo,” he quipped, shifting closer to you. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes.

“Good, because you’re stuck with me.”

His face turned thoughtfully before he spoke again. “You know,” Spencer said quietly, taking a step closer to you. “Your eyes have some yellow in them around the center. It’s almost like they’re sunflowers.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “Spence…you-you can’t…you can’t just say shit like that to me.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Because it makes me feel…It just makes me feel.”

“Is that bad?”

I don’t know. “No,” you decided. “I don’t guess it is.”

Those warm brown eyes continued to scan over your face. “No more avoiding me,” he ordered, pointing his index finger at you.

“I wasn’t avoiding you!”

He stepped away then, but not before he reached out and tugged on one of the green strands in your hair. “You’re a terrible liar, Samantha,” he informed you, before walking down the hall towards the bullpen.

“I really hope I’m not,” you muttered under your breath. You had to be a good liar right now…because what if how you were feeling made you lose your best friend?

“I need the BAU team in the conference room,” Hotch’s voice boomed out across the bullpen. “Now.”

You wrinkled your nose slightly; no cases had come in today…So why are we meeting in the conference room?

“Come on, Pretty Girl,” Morgan said when he walked by your desk. “You better hustle or else I’m gonna be the one that sits beside your Pretty Boy.”

“No, you’re not,” Spencer called out. He was already walking into the conference room, his eyes fixed on your face until the moment he entered the room.

“Uh-oooohhh,” Morgan teased, his mouth in a wide smile. “Pretty Boy is getting a little territorial, miss thing. It won’t be long now.”

Your face scrunched in confusion. “Won’t be long until what?” you asked but he was already running into the conference room. “Morgan!”

No matter how much you told yourself otherwise, you couldn’t help but feel like things were slightly different with Spencer. He had never been overly affectionate with people, but you were his friend, it wasn’t all that uncommon for him to hug you or brush up against you.

It was just that he seemed to be doing it so much more often. He was always sitting beside you on the jet, at the round table, he was even coming by your desk more than usual.

What’s more, he seemed to have a bit more confidence than normal.

You were almost positive you weren’t imagining it or letting your feelings influence your judgment.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer asked, his leg extending so he could poke your shin with the tip of his converse. You had decided to sit in one of the seats at the back of the plane; you were thinking of it as an experiment to test your theory. There was no seat directly beside of you, making the closest one the seat in front of you that was faced in your direction. In all the time you had known him, Spencer had never sat back here if other seats were available.

When he boarded the jet an hour ago his eyes had sought you out immediately, making his way to that set before flopping down into it.

Well, you had thought. I’m not totally crazy.

“I’m not thinking about anything,” you insisted, your eyes never lifting from your kindle. Spencer detested that you used an e-reader, but unlike him, you didn’t exactly feel like stuffing your go bag with heavy ass books.

He huffed. “One day I’m going to punish you for lying to me, Samantha.”

Your head flew up. “What!?” you hissed out in a loud whisper.

Spencer just lowered his eyes back to his book. “You heard me.”

The case had been a quick one to solve, thankfully. You hadn’t even been in town for 2 full days and the Tulsa police had already processed the unsub’s arrest, leaving your team free to go.

You probably could have gone home tonight if it wasn’t for the storm. There wasn’t actually a storm here that was the problem, it was the one that is Quantico. No matter how homesick anyone felt, it seemed like a unanimous decision to stay here one more night.

The team had arrived back at the hotel about 15 minutes ago, meaning you had only been in your room for 5 minutes when there was a knock on the door.

You had a sinking feeling in your gut that when you opened that door, you'd be met by a pair of warm brown eyes and wild light brown curly hair. It's not that you didn't want to see Spencer; the problem was how much you did want to see Spencer. No matter how many times you told yourself that the flirting was harmless, and he didn't feel the way you did, it didn't seem like your heart had gotten the message.

Maybe it’s not him, you thought. Maybe…maybe it’s a murderer.

No such luck was to be had, of course. You opened up the door to see the smiling, painfully handsome face of Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Spencer,” you laughed out. “We’ve only been here for like 10 minutes.”

The man just nodded, stepping around you and striding into your hotel room like he had a right to be there. "Can't I come to see my best friend?"

You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at him calling you his best friend. “You just saw me.”

“No,” he argued. “I last saw you 8 minutes and 13 seconds before you opened your door.”

Heaving out a loud sigh, you just shook your head and continued pulling things out of your go-bag.

“You don’t mind that I’m here, do you?”

That gave you pause. He didn’t sound like the confident Spencer you’d been seeing the past few weeks. He seemed like the awkward Dr. Spencer Reid who had blushed to the roots of his hair when you made a joke about kissing him.

You shot him a soft smile. “Of course I don’t mind, Spencer. You know I just like to tease you.” He seemed relieved at your answer as he went to sit on the edge of your bed. “And you seem to like teasing me too.”

“Who said I’m teasing?”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re gonna be in here, make yourself useful.” You handed him your phone charger. “Put that in my go bag.”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, not trying to hide his smile at your bossy tone. “Why am I putting this…what’s this?”

You turned your head to see the purple fabric in his hands. “A scarf? Have you never seen a scarf before?” you teased. “Some genius you are.”

His face pulled a sour look at your words that made you smile harder. “I just haven’t seen it before. I like it.” Spencer started wrapping the scarf around his neck.

“Wow, Dr. Reid,” you called out, your eyes running over his form. “Very sexy. You’re gonna drive the girls wild.”

"There's only one person I'm interested in driving wild," he said softly before he snapped back into his teasing tone. "Purple is my favorite color, you know."

You weren’t even thinking when you said, “I know, that’s why I picked it.” Spencer’s head swung in your direction, clearly surprised by your words. “Anyway,” you hurried out. “Maybe you should keep it; you look adorable Spencie.”

He hated it when anyone called him Spencie and you knew that. You had made the comment to hopefully throw him off from your confession that you picked out that scarf because it reminded you of him.

“What happened to sexy?!” he demanded. “I do not look adorable.” His beautiful face was marred by a scowl.

You put your hands on your hips, giving him an exaggerated once over. “I don’t know, you look pretty adorable to me, Spencie.”

Spencer’s eyes had taken on a different look than you weren’t used to seeing directed at you. It was the same look he always had when he was trying to solve a problem. “You really think I’m just adorable, don’t you?”

Now it was your turn to look at him oddly. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” He took a step closer to you as soon as the words left your mouth, causing you to take a step back. “What are you doing?”

“Proving I’m not adorable,” he said, his words quiet but harsh.

"How-" You never got to finish your question; before you could even realize that he was moving his right hand wrapped around your throat, using his momentum to push you back one final step until you were pressed between the wall and his body.

You blinked up at him, trying to ignore how all of this made you feel. Even in this situation, you still couldn’t believe that Spencer was actually attracted to you the way you were to him. This is probably just like his Eastwood impression, you thought.

His head was bent down, bringing his face much closer to yours than you were used to. You could see the perpetual shadows he had under his remarkable eyes, the small crease in his skin between his eyebrows.

"Is this how you prove you're not adorable?" You had tried to make your tone sound light like your heart wasn't about to beat out of your chest, but it hadn't worked. Your voice sounded breathy and curious even in your own ears.

He looked over your face one final time, looking for some sort of emotion that he must have found because the next instant his grip on your throat got slightly tighter. His face moving so much closer to yours that your noses almost brushed.

“No,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips. “This is.”

Before you could process his words, his lips finally brushed against yours. He was hesitant at first, but he grew bolder when you gasped against his mouth.

How many times had you imagined this moment? Yearned for it? And somehow the feeling of his body against yours was more than you had ever imagined. He was more than you ever imagined.

He took advantage of the gasp you let out, his kiss growing more hungry, more frantic. His body pushed into yours, his thigh coming forward to wedge between both of yours. You were vaguely aware of his hand leaving your throat, but all thought left your head when you felt both of his hands cradled your face. His thumb rubbed against your cheek while he tilted your head where he wanted it.

Spencer Reid was in complete control of this kiss, and you were getting swept away.

His tongue brushed over your bottom lip, seeking entrance to the heat of your mouth. He groaned low in his throat when you immediately opened for him, the movements of your tongue just as bold as his. When your hands came up to grip his sides, one of his hands slid to the back of your head, his long fingers tangling in your hair.

There wasn't a moment of unsureness in this kiss; Spencer kissed you like he had done it a thousand times before. Eventually, the need for air became too great, causing you to break apart. You whimpered slightly when his teeth caught your bottom lips, tugging at it while he pulled his mouth away.

“I’m not adorable,” he panted out against your mouth.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at him in wonder. “I got that.”

His thumb moved over to run against your bottom lip. “No,” he whispered, his eyes scanning yours. “I don’t think you do.”

Those words seemed to hold a greater meaning that you couldn't quite put your finger on. How was anyone's mind supposed to work correctly when this man was standing so close?

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

"Yes." Because of course, you did.

For that moment he looked unsure like he was battling with something he wanted so desperately but was too afraid to reach out and grab. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

You didn’t get to ask him what he meant before he was on you again. This kiss was filled with the same passion as the last, but his hands had begun to roam around your body. Down to your throat, over your shoulders, brushing against the sides of your breast, and the sides of your waist, until they came to the bottom of your shirt.

He pressed his thigh more firmly against the part of you that ached for this man. When you groaned into his mouth, he broke away, his mouth trailing kisses across your cheek, then down to your neck.

Spencer gripped the bottom of your shirt, his thumbs ghosting against your skin before he started pushing it up your body.

Through the fog of lust in your brain, you realized what he was doing, causing you to tense slightly. He must have felt the shift in your body because he pulled his head up from its place against your skin, his eyes searching your face.

“We don’t have to do this, Samantha,” he whispered.

“No!” Your voice came out in a rush. “No, Spence I want to. I really want to.” He smirked at your words, one of his hands coming up to brush over the green streaks in your hair, his eyes still filled with fire, but somehow so incredibly soft.

“Spence, it’s just…I don’t know…I’m not…and you’re so…you’re so hot!”

He huffed out a laugh at your words, bringing the hand that had been touching your hair over to cradle the left side of your face. “You have to know that I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.”

But how could you have known that?

“Samantha, you have no idea how I feel every fucking time I look at you.” He brought his mouth down again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to both of your cheeks. “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

You felt your breath catch. “Do it then.”

Spencer looked unsure for just a moment before he looked into your eyes again. "They really do look like sunflowers," he muttered to himself. "If you want me to stop, just tell me to stop."

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

He just smirked down at you before his entire demeanor changed. “We’ll see. Take off your shirt, Samantha.”

You were shocked at the sudden amount of authority in his tone.

“I won’t ask again, Pretty Girl.”

You were still slightly nervous, but the pull inside of you to obey his words was so much stronger than any sort of insecurity you felt. It was if your hands moved automatically, gripping the bottom of your shirt before tugging it over your head.

Spencer’s eyes ran over your newly exposed skin, lingering over your breasts. He reached his hand out towards you, his fingers brushing from your collarbones down to the tops of your breasts. Once they reached the edge of your bra, he paused, looking at you again.

“Your skin is soft, it’s like you were made to be touched,” he mused, unwinding the scarf from his neck. “Take this off. I’ve waited long enough to see your tits.”

Shocked at his words, you once again complied immediately. When your upper body was completely bared to him, he released another groan. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You felt yourself almost blush at his words.

“Hold your hands out.” Both of your arms extended in front of you. Your eyes went impossibly wide when he brought both off your wrists together before winding your scarf around them, binding you.

“I’d prefer to tie you to the bed, but this will have to do for now.” The scarf was secured now, but you knew you could break out of it if you needed to. “I want you to lay on the bed, raise your arms over your head.”

Once you had reached the position he had instructed, you turned to watch him. He had taken his tie off before he came to your room, leaving him in just a button-down shirt and his slacks. The placement of your arms brought your breasts higher; a sight Spencer must have enjoyed based on how long his gaze stayed there.

Before you were ready, he started removing his shirt. He looked so slim in his clothes; you hadn’t expected his body to look so well defined. Spencer Reid without a shirt was quite a sight to behold.

He joined you on the bed, his face hovering over your own. “I left my pants on because if I don’t have anything to stop me, I’m not going to be able to hold back. I’ll fuck you until you scream.”

You whimpered at his words. “Don’t worry my pretty girl, we’ll get there. But I want to savor you first. Keep your hands where they are, if you move them, I will punish you. Do you understand?”

You were struggling to think, his hands were moving over your skin again, those long fingers finally touching your breast, moving closer to your nipple.

“I asked you a question, Samantha.”

“Yes,” you responded, licking your lips.

Suddenly his fingers reached your nipple, he ghosted his thumb against the bud before he gave it a sharp pinch. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

He groaned at the sound of his honorific leaving your lips before he gave you a smile that was almost predatory. Spencer shoved your thighs apart, bringing his body to settle against you. You could feel how hard he was against you, even though all of your clothes.

He only gave you a brief, soft kiss before he started moving down your body. He wasted no time now. His lips closed over the tip of one breast while his hand cupped the other.

“Oh my god,” you moaned out, already trying to rock your body against his. That feeling got more frantic when you felt his teeth graze against you before he started to suck you into his mouth hard. His hand left your breast, moving down your stomach until he found the fastenings of your pants.

With a pop, the button sprang free; the sound of the zipper lowering was so loud in the otherwise silent room. The shifting of your hips got more and more desperate when you felt his fingertips run across the elastic band of your panties.

With one final nip of his teeth, he lifted his head, staring down at you. “Such a needy girl.” He pushed his body off of yours, coming to rest on his knees between your thighs.

His hand both moved to your sides, just above your pants. He raked his fingers down the skin until he caught the waistbands of your pants and panties. Spencer revealed you to his gaze slowly; so slowly you were afraid you would spontaneously combust.

Once he had you completely naked on the bed, he ran his hands over your legs, admiring you.

“I was right to leave my pants on,” he chuckled. “It’s taking everything I have not to wrap your thighs around me and finally fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimpered out when his hand ghosted over the skin of on the inside of your knee.

“Soon, pretty girl. But first, I’d rather find out how those thighs feel wrapped around my head.”

You forgot how to breathe at his words. He leaned down, shifting farthing down the bed. Spencer's mouth moved over the skin of your inner thighs with a trail of wet, open mouth kisses.

When he finally reached his destination, he turned his head to the side pressing one finally kiss against your thigh before his teeth caught the skin. The sensation caused you to buck your hips.

“Hold still, Samantha,” he breathed against you. “I want you to hold still while I make you cum with my mouth. Can you do that?”

You weren’t sure if you could, but you bit your lip and nodded anyway.

“That’s my good girl.” That was the last thing he said before he pressed a kiss to your pussy.

His tongue ran against the entirety of your slit once before he parted you with his thumbs. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re so wet, pretty girl. You’re absolutely soaked for me.”

Even if you had wanted to respond to his words, you couldn’t have, because right after he finished speaking his tongue tapped against your clit. Using all the willpower you had, you tried to keep your hips still while his tongue made slow circles around your clit before moving down to your entrance.

He ran his tongue around it before he speared it inside of you, his thumb coming up to rub your clit while he fucked you with his tongue.

“You taste so good,” he moaned against you. The sensation making your legs shake.

“Please, please Doctor.” Your voice was a whine. Seeing Spencer Reid’s head between your thighs was the sexiest thing on the planet.

You could feel his mouth turn up in a smirk. His thumb kept its tortuously slow pace. “Please what, Samantha?”

“Please make me cum, please.”

You felt his other hand move over to your opening, two fingers entering you without warning, causing you to arch your back.

He withdrew them immediately at your movement, raising his upper body to look at you. You were not expecting it when his hand came down against your pussy in a sharp slap.

“Fuck!”

“I told you to hold still, Samantha.”

Your thighs were shaking in your efforts. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I’m trying.”

He smiled, running his tongue over his lips. “I know, Pretty Girl.”

His fingers pushed back inside of you, curling up. He shifted his hand slightly until he brushed again the spot inside of you that caused you to moan out a broken plea.

Your eyes had closed in both pleasure and as a show of self-control. If you saw what Spencer was doing to your body right now there was no way you’d be able to stop yourself from moving.

When you felt his mouth close around your clit, you were unable to keep your eyes shut. You had to look at him. His eyes were closed in bliss, his arm moving at a faster past.

His eyes snapped open and his mouth lifted when you moaned out his name. “Are you gonna cum, Pretty Girl?” he teased. “I can feel your tight little pussy squeezing my fingers. Fuck. I’m so fucking hard just thinking about what it will feel like when you cum all over my cock.”

“Spencer, please. I’m so close Please.”

He moved his mouth back down to the seam of your body. “You’ve been such a good girl, Samantha. You can move now, but your arms stay where they are. I want you to fuck this pretty pussy on my face. Can you do that?”

You nodded, your hips already moving to grind against him, seeking out your own pleasure. When his lips took your clit into his mouth, sucking softly, while his fingers curled into you, you were unable to control the loud moan that came out of your mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

Spencer’s fingers still moved inside of you, bringing you through your orgasm. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh as he removed his fingers when you finally started to come down from your orgasm, he then put his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before he spoke. “I’ve thought about how you’d look after you came for me so many times,” he said quietly, moving up your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “This is better than I imagined.”

You tried to deepen the kiss, but you knew you couldn’t move your arms yet.

“You’re not done, are you baby?” He laughed when you frantically shook your head “no.” You didn’t think you’d ever be done with this man.

His hand shot up to wrap around your throat; he applied pressure to the sides to restrict the blood flow. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, Samantha."

You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his hand against you.

“Still such a needy girl,” he teased. “Now, you’re not done, are you?”

“No Doctor,” you rasped out.

Spencer smiled before he brought his mouth to yours again. He didn’t remove his hand from your throat while his tongue slicked into your mouth. It twirled against your own until he sucked the tip of your tongue into his mouth.

He pulled away with a groan. “I can’t fucking stand this anymore.” His hands moved to his pants, undoing them in a flash. You caught sight of him inside of his underwear. He palmed himself, his eyes on your face before he finally peeled those down too.

Spencer was well above average in everything else, it wasn’t surprising that he was here too. His hand wrapped around his cock, giving a few pumps while his eyes ran over your body.

“Turn over.”

You moved onto your stomach; Spencer pulling you up on to your knees. You felt both of his hands run over your ass until his right one lifted.

He gripped his cock in his hand, bringing it to your dripping center. Even that powerful orgasm hadn’t satisfied your desire for this man.

You felt the head of his cock slip into you, causing you both to groan. “Fucking Christ,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He started to slowly fuck himself into you, going deeper with every thrust. Your upper body was propped up on your elbows, your head hanging between them. You had never felt so overwhelmed by a man like this before.

With one final thrust, his hips slapped against your ass as he filled you completely.

Your face dropped into the pillow when he started to move; you were unable to control how loud you were moaning.

Those long fingers tangled in your hair again, pulling your head up. “No,” he growled, his rhythm never faltering. “I’ve thought about fucking you for too long. I want to hear you, do you understand.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip while your hips pushed back against him. "Yes, Doctor."

“Good girl,” was all he said but he didn’t release your hair.

This was a torture of the sweetest kind. Your hands were bound, both of his hands were holding you in place while he fucked you in an almost primal way, but you need to touch your clit so badly you could cry. You were already so close again.

Spencer must have realized it then too. He pulled out of your body, causing a whine to slip from your throat, your hips pushing back to seek him out again.

“On your back, Pretty Girl.” He helped you roll, settling himself between your thighs again. His fingers ran over the bindings on your wrists before he brushed his mouth against yours.

He gripped his cock again, lining it up with your entrance before he slowly started to sink into you. He pulled your legs up higher around his waist, pulling him deeper. You both groaned at the sensation.

Spencer started rocking against you, his pelvis grinding against your clit. He kissed you again, both of his lips covering your top lip.

You let out another whimper when his pace quickened.

“I should be so mad at you, Samantha,” he rasped against your lips. “You’ve kept this perfect pussy away from me for too long.”

His words caused you to clench around him. He lifted his upper body again, only this time one hand when to your throat, the other moving between your bodies.

You felt his thumb circle your clit while his fingers choked you again. “Come on, Samantha. I want you to cum for me, pretty girl.” Your head was thrashing against his hold, your body moving against his desperately. “I can feel it; cum on my cock baby.”

You might have screamed when the orgasm broke inside of you but you lost all sense of time and space when you came for him. Spencer's pace never slowed, his hands lifting from you to grab onto the headboard. His thrusts were brutal and seemed to extend your own orgasm.

With one final thrust, he groaned out “Samantha”, a look that you would remember for the rest of his life on his face while he found his release inside of you.

He quickly reached up and undid the bindings around your wrist with one movement. You brought your arms down, wincing at the pins and needles feeling.

“Sore?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing over your wrists.

“It was worth it,” you teased.

He smirked up at you. “So, am I still adorable?”

“I don’t know,” you pretended to consider him. “There isn’t enough data to reach a conclusion. You’re a man of science, you should know that.”

“Only you would make a science joke at a time like this.”

“It’s why you like me.”

His gaze softened, his hand cradling your face again. “It’s one of the reasons.”

You hadn’t gotten a chance to really talk to Spencer since that night in Oklahoma. He had slept in your room, causing both of you to rush around frantically the following morning so you wouldn’t miss the plane.

Then you had a full day of paperwork before Penelope insisted that everyone needed to unwind and have fun. So, against everyone’s will, she had dragged us to a bar nearby.

Now it was the next day and you had a nervous sort of excitement fluttering in your stomach.

“It’s a bit warm for a scarf, Pretty Boy,” Morgan called out, startling you.

You had noticed your purple scarf was missing from your go bag but you just assumed you left it in the hotel room.

That was evidently not the case as Dr. Spencer Reid walked into the BAU bullpen with it wrapped around his neck.

“My neck gets cold,” he defended. “I’m not used to short hair yet.”

That seemed to satisfy everyone else, but you didn’t miss the smirk he sent your way, or how he placed the scarf on his desk where you could see it.

It wasn’t until after 10 am that you could finally get a chance to speak to him alone. He didn’t look at all surprised when you started walking towards his desk, he just turned his chair to face you, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“Are you going to give me my scarf back?” you questioned, your tone both amused and expectant.

Spencer just smiled at you, his cockiness seeming to have vanished. He looked almost nervous when he asked, “Are you going to go on a date with me?”

Despite all you had done, you couldn’t control the rush of surprise at his request. “Yes,” you informed him with a huge smile on your face.

His smile was just as earnest. “Finally,” he muttered, turning his chair back towards his desk. “And since you said ‘yes’, I think I’ll hang on to the scarf for a bit longer.”

-- The end.

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walviemort · 3 years

Text

hidden blessing (7/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: Sorry for the long gap between chapters! Life and all that. But hopefully there will be less gap between this and the next ones, and hope it was worth the wait!

To Killian’s surprise, part of Emma’s plan of preparation was rest; she was pointedly looking at him when she made the suggestion, and honestly, he’d been too relieved at the idea to say anything against it. Even more shockingly, Regina agreed, and for the first time since they’d set foot in this accursed land, Killian finally felt rested; even the nausea had abated, though he was sure it wouldn’t last long.

What did concern him, however, was the sound of David struggling once they finally set off toward Pan’s camp. Snow teased him, but Killian was worried that his brush with the Lost One’s arrow had been far too close.

And then, of course, Pan moved the camp—in the opposite direction that they’d been moving. As usual, Regina was quick to blame him and call for the use of magic. Which was a terrible idea, and he told her so, but did give him another.

“How are we going to find it?” she sniped.

“By using someone he trusts,” he replied, patience waning.

“Who?” David challenged. “Because I guess he certainly doesn't trust you.”

He’d never gain ground with David, would he? “A fairy who lived here when I was about,” he explained, ignoring the jab. “She might still be on the island. She'd be an inside source, knows all about the camp, can get us in. She might even have some pixie dust left. Perhaps we could fly in.”

In the continuation of their hot-and-cold relationship, David supported the idea—and Emma apparently discovered another person she knew to be fictional was real. If he ended up raising this child in Storybrooke, he’d have to be sure to keep such tales far away from them.

They redirected, but David was flagging. And Killian hated that he knew why.

It took some prodding, but David eventually was convinced to show Killian his injury, lifting his shirt just enough to expose his lower abdomen. The more hormonal part of Killian was slightly jealous of the man’s not only flat, but incredibly well toned stomach, briefly mourning the loss of his own, but it gave way to dread: there was a long, shallow slice along David’s side, and black veins were already spreading from the cut.

And yet, David still tried to argue that “The arrow only nicked me.”

But Killian had seen enough brushes with the vile poison to know what lay ahead. The sight turned his stomach, dredging up painful memories. But the stubborn prince wouldn’t heed his advice to tell his family.

“Pixie dust,” David insisted was the answer. “You believe in this Tinker Bell's power? In her pixie dust?”

“Indeed, I do.” Tink had never given him reason not to. (Though, to be fair, most of their interactions were a bit more physical than verbal, and with the way the slightest thing had him aroused right now, he didn’t dare wander down that path of memory.)

“Then let's get her and that dust.”

It was hard to argue with that.

Her treehouse was still in the same spot; given his familiarity, he headed up first, only to find it empty. (Although still far too familiar; memories of one particular night spent in that hammock definitely stirred some things he hadn’t wanted stirred. Bloody hormones.)

Thankfully his pants were still loose enough to hide anything he didn’t want shown as the rest of the crew joined him in the treehouse, although their search came up empty.

Well, not entirely—while Emma and Snow were reminiscing on the hovel’s resemblance to some places they’d lived, David uncovered a handkerchief. Of Regina’s.

He should have known Tink would be steps ahead of them; she usually was.

Thankfully, she hadn’t caused Regina any harm—and Emma managed to convince her to join them. He wasn’t really surprised—Emma clearly had that way with lost souls such as themselves—though he had assumed his own rapport with the fairy would be required.

(He was pleased, however, that Tink was not averse to his flirtations, even if she was no longer the main object of them.)

Their shared history meant she could read him too well, though. On the trek back to their campsite, she sidled up to him. “So who knocked you up?” she bluntly whispered.

How the hell could she tell? Not that it really mattered, he supposed. “First time you’ve seen me in 30 years and that’s your first question?”

“Well, you weren’t the last time I saw you. Oh god—it wasn’t me, was it?”

He chuckled. “No, lass, it was not.” He had a keen memory for these things and he and Tink, despite the numerous positions they explored, never managed the specific one required for conception. “And actually, I was when you last saw me; I just didn’t know it yet.”

The moment of realization was visible on her face. “Oh my goodness. Then let me say congratulations.”

“Thanks, love.”

She then punched him in the shoulder. “You better be damn careful.”

“Bloody hell; that doesn’t exactly help.”

She helped them gather up some coconuts to share before settling in for the night (or whatever part of day it was; his circadian rhythm was definitely off, and his random bouts of fatigue didn’t help). After they’d passed them around, he sat down and was starting to notch a hole in one with his hook when Emma took a seat next to him.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” she asked quietly. “Stomach feeling alright and everything?”

He was speechless for a moment; despite her previous admission, he was surprised she cared. But her green eyes were staring him down, demanding an answer. “Aye; nothing too bad today; thank you for asking.” He broke through to the hollow core of the coconut and handed it to Emma. She took a sip and smiled.

“Damn, that’s good. I didn’t just take yours, did I?” He replied by grabbing another one and holding it aloft. “Good. You need to stay hydrated.”

“I’m aware, doctor.”

She snorted at that and took another sip, but then her smile drifted away as she swallowed. “So, uh, you seemed to know Tink pretty well.”

“Aye, you could say that; we go back quite far.”

“Were you two—is she—?” Emma stammered, then nodded toward his midsection. He had to bite back a laugh.

“Yes and no,” he answered. “We did know each other intimately, but not that intimately.”

She adorably scrunched her face in confusion, then shrugged. “Okay, I was just curious. You still need to explain all that to me, but not tonight.”

“No, not tonight; you better rest up.”

“You too, okay?”

“Aye, captain.”

She rolled her eyes, but stood and headed back toward where her parents sat. The longer he spent in her presence, the more he felt it when she left. This was definitely not the time or place to be warring with those feelings, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was mature enough to set them aside and focus on the bigger picture—saving Henry and escaping this cursed realm—but bloody hell was it difficult.

The near-constant flutters within began their tiny dance again; he hoped the way his hand rested on his belly was perceived as casual. Feeling that was yet another reminder of his goals here: to make it out alive for the sake of the babe, and let no harm come to them.

He was allowed to have some fun along the way, though—right?

-------------------------------------------

Of course, those moments were few and far between. The next day brought Tink’s uncomfortable reminder that they’d yet to figure out a way out of Neverland, and led them chasing ghosts across the island as he brought them to Bae’s old hideaway.

He had never let the lad know that he was aware of its location. Or that he’d been keeping an eye on him ever since he left the Roger. That was still his greatest regret, and he hoped no one noticed the tears brimming at his eyes as he moved to uncover the entrance to Bae’s cave.

Deflection usually helped; he did find a brief moment to engage Emma, but David stepped in before she could reply. It was hard to tell if it was fatherly protection or pure stubbornness against his own fate that was the motivation. Of course, David didn’t want to hear another lecture about his situation as they opened the cave, but he got one anyway; perhaps this pregnancy was elevating Killian’s already intense protective instincts, but the man’s insistence on hiding his condition was infuriating and heartbreaking.

Honestly, the only thing that kept him back from really tearing into David was Emma calling out for him from the cave. His heart gave a leap at that, one that was clearly distinguishable from the rolling of his stomach that typically accompanied nausea, and he headed in with one last glance at David. He could deal with him later, but he’d not leave a lady waiting.

“What is this place? What are we doing here?” she demanded impatiently, trying to make out anything in the dark of the cave. Ever one for the dramatic reveal, Killian headed straight to a waiting torch on the back wall and quickly made to light it with his flint against his hook. At least, he had hoped it would be quickly, but the ever present humidity made that difficult; and then David was again pushing him aside with some firestarter from his realm. Bloody hell, was that man stubborn. But it had the desired effect, and Emma quickly realized where they were. “Neal,” she said on a breath, studying the chalk drawings that covered nearly every surface. “This is where he lived.”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “Baelfire spent some time in Neverland as a boy. This was his home.” His eyes were immediately drawn to a reproduction of the port and starboard coordinates that were still etched into the Jolly Roger’s helm, sending a wave of guilt and sadness through him.

The group wasted no time in beginning to search for a clue as to how Bae had left; clearly, it had been in a rush. And if Killian used it as an excuse to hover around Emma...well, that was his business.

“Anything important?” he asked as she inspected the wall.

“I can't tell yet. I didn't know he liked drawing.”

“He got it from his mother,” Killian found himself blurting out; it was also easy to see Milah’s influence in Bae’s style, and his hand immediately fluttered to his belly on instinct. Emma gave him a sympathetic half smile, but then turned her attention back to the task at hand—and in the process, discovered the way off...partly.

It was a rather ingenious device, he had to admit: a star map hidden in a coconut. Practical and creative; he couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt when he explained it to the group.

“Then you can read it,” Regina stated, uncharacteristically hopeful. Which made the next part all the harder.

“Sadly, no.” Because of course, Bae had made sure to encode the coordinates in a manner that only he could read.

“Which means the only person who can read it is dead,” Emma summarized, clearly upset. She tossed the map aside and hurried out of the cave in a fluster. Her parents tried to follow, but didn’t get far before she told them she needed space.

Kililan only waited a minute before following.

She was only a few yards outside the cave entrance, forearm pressed against a tree as she stared at the ground and, most likely, was trying not to express any undesired emotion.

“You alright, love?” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

She huffed. “No, not really. Just one step forward and three back, every fucking day.”

She continued to rant without any input from him—about the jungle, about Pan, about missing Henry, and her mixed feelings toward Bae. And it became abundantly clear to Killian that she needed a respite (he certainly could use one, too).

He knew just the place, too. “Swan, can I show you something?”

“Is it another way off the island?”

“Afraid not, but I think it’s what you need right now.”

She sighed, mildly defeated (which was still as much as he’d ever seen from her), but nodded.

It was a short walk to their destination—still within earshot of the Charmings if needed—but far enough to give them both some needed room to breathe. He brushed back a swag of foliage (after checking for dreamshade) and gestured for Emma to step through.

Years ago, he’d discovered the small spring here; one of the few parts of the island not bent on murdering its inhabitants. The water was fresh and cool, and various fruits and edible plants grew around the edge. Back then, he’d made a point to keep access to it open for Bae; he was relieved to see nothing had changed, save for the few vines grown over the entrance.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma sighed—a heavy thing of both awe and relief.

“Aye. Only a few places like it on the island.”

“Let me guess: the water is acid or something?”

He chuckled. “Blessedly, no. It’s one of the safest places here, actually. Bae would come here often—for water, and to bathe.”

She sighed. “Yeah, one of those sounds great right about now.”

“Go right ahead,” he said, gesturing to the spring. “I’ll keep a lookout for you.”

She arched an eyebrow and smirked. “How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get me out of my clothes? Don’t forget: I know what pregnancy hormones are like.”

She wasn’t wrong, and he couldn’t help the rush of thrill when she flirted with him like that, sarcastic as it was—or the slight southern rush of blood. “Well, I had planned to do the same, if you’d offer me the same courtesy once you’re done.”

“Okay. But turn around,” she directed. He couldn’t say no to that.

He also wasn’t about to divulge the places his imagination wandered as he heard the gentle splashes of water as she cleaned herself.

She didn’t take long—he could tell she was used to being efficient when it came to hygiene, like he was—and was fully dressed by the time he turned around, though her wet hair was still dripping. And he was more relieved than he planned on that she was already facing away when it came time to remove his tunic; he was by no means ashamed of the curve of his belly, but showing off something that was apparently unnatural to the woman he fancied was suddenly a mortifying endeavor.

He was quick, too, in washing up, and in getting redressed—at least his tunic; he let his vest hang unbuttoned for a bit. It had also been a minor bit of relief to undo it, and he’d need a moment to subtly loosen the laces in order to make it both more comfortable and better disguise his slight bump.

He’d given Emma the all clear to turn around before he did that, though, lest she get suspicious. Although—she seemed mildly disappointed when she did.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, just...you didn’t have to hide your bump, if that’s what you were doing,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

“Bummed you couldn’t see me shirtless?” he quipped.

That drew a wry, side-eyed grin from her, before she sat down on a stone near the edge of the spring and took a long sip from her freshly filled jug. There was enough space on it next to her for another person to join, but he didn’t want to impose...at least, not until she called out, “Are you gonna join me or not?”

He picked up his vest and coat from where he’d left them in the sand of the small beach and made his way over, then settled next to her. She passed over the canteen; the water was cool and refreshing—and he nearly dropped it when the babe gave a strong kick. “I guess this one likes it too,” he said after he passed it back, and let his hand rest over his belly. It wasn’t often he felt strong movements like that, but each one was reassuring—that his babe was safe from all the dangers of this murderous island.

“Have they been doing that a lot?” Emma asked.

“Here and there; that’s one of the stronger ones I’ve felt.”

“I remember when Henry first did that,” she started. “I dropped my lunch tray, I was so startled. And they wouldn’t give me any more food. But it was...kind of incredible.”

He only understood half those words, but understood the sentiment. “I was still locked up in Tamara’s apartment when I felt the first one.”

“What a coincidence; I was in prison.”

He was growing to hate the number of parallels in their lives.

“Anyways—how’s everything else? Any nausea, cravings, anything?”

It was touching that she was so concerned, but he didn’t dare complain about anything other than the intermittent nausea. As she’d said, she knew about the hormones. “Although, my boots have been annoying tight,” he did add, “and I need to loosen my vest a bit.”

Her eyes had drifted to his midsection, but quickly glanced up. He couldn’t fault her for being curious, so he tugged the edge of his tunic up to reveal his stomach.

“Aww, that’s a cute bump,” she gushed; it was an odd thing to say, he thought, but she clearly meant it as a compliment. “You said sixteen weeks, right?”

“Aye,” he answered, impressed she remembered.

“Yeah, I think that’s where I was with Henry around then. I carried it all in front, apparently.” She quickly grew quiet, and he could tell that wasn’t the sort of thing she shared with too many people. But then her expression grew quizzical. “Can I ask...how, or where, exactly are you carrying?”

“I clearly have a womb,” he said, trying to make light of what was clearly going to be an awkward anatomical conversation.

“Well, yeah, but…you’re a guy. Also clearly,” she responded, eyes glancing at his groin.

“Yes; I have both, then, if that’s what you’re asking, but my womb is...I suppose less functional than yours.”

“So...what, you don’t get periods or something? How does this all work?”

He chuckled at her bluntness and explained—how his womb was something of a secondary characteristic, menstruation only occurred once a year or so, and conception was also only possible at a specific time and when the female partner was on top (a fact that made her blush). “Milah and I...our last joining before she died, it would have been the right circumstances, but given how slim the chances of conception were, it wasn’t something we were concerned with.”

“It only takes once,” she said knowingly.

“That it does,” he agreed.

They settled into an easy silence, and the baby started kicking again, even more once he put his palm over it.

“Do you...want to feel it?” he asked; no one but the doctor had thus far, but he knew women and their partners and friends usually shared those moments. They counted as friends, right?

He was worried she might think he was crossing a line, but she grinned. “Yeah!”

Gently, he took her hand and placed it over the spot just to the side of his navel where the babe was pressing. Hopefully, she didn’t notice his quick intake of breath at the feel of her warm palm on his skin.

If she did, it was quickly forgotten when the little one was kicking at her hand; her eyes lit up. “Hey there, kid,” she said softly. “Look at you, growing big and strong.”

She looked up at him, smiling—and very close to him, a fact she too seemed to suddenly realize, and she quickly moved away.

They lingered at the pond a while longer, enjoying the respite from the craziness of their journey.

But Killian couldn’t stop his heart from racing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from Emma’s proximity, or her interest in his babe, or both.

(Emma, she was surprised to find, was facing a similar predicament. She couldn’t linger on it, she knew, but maybe when they were done, she could try to figure out what that meant.)

But for one minute, they were just two friends enjoying a quiet moment.

————————————————–

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #killian mpreg #hidden blessing #My ff

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

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I think you. should ask Janus to "slither" over to your house! But also give him options! Like, "would you like to join me for dinner at my house? Or do you prefer to just go on a walk? How about we go to a fancy restaurant~ My treat~. Or maybe just enjoy each other's company at a park? You don't have to of course!"

(Words: 2095)

Logan: "Ah yes wonderful tactics stranger! This will surely be useless in my upcoming attempt!"

It was nearing the end of the day. Janus was closing up. Meanwhile Logan was trying to calm his nerves by reminding himself that he was objectivly very cool. He had on one of his best sweaters to look extra good (it had the tardis on it!).

"Alright. Looks like we can go home and have an existential crisis about the passage of time" Janus said motioning towards the exit.

Logan took a deep breathe before grabbing onto the sleeve of his crush' shirt "Please wait just a moment. How long have we known each other?"

"I guess since I started working here...so around 6 months? Please don't tell me you’re quitting! Work would just become soooo much more enjoyable"

"I was actually wondering if you mayhaps would like to accompany me on a so called 'hang out' during our leisure time...Today...Or some other day! If you want to! You don't have t-"

"No! No I would hate to!- Love! I mean I would love to!" Janus couldn't stop himself from grinning.

Logan flapped his hands in happiness "Good! So would you maybe like to go to the park nearby or-"

"No! Yes! Yes!"

"Great!"

Logan walked out of the library and held the door open for Janus. After quickly locking they walked towards the park. It was a simple small one. Just some trees, lots of grass, lots of people smoking grass, a pond, angry ducks, even angrier swans and exactly 1 ice cream shop.

All Logan wanted to do was take his crush' hand. It would be hard to do even if he tried to because Janus was constantly fiddling with his gloves. He was barely even looking at where he was walking.

"....I'm sorry for the weird way I talk sometimes" Janus quietly confessed "With the backwards talk. I kind of lie when I get nervous? I think?"

"Oh I know" Logan replied.

"You kNOw?" Janus' voice went up a tone.

"It is very noticeable but it is also quite charming if I may say so myself" It took a moment before he carefully added "Besides I have read that compulsive lying and also vitiligo can come from great stress or bad...events so even if I did not find it charming I wouldn't hold it against you either"

A small smile played on the edges of Janus' lips "Thanks"

"No need"

He took an impressively deep breathe before he stopped in the middle of the road and dramatically grabbed onto both of Logan's shoulders to stop him. He stood on his toes to make himself taller and stared into his love's eyes.

"I do not think you are also charming at all!!!" Janus very loudly announced.

Logan let up into a chuckle. He forced himself to keep eye contact "Well thank you"

Janus let go of him and kept walking very very quickly to try and distract from his red cheeks and heavy breathing. That was flirting right??? He had flirted??? He had done it??? He'd flirted??? The little voice in his head that he was starting to think was his self confidence trying to break through to him would be so proud!!!

“So would you perhaps like an ice cream in these trying times?” Logan asked. He was walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Oh right I would definitely love something high calorie that would just make me even more gross”

“Somehow your thick layer of sarcasm was the part of that sentence with the least falsehood in it. We can share one? Or if you get uncomfortable eating desserts in front of other people we don’t have-”

“SNAKE!” Janus interrupted him.

He ran out into the grass of the park and hunched down to gently pick up a slippery snake. It was small enough to keep in one hand. He was repeatedly hitting his other arm against his leg and putting his fingers in uncomfortable positions.

Logan happily sat down next to him. Janus ungraciously shoved the snake right up near his face.

“It’s a baby northern watersnake! It’s not venomous I promise. It hunts fishes in the water. Isn’t that cool? It’s also one of the few species that doesn’t lay eggs! It can even put out musk to protect itself!! It’s so-”

He realized how much he was ranting and immediately forced himself to stop. He stopped his arm as well. He was so annoying.

“I apologize. Sometimes I just run my mouth and I do these stupid motions”

Logan boped his nose “The only stupid thing about that is you assuming I wouldn’t want to hear you rant. Or see you....stim...? I literally flapped my hands 5 minutes ago. I do not judge”

Janus shrugged at the stim question “My mother did always say that my father has adhd but that was in an insulting way. When I have done research on adhd I relate to a lot of it but it’s not like I have a diagnosis or anything”

“Bitchass mother” Logan mumbled under his breathe “I do not have diagnosed autism either but I do still now I have it.....Besides....Not to brag but I have both a deegre in both psychology and medicine so I can basically diagnose myself anyway”

Jan was already too overwhlemed to ask how the hell he had had the time for 2 bachelors deegre only to end up at a library.

“Anyhow we don’t have to talk about psychology...now...............maybe one day though” Logan did a little robotic evil laugh “For now maybe you can infodump about that snake, then we can get a shared ice cream and then I can infodump about glorious star trek. How’s that for a plan?”

His crush took a deep breathe before nodding. He stood up and cupped the snake in his hands. “You want to go to the pond don’t you little guy? Want to hunt and murder a few fishes don’t you?”

He turned to Logan and shuly said a few more facts while they went to the pond. He patted the snake on it’s head before carefully setting it down among the plants at the water’s edge.

The friends sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the snake as it looked for prey. (Though Logan spent most of the time adoring Janus’).

When the snake caught a small fish and swallowed it whole Janus broke out in happy flaps. He let out a happy squeal while pointing at it. Logan nodded back at him. He mimicked his flapping.

He’d never seen Janus’ smile that brightly. Logan took his hand. Intertwining their fingers. They stimmed together until Lo pulled in his hand making his crush stumble into him.

Jan sat with his head leaned against his chest. He looked up at Logan with blushing red cheeks. He forced himself to move back even if he didn’t want to.

“Sorry”

“No need” The nerd assured.

He stood up and held out his hand to help Janus up. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands as they walked towards the ice cream shop.

“To piss off homophobes” Janus lied up the explanation while motioning for their hand holding.

“Of course”

They ordered a scoop of lemon ice cream and sat down by the tables outside. Janus had taken off his gloves. Their hands laid on top of each other.

“Do you also have that experience where” Logan stopped to take a bite of ice cream “You categorize your life into what you were hyperfixated on at the time? For example I remember that when I met Patty I was into Doctor Who and right before then I was enjoying Sherlock Holmes”

Janus shrugged. He didn’t want to say that he had a hard time even remembering most of his life clearly “I can see the Doctor influence” He nodded towards his tardis sweater.

Logan’s eyes lit up “Oh have you seen it??? The ninth and fifth doctors are my favorite! Though as a bi man I can not ignore David Tennants’ everything”

“I have seen exactly 0″

“Well that is not a problem that can not be fixed! When I met Patty she hadn’t either- maybe because we were 12- but I show-”

Janus choked on his ice cream “12? Oh wow. For some reason I had assumed you were older”

“Oh no. She moved towns and started in my class. It was almost love at first sight. I stole flowers from my neighbor and invited her to see the movie everyone in town was talking about....Kung fu panda”

He broke out into a laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me Janny! It was an incredibly tactical decision. You see I knew she liked animals and the kung fu panda is a panda”

Janus doubled over the table while continuing to laugh “Me throwing popcorn at myself during my first hangout almost seems cool in conparison”

“Popcorn is usually hot. Not cooled down” Logan corrected. “Though to be honest the start of our relationship was sort of what you can call a ‘mess’ since as you already know both of us were foolish enough to think Patty was a guy. So suddenly I had to come to terms with liking guys. Until she told me she was a girl. So then I was straight. Until I met Thomas but that is a whole different story. It was like some people say a rollercoaster”

“Am I rude for finding that funny?”

“Yes incredibly and frankly you should be dragged to the guillotines right now”

Janus leaned closer to him with a sly smile on his face “Aw ~darling~ I didn’t know you could be sassy”

Logan did his best to hide how the nearly choked on his own spit “Yes I can indeed be if I want to. Just like how I have been able to have adequate facial expressions and voice tones and also eye contact during our whole hangout. Normally I only have a lot of expressions and tones if I am talking about hyperfixations or my wife”

“You don’t have to do that around me”

“Really? It does take a lot of energy to try and appear ‘normal’ but I was afraid of coming across as rude”

“Darling I find you lovely either way” Janus was going to pour up the biggest glass of fucking wine when he got home. He was a flirting machine!

“Oh okay” Logan relaxed his shoulders and started looking at a point right next to his shoulder instead of at his eyes. “Want to hear about Star trek the next generation? It’s the one with Data in it”

Janus squeezed his hand “I definitely have a very good idea about who that person is. Yes please tell me”

Logan went on a very very long infodump which Janus happily listened to (and did his best to reply to even though he didn’t know much). He was sure he would never get tired of hearing him talk. The ice cream nearly melted because they were both too busy with what he had to say.

“-And that is why the poetry actually have significance” Logan concluded after nearly half an hour.

“Well that sure sounds like an interesting series”

“I can show you it? Soon? I have it all on dvd”

“It’s a date- I uh I mean like planned thing not like romantic I mean-” Janus babbled out.

“I am aware of what you meant” He checked his watch “It is probably a good time for me to depart. It’s my turn on laundry today. I will get to categorize socks!”

“Wow. Sounds like a party”

Logan excitedly nodded. He stood up. Janus did as well. They looked down at their still connected hands. Jan was about to let go and simply leave but to his surprise Logan pulled him into a hug.

He leaned down and moved his arms around Janus’ waist. In return Jan quickly stood up on his toes and buried his head into his love’s shoulder. He breathed in his scent. Coffee and strawberry jam. He closed his eyes, taking in the moment.

“Janus, You are so special to me” Logan murmured while holding onto him as hard as he could.

“I- I love- I love being around you” He whispered back. Too afraid to say the truth.

Logan tried to memorise the way it felt to have him this close before letting go and taking a step back “Well I will see you tomorrow then”

“Can’t wait!”

#loceit #mini fic #logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides

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v-vvia · 4 years

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some kevaaron for you hungry sluts

Aaron Minyard was going to become a doctor. There were no exceptions, deviations-this was a fact. He grew up what could possibly be considered Hell on Earth, and he wanted to live a normal life. Of course, as soon as he scribbled his messy signature onto David Wymack’s contact that basically sold his soul to the exy coach for five years, he should have known his life would be anything but normal. Aaron should have known when he was adopted by his very much homosexual cousin and reunited with his psycotic twin brother that his life would never be normal.

Kevin Day was going to be a professional exy star. He really had no other option, thanks to the Japanese yakuza. His life wasn’t normal and he knew it was never going to be normal. After leaving The Nest, Kevin had to learn how to be a member of society. He didn’t know how to make friends or be his own person. He didn’t know how to live. Being introduced to the Foxes was a big adjustment, but they accepted him and his crankiness. They were more of a family than he could ever ask for in life.

Aaron, after moving out of the monster’s dorm, would find his way back to the hell pit every so often. Living with Matt meant an endless supply of coffee to fuel his long nights of studying. Yet, there was something missing. Maybe it was Andrew’s cold stare as he drank milk straight from the carton. Maybe it was Nicky’s late night video chats with Erik, keeping them all up with his loud voice. Most of all, maybe it was Kevin’s constant need to be warm.

Aaron swore that dorm room was set at seventy-five degrees, even in the sweltering summer heat. He hated it after a long and hot practice but, now that Matt kept the windows open in the winter, he missed it.

Which is how he, at quarter to one in the morning on December 13th, found himself carrying his bag full of textbooks and a blanket pulled from his bed into the monster’s dorm. Andrew and Neil weren’t anywhere to be found but, Nicky and Kevin sat in the beanbag chairs in front of the TV. Nicky was losing his patience trying to teach Kevin how to play some video game. Kevin looked like he was about to burst a vein in his forehead. They both turned when the door opened.

“Well, if it isn’t my long lost son,” Nicky said happily with a grin.

“Not your son,” Aaron replied, used to this. “I don’t think you could produce a child this good looking.”

“Ouch! Savagely burned by my own flesh and blood!” Nicky dramatically placed a hand to his heart. He fell back against the beanbag. “After all I’ve done for you! I’ve washed your underwear and cum socks and this is the repayment I get? You’re lucky I don’t ground you, mister!”

“Do you know how to shut that mouth of yours?” Aaron practically collapsed onto the couch behind the two, letting out a sigh as he dropped his heavy bag.

“Do you know how to ever take a break?” Nicky retorted, looking back at the cousin with only a face that could be described as a motherly Latino ‘you did not just sass me, child’ face. “Seriously, dude. You’re up until ungodly hours of the night and then you get up at 6 to make it to morning practice. And aren’t you taking like, 18 credits? You sir,” Nicky pointed a finger. “are either a madman or stupid. Probably both if you’re my child.”

“You’re not a medicine major, Nicky. I’ve gotta work twice as hard as everyone else,” Aaron mumbled, shrugging. “Besides, why do you think I came here? Since when have I ever done any work in the presence of your loud mouth?”

“Good point. Want in on next round?” the cousin asked, offering him the third controller. Aaron shook his head. He let himself lean back into the couch and actually rest.

“I just came here to cool off for a few before I head to the library,” he said, pushing the controller away with his foot. His Addias joggers and his high top Chuck Taylors didn’t really go together but he wasn’t known to be the most fashionable. If it was comfortable and he could hide snacks in the pockets, he was sold.

“Suit yourself,” Nicky replied, turning back around. “Another round, Kev?” Kevin lifted his hand and checked the time on his watch.

“I placed some books on hold at the library earlier and they should be ready. I should go pick them up before I get carried away,” Kevin said, stretching his long limbs. His Foxes shirt lifted a little with the action; the small glimpse of bare skin caught Aaron’s eye. He couldn’t help but stare, not noticing that the man had said something to him.

“Earth to Aaron,” Nicky said, waving his hand in front of his face. “C’mon, I know Kevin’s insufferable sometimes but you gotta respect your elders.”

“Fuck you,” Aaron said before turning to Kevin. “What did you say?”

“I said we should go to the library together.” Kevin stood, walking over to his desk to grab his bookbag and dorm keys. “I know you’re practically flunking American history and we can’t have you being benched because you’re an idiot.”

“Okay, fuck you too,” Aaron said. His words had no weight because he stood with his bag. “Hurry up before I change my mind.” The two walked towards the door, saying a quick farewell to Nicky on their way out. Aaron was sure Nicky would be grateful to have a quiet dorm for a while, so he could call Erik. “I need to get my history stuff from my room if we’re doing this.” Kevin nodded and followed the shorter man to the other end of the hall. Aaron unlocked the door, knocking once in case Matt and Dan were practicing for their honeymoon. Stepping inside, he found that it was empty and dark. Matt had left the windows open, yet again, sending a shiver down Aaron’s spine.

“Its cold in here,” Kevin said, blank faced.

“Yeah, no shit dumbass.” Aaron walked over to his desk, flipping on a light along the way. The living area was decorated with a couch and television-both of which were Matt’s. Aaron didn’t care much to decorate. The only thing he needed and had was a picture of him, Nicky, and Andrew pinned on his desk. It was from his and Andrew’s high school graduation and he swore he could almost see a glimpse of genuine happiness in Andrew’s eyes.

“Can I ask a question?” Kevin said, poking around the room.

“You’re gonna ask anyways so get on with it.”

“Am I really that insufferable?” Something in Kevin’s voice made Aaron turn. He frowned once he saw Kevin’s usually cool demeanor turn unexpectedly serious. Kevin didn’t care what anyone thought about him. He only cared about exy. Why was this even a conversation the two were having?

“I mean,” Aaron started, not really sure how to approach this. “you’re annoying but I wouldn’t call you insufferable. What’s with you, man?”

Kevin stood silent for a moment. “Sometimes I hear Nicky telling Erik how mean I am.” Another moment of silence passed. “I don’t want to be like him, Aaron.”

Something inside Aaron’s stomach churned. Kevin didn’t have to say a name for him to know he was talking about his former teammate, Riko Moriyama. It had never occured to Aaron that Kevin had feelings about things over that exy. That was all he talked about and never once brought up emotions.

“You aren’t like him,” Aaron said. His voice was unexpectedly soft. “You’re never going to be like him.” Aaron dropped his bag onto his desk. “Sit down. We’ll get your stupid books later. You want some hot chocolate? That always cheers Andrew up.” Kevin sat himself down on the couch while Aaron crossed the room to make two cups of hot chocolate.

“Do you still think about your mom?” Kevin asked, his voice just as quiet as Aaron’s. “I still think about Riko all the time. I see him when I close my eyes. I can’t sleep hardly because hes...he’s always there. He’s there after eight hours waking me up to go to practice. He’s there counting my calories and picking my food. How do I live when he’s still with me?”

“I think about my mom a lot,” Aaron said, bringing over the hot cup. He handed it to Kevin before sitting down himself. “Not as much as I used to but yeah, I do.” Aaron wasn’t one to talk about this stuff. He liked burying it deep inside him and letting it spill out once a week during his session with Betsy. “Talking about it helped. As much as I absolutely hate Neil with my whole being, he was right. Pushing me towards Betsy was the only right thing he’s ever done. You should try it sometime.”

“I don’t talk to her,” Kevin admitted. “I don’t want her to think I’m crazy or something.”

“She talks to Andrew every week. I think you’ll be on the mild end of her patient spectrum.” Kevin let out a breathy laugh that sent Aaron’s stomach into a somersault.

“I guess you’re right,” Kevin said, looking over at the other. They both sat on either end of the couch, leaning back against the armrests to face each other. “Sorry...For dropping this all on you. You’re really the only one who might get it.”

Aaron waved a hand. “Yeah yeah, its whatever dude. Just drink your hot chocolate before I stop being nice and kick you out.” They both shared a laugh before going back to sitting in silence. Eventually, Aaron turned on a movie and they both just sat. They drank their drinks, keeping their eyes on the screen in front of them. Somehow, Aaron’s legs ended up up on the couch, his feet resting comfortably against Kevin’s thighs. Somehow, Kevin’s hand found itself rested on Aaron’s calf. Somehow, Kevin and Aaron ended up laying, side by side, buried underneath Aaron’s comforter. They slowly drifted to sleep, Kevin’s head on Aaron’s chest. Whatever they were watching was long forgotten in favor of each other’s presence. They weren’t worried about Matt walking in; they were far too sleep deprived to give any thought to it.

#kevaaron #all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #kevin day #aaron minyard #finally some good fucking food

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brittaperry · 3 years

Text

so it’s 2021 and I replayed tlou bc it’s totally not like there are other video games on my shelf that I haven’t finished or even started

originally this was going to be a thread on twitter but then I remembered that talking about anything tlou related over there seems like hell so I’m here instead.

this opening is still one of the best in video game history. like I’m still a mess watching Joel and Sarah fall. rip me (and also Sarah… and now Joel too, I guess).

should I make a tally every time I hear someone from CR? it’s been like ten minutes and I’ve heard 3 of them already.

why do I feel like I know more about the minor characters and their relationships with the main characters in this game than I do about the ones in TLOU2?

Joel is probably canonically stealthy because 1) survivor, and 2) limited supplies, and I like playing stealthy but I am not always good at stealthy.

Ellie pulling a knife on Joel immediately because she thinks he’s hurt Marlene? That’s how you introduce a character.

the women in this game are just so good. like not morally in some cases, but in terms of writing and development.

missing collectibles when I'm trying to collect them all and finally get the trophy makes me scream. no one look at me.

Ellie's excitement over being outside? I am EMOTIONAL.

"Why the hell are we smuggling an infected girl?" that is what they call a wham line.

it started raining here while it was raining in the game. the universe said “let’s really immerse you this time”.

sorry to all the NPCs I travel with but if I don’t search every corner of a place and grab all of the loot, I won’t be able to think about anything else for the next 6+ hours. (flashback to FO4 because yes, I do really need all of this junk, because apparently I’m the only one building the settlements).

I’m not going to talk about how much I hate that bit in the Outskirts when Joel drops down on to the floor with the 4 runners and 1 clicker, but I need you to know how much I hate that bit in the Outskirts when Joel drops down on to the floor with the 4 runners and 1 clicker.

"You got something on your shoe" Ellie is a comedy queen.

the NPCs are useless sometimes. Bill’s just casually walking around while Joel and Ellie run from the bloater.

EXCUSE ME BUT I AM VERY EMOTIONAL ABOUT JOEL AND ELLIE AND HOW MUCH THEIR FRIENDSHIP/SURROGATE FAMILIAL RELATIONSHIP HAS DEVELOPED BETWEEN BOSTON AND PITTSBURGH. YOU CAN REALLY SEE THAT THEY’RE STARTING TO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER AND I WANT TO CRY.

I missed one of Ellie’s jokes... I’m so disappointed in myself.

I hate the hotel basement part. I hate the hotel basement part. I hate the hotel basement part. I hate the hot--

the fact that you meet and then lose Sam and Henry in the space of a few days still devastates me.

they buried Sam and Henry, and that makes me happy (even though I’m still devastated they’re gone) because they had to just leave Tess where she was, so it’s beautiful that they were able to say goodbye and that those two characters could be laid to rest.

remember when Tommy wasn't an asshole.

no, you're crying over Joel and Ellie.

JOEL TEACHING ELLIE ABOUT FOOTBALL. I JUST!!!!!

I hate when games are like "HINT" because you're taking your time and you want to explore the world they created like, chill.

when Joel falls onto the rebar and the sound gets muffled, echo-y, and goes in and out? how it gets harder to control him? how certain parts of the screen blur? how the screen starts to fade in and out as you're walking because Joel's losing consciousness? A+++ choices. who else is doing it like them?

it's interesting how the first time you play as Ellie in TLOU and the first time you play as Abby in TLOU2 it's winter.

why does Naughty Dog hate horses?

Ellie is one of the greatest video game characters. if you think otherwise, I'm sorry but you're wrong.

why did I think you had bottles and bricks you could throw at David?

AGAIN, ELLIE IS ONE OF THE GREATEST VIDEO GAME CHARACTERS.

AGAIN, JOEL AND ELLIE MEAN THE WORLD TO ME.

THE GIRAFFE. MY HEART.

WHEN JOEL PULLS ELLIE OUT OF THE WATER AND SHE'S NOT BREATHING AND THE FIREFLIES ARE JUST ASSHOLES AND KNOCK JOEL OUT. LIKE NO, I STILL HATE THE FIREFLIES. I get that it’s the apocalypse but you see a guy who’s trying to resuscitate someone who could be his daughter and you’re like “let’s knock him out”?

here's the thing, and I'll go into this more when I play part 2, the fact that they're going to kill Ellie for the cure and they don't even tell her??? Like, Ellie would say yes to it, but they don't ask and I hate them. ALSO, just because they say they can make a cure, there's no promises. AND ALSO, HOW IS IT THAT THERE'S ONLY ONE MAN WHO CAN MAKE THE CURE? okay, that's more of a complaint for the second game, but yeah, HOW IS IT THAT A GUY NAMED JERRY IS THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN CREATE A CURE? IN TLOU2, WE FIND OUT HE HAD AT LEAST ONE STUDENT (MEL) SO DID HE JUST NOT TELL ANYONE ELSE HOW TO CREATE A CURE BECAUSE HE WANTED TO FEEL SPECIAL? LIKE HE'S NOT THE ONLY SCIENTIST LEFT IN THE WORLD. LIKE THERE ARE TWO OTHER DOCTORS/ASSISTANTS WITH HIM IN THE SURGERY. okay, this is not TLOU related, this is TLOU2, but yeah, I'm still mad about it.

also, the whole giving NPCs names thing is in TLOU and other NPCs will say things like "this is for my friends" so unless this is an update and wasn't in the original (cbf to play on ps3) why was it such a big deal in TLOU2? like when you're in the hospital, the Fireflies call one of the NPCs Ethan.

just realised I missed ONE Firefly pendant. I hate everything.

back to what I was saying before, Marlene says "you can still do the right thing", which implies that the cure can still be made but like, she'd have to assume that Joel did kill Jerry to get to Ellie and she still says that so like, were there other people who could've made the cure?

did Joel do the right thing? no. would I have done exactly the same thing? yes.

THIS GAME IS STILL ONE OF THE BEST VIDEO GAMES/EXPERIENCES.

I didn’t take many screenshots, but here is probably the worst encounter I’ve had during this fight.

Also, that looks like the most useless bladed melee weapon. Like, Joel just made it for the aesthetic, right?

Anyway, on to Left Behind.

#ashley plays a video game #I have a lot of love for this game and I don't think I can actually express it properly

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paradise-creator · 3 years

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OwO when u have time,, can I have a haven box for BNHA?? But just when you’re free and not working on prior works!! >:( I’m watching u bish

You can use my name in the result if you want to lol I already know it anyway!!

She/her, Taurus, INTJ, slytherin (pretty freakin’ queer but I usually lean towards boys/enbies more)

Personality: the first thing people notice about me is that I am less of a feeler and more of a thinker. I do have an IQ of 125, but my emotional intelligence is quite low, so I have trouble sympathizing with others. But I learned through experience, so I don’t SEEM emotionless. I can (and will) help my friends through tough times if they need me. I’m pragmatic, so I always go for the facts instead of the feelings during decision making or tough situations. I hold a lot of perfectionist traits that make it really hard for me to be satisfied with my results if they aren’t higher than the norm. I also have a slight issue with saying no, so sometimes I’ll offer my help or enrol myself in long-term projects while knowing I legit do not have time for more stuff on my schedule. Being a bit smarter than average, I sometimes feel like I’m obligated to help others so that they can do good too (however, I do like helping people with their hw to a certain extent). I’m working on those issues though!! I’m also an introvert, and I can get rlly tired if I have to be interacting for more than four hours straight with people, especially if their persona isn’t rlly compatible with mine.

However, when I’m surrounded by friends (or generally people who aren’t my superiors), I’m very energetic, loud, silly and I have a sharp tongue. I’m also insanely competitive, like someone please stop me?? My sense of humour goes from absolute nonsense to almost mean spirited sarcasm, but it all depends on who I’m talking to. I’m a MAJOR memer, I have a bunch of files filled with them, and I couldn’t bear be with people who didn’t understand my meme references. When I start liking something, I can get easily obsessed. I’m stubborn, therefore very passionate about the things I care about. I also have a slight case of the Endorphin Junkie, meaning that I really, really like the high you get after sports so I do crossfit training like five to six times a week. I’m unapologetically myself, and I will not ever change who I am to fit within the norm. I’m sometimes told that (that I’m odd, I mean), but I usually thank the people who tell me. I have a really, really big love for music and I have a tendency to break into song sometimes when people say a line from a song I know. I also cry sometimes when music gets really good ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ whoops

Appearance: I’m around 5’6”, with hazel eyes and brown hair that goes around to my shoulders. It gets curly out of nowhere. I can either wake up with straight hair or wake up with a freakin perm, it’s funny. My body isn’t exactly the lean type, I’m somewhere around the buff area of the scale instead, but as long as I seem visibly strong, I’m satisfied. When I’m not going anywhere significant, I usually just wear sport shirts and sweats, but I have a penchant for Dark Academia so I like /looking/ like I’m smart sometimes. And I have glasses bc apparently my eyes are assholes and they work too hard and it hurts my brain all the time

Likes: music (DavidBowieDavidBowieDavidBow-); I have a really wide range of music that goes from early 2000’s pop to 1700’s requiems(my faves are Bowie, Queen and Pink Floyd). I enjoy studying theoretical fields, reading, and I like talking about Absurd Theories About Reality That Make Little To No Sense. I like sports, and I love joking around with friends in the most exaggerated ways. I also love the colour green and I’m more of a cat person

Dislikes: dogs (they’re cute but keep them away pls), ignorant people, irresponsible people, spiders, things I’m not good at from the beginning, having to deal with strangers being upset, crying (me. I don’t like crying; I mean me, I’m fine if my friends cry)

Other fun facts!!

- my goals for the future are all over the place; I want to work for Disney, I want to get a musical composition degree, I want a biomedical engineering bachelors degree, I want an astrophysics doctorate, I want to study languages, I want to be a foreign English teacher... I can’t ever decide.

- I have a long history with getting crushes on guys who turned out to be gay. It happens so often and I HATE IT, it makes me feel terrible.

- I!!love!!70’s!!music!!so!!much!! I was raised on that stuff, my dad wouldn’t let us listen to anything else

- Lol my favourite playlist name is Drugs Playlist But I Don’t Even Do Drugs it’s just a bunch of Pink Floyd and David Bowie songs

- My favourite movies are 80’s or 90’s comedy classics!! Like Wayne’s World, or Airplane!, or Night at the Roxbury. I keep quoting Wayne’s World and no one understands :(

↬ ──:.⃗➹ +.*༉‧ᵕ̈°`*↷. ೃ₊✎⸙͎˚- ̗̀✧: ──↫

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┊ ┊ ☪︎⋆ ⋆✩

┊ ⊹ ┊ ⋆｡˚. ੈ

✯ ⋆ ┊ . ˚ ⊹

˚ ✩

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ɴᴏᴡ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ

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*ﾟﾟ･ ✧.｡. *. •.°

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Hello and Welcome my Starlight!

The Haven box includes:

- Match up

- Sun drop

- Flashes of memory

- Truth or dare gone wrong

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

I'd match you up with

Sero Hanata, Cellophane

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Sun drops

The reasons I paired you

- It me awhile to think about who to match you up with

- I was thinking of either Bakugou or Denki

- BUT THEN I REMEMBERED SERO

- Sero is such an underrated character smh

- BUT THIS DYNAMIC IS WHAT I LIVE FOR

-At first, you might be annoyed at his lack of knowledge but you over past that

- His EQ can help you grow as a person as well

- You have the IQ he has the EQ, BALANCE!

- You two would often have laughing sessions at class

- No cap tho, you two would be the most interesting couple

- You guys would have a matching necklace or a Keychain (IDK why but I feel like it-)

- You get along well with Denki, (IT TOOK A LONG TIME)

- But you would rather hang out with Bakugou (He tolerates you more than the others).

- BRO, please give him love. He craves your attention

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Flashes of memories

Sero: Hello there hot stuff!

Eve: Hello there Soy sauce

Sero: NOT YOU TOO

Eve: Just kidding, Hello babe

Sero: ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

Eve: Yes, killing you with love

Sero: Dang that's smooth

-------------------------

Sero: He-

Eve: I didn't take your Pocky, Denki did

Sero: How-

Eve: You've been yelling about it for the past few minutes

Sero: Oh-

-------------------------

Sero: Can you help me with studying?

Eve: Struggling again?

Sero: Yes...

Eve: Why did I date you again?

Sero: Please?

Eve: ...

Also Eve: Fine

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Truth or dare gone wrong

The class 1-A were all gathered in their common room, even Bakugou was present. The class was having a truth or dare session, it seemed interesting. “Sero, my man! Truth or dare?” Denki asked as he looked at Sero. “Truth! I choose truth,” Sero said. “Who have you been talking on the phone to this past weeks? The one I keep hearing is my pumpkin?” Denki asked. Sero’s face then turned a light shade of pink. “O-Oh- ummm,” He started as he looked away. “Does our Cellophane have a girlfriend?” Mina teased as she poked Sero. “Y-Yeah,” He stuttered. “OI THAT’S NOT FAIR?!? WHY CAN YOU HAVE A GIRL BUT I CAN’T,” Denki sulked as he placed his head on the table. “If you weren’t such a perv then maybe you can get one!” Hakagure responded.

“Don’t be shy. Tell us more,” Mina said. Sero’s blush darkened and he looked away. “We are playing truth or dare! It’s my turn to ask,” Sero then said. “Actually, I am quite curious as well. We can always continue later,” Momo said as she smiled. Everyone agreed and they then looked at the nervous male. “C’mon now guys, this is unfair,” Sero said as he looked at everyone. “But you have a girl and we want tea,” Mina then said as she sat in front of him. “I- um, you guys really want to know about her, huh?” Sero said as he chuckled. Everyone nodded and stared at Sero intently. “Just tell us already, Soy sauce,” Bakugou growled as he glared at Sero. “Don’t listen to him, bro. He is just jealous,” Kirishima said. “WHAT-“ Bakugou was about to counter but was silenced. “Fine! Fine! You got me in a corner,” Sero then said as he chuckled. “She should be coming here,” He added as he looked at the door. “Three, two, one,” He then said as he pointed to the door.

“Hello, is Sero Hanta here?”A feminine voice said. “ARE YOU A PSYCHIC?” Denki said as he looked surprised. “I’m right here pumpkin!” Sero then said as he smirked. His nervousness melted away as he saw the 5’6ft girl. It was his girlfriend, Eve, and he was overjoyed. “Hey there babe!” She then said as she smiled. “DANG YOU GOT A FINE LADY!” Denki then yelled as he checked her out. “Keep your eyes above for I’ll gorge them out,” Eve then said as she glared at Denki. Soon enough, Mineta tried to touch her as well but his efforts were at vain. Sero used his tape as to stop Mineta from getting closer. And Eve kicked him away, far away from her. “Get your filthy hands away from her,” Sero said as he stood up. He then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Woah, that was so manly!” Kirishima said as he smiled.

“GIRLS! GET HER-“ Mina said as she tackled the girl. They didn’t fall down but Mina was laughing and hugging her. “Girl! How long have you been together?” Mina asked as she pulled away. Eve was a bit uncomfortable but she merely had a stoic face. “A few weeks,” She responded bluntly. And soon enough, the truth or dare session was forgotten. It was replace with the class 1-A trying to pry out the tea from the couple. Did they succeed? No, not really. Though the class seemed to love Eve and her antics. The class even tried to make them forget about the date they have planned. But either way, Sero and Eve got manage to get away to have their small movie date at his room.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Author's note

Hai bb! I'm sorry it took so long. But thanks for requesting again~

#☁️matchup #fanfic #fiction #anime #bnha imagines #bnha matchup #bnha sero #hanta sero #mha sero #mha

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

Note

I hoped you would reblog that! :3 A fic after Aizen arc, where Ichigo DOES NOT lose his powers, and seireitei is in full party mode. Someone asks where Rukia is. Renji's like "she went to get snacks". and Orihime, tipsy as hell, just blurts out "Of course you know where she is! You're so cute together!!" and everyone is either like "yeah true" or "WAIT SINCE WHEN?". aka the dorks get peer pressured into realizing they should date already By Everyone. Feat. Women's Society paparazzi.

Hey, so you know how always spend a ton of time on my really long fics and don’t post them until I’m all the way done so that I can make everything internally consistent, etc, etc? What would it look like, as your therapist would say, if I just wrote some nonsense and posted it? And if I feel like writing more chapters later, maybe I will? To post something with a 1/? Also, what if was Canon, Never Heard of Her? and also full of things that do absolutely do not belong in Soul Society (like potato salad?) What would that look like?

Anyway, here you go @unohanadaydreams. I’m sorry it took me so long to do this and also I also messed up your prompt a bunch (I figure that everyone knows how bad Renji has it for Rukia and wouldn’t rag him about it, so I switched ‘em), but I think I captured the spirit of it, along with the spirit of that filler episode where everyone makes movies.

Enough! Enough intro! Here it is!

Heroes of the Hueco Mundo Invasion – In Love!!

“HELLLLLLOOOOOOOOO, SQUAD 10!” Inoue Orihime yodeled, flinging herself into the courtyard, where a barbeque of epic proportions was gearing up.

“Orihime!” Matsumoto screamed.

“YO!” Kurosaki Ichigo announced, stumbling in behind her, arms raised victoriously. “What has two thumbs and just saved Soul Society?”

“This guy!” Orihime squealed, trying to point her thumbs at Ichigo as he also tried to point his thumbs at himself.

Ichigo squinted at the hands waving around his general vicinity. “How many thumbs do I have? Hey, hey, Ishida?! Did I grow any extra arms while I was fighting Aizen?”

Sado Yasutora suddenly plunged through the gate behind them panting and out of breath.

“Are you two drunk?” Captain Hitsugaya demanded.

“My new best friend Captain Doctor Unohana Retsu gave me the good stuff, because I am the Hero of Three Worlds, possibly Four,” Ichigo explained.

“Painkillers,” Chad gasped. “He’s on a very high dose of painkillers. It’s…okay… I'm… keeping an eye on him. He’s still really fast, though.”

“What about Orihime?” Rukia demanded, from where she was trying to sculpt a bowl of potato salad into a diorama of herself defeating Rudabone. Or possibly Chappy. “She wasn’t even hurt.”

“She was very nervous about Kurosaki,” Uryuu explained, sauntering up next to Chad. “So Lieutenant Kotetsu gave her some of Captain Unohana’s home-brewed ginger beer, which was… allegedly non-alcoholic?”

“I feel so powerful right now!” Orihime chimed in. “Like my body is filled with thousands of dubstepping bees!”

“I literally cannot feel any part of my body, right now,” Ichigo chipped in, “but at least I didn’t lose my Soul Reaper powers while performing the Final Getsuga, like some sort of contrived plot hook.”

“Why is it called the Final Getsuga, then?” Orihime asked.

“Beats me!” Ichigo hooted.

“It’s because Europe had just released ‘The Final Countdown’ when I invented it, and that song slaps!” Isshin shouted from somewhere near the kegs.

“DAD!” Ichigo shouted. “Dad, I have something to tell you! Also, Rukia, you are like my other dad, if I had two dads!”

“I am not,” Rukia protested.

“Maybe Byakuya is like my other dad, then, which would make you my sister.”

“I am definitely not,” Byakuya protested. (Did you, gentle reader, think that Byakuya would not attend one of Squad 10’s infamous keggers on the occasion of Aizen’s defeat? You were incorrect. Byakuya is a great fan of Matsumoto’s guac.)

“Listen, Dads,” Ichigo insisted. “I defeated Aizen and I think that definitely means I should get to borrow the car on Saturday, but also, Orihime proposed to me and I said yes , we are now engaged to go to the movies the next weekend that we are back home. Which is why I need the car, you see.”

Orihime dabbed.

“My precious son, I am so proud of you!” Isshin announced, throwing his arms wide. “But you can take the bus to the movies like a normal teenager.”

“Way to go, Orihime!” Rukia congratulated, abandoning her potato salad to perform an elaborate handshake/high-five routine with Orihime.

“This is so exciiiiitiiiiiing!” Matsumoto wailed.

Ise Nanao sidled up to Kusajishi Yachiru. “Madam President,” the Vice-President of the Shinigami Women’s Association intoned gravely. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

Hisagi Shuuhei sidled up to the other side of Kusajishi Yachiru. “Are you thinking about a special Seireitei Bulletin feature, presented in cooperation with the Shinigami Women’s Association–”

“–'Heroes of the Hueco Mundo Invasion – In Love!!’” Nanao and Hisagi chorused in unison.

Yachiru blinked. To be honest, she had mostly been thinking about the red bean dumplings she knew Captain Hitsugaya had hidden somewhere earlier, and had not been paying much attention to any of the goings-on up until this point. This may seem to stretch belief, but you have to understand, gentle reader, that this amount of shouting represented a pretty typical day at Squad 11.

Yachiru bounded up to the former ryouka. “Hey, Pencil!” she demanded. “Are you and Muscles dating?”

“Chad!” Ichigo yelped, grabbing at his own hair. “You sneaky person!”

“Uryuu!” Orihime gawped, clapping her hands over her cheeks. “You sly dog!”

“No,” Uryuu corrected stiffly.

“You are mistaken,” Chad added.

“He’s way out of my league,” they said at the same time.

There was a long silence.

Uryuu looked up at Chad out of the corner of his eye.

Chad looked down at Uryuu out of the corner of his eye.

Ichigo was making tiny, excited claps.

Orihime was bouncing.

“Doooooo iiiiiiiiittttttt,” Captain Kyouraku said out of the side of his mouth, pretending like nobody could tell it was him. Everybody could tell it was him.

Rukia straightened up to her full height. “Do it, you dorkuses. The Women’s Association will pay for it. If these two dummies can get their act together, you haven’t got any excuse.” She glanced over at Ichigo and Orihime, who were gazing longingly at one another, and promptly did a horrified double take.

“Errr…” Uryuu waffled.

“I understand if you’re uncomfortable participating in a Soul Society-related activity,” Chad offered an easy way out.

Uryuu opened his mouth, looked at Chad, and closed it again slowly. “I’ll take their money and waste it frivolously. That is within my moral code.”

“YAYYYYY!” Orihime squealed. “Triple date! Can I be an honorary member of the Shinigami Women’s Association?”

“What do you mean, 'triple date’?” Rukia tried to interrupt.

“Yes,” Nanao proclaimed. “But it will be three separate dates, covered as a three-part series.”

“In the World of the Living,” Shuuhei broke in. “The readers are crazy-go-nuts for the World of the Living.”

“Who is the third couple?” Rukia pressed.

“Genius,” Nanao threw a finger gun at Shuuhei. “Matsumoto, you’ll do host segments? Pre- and post-date interviews and such?”

“Give me a clothing budget and you’ve got a deal” Matsumoto agreed.

“WHO! IS! THE! THIRD! COUPLE?!” Rukia demanded.

“You and Renji, obviously,” Orihime replied. “You two are sooooo cute together! I bet your readers would love that, wouldn’t they, Lieutenant Hisagi? If Rukia and Renji went on a date in the World of the Living? Rukia’s like a princess or something here, right?”

“They will go apeshit , Hisagi replied breathlessly. "You have to understand that Abarai is actual very well-known among the Bulletin readership for his incredibly popular column, 'Let’s Do Shikai!!’ This is essentially the Soul Society equivalent of David Beckham marrying Posh Spice.”

“I…. don’t know who that is,” Rukia stammered.

“How do you know who those people are?” Uryuu asked, perplexed.

“I read Living World newspapers,” Hisagi excused with a shrug.

“Rukia, do you have something to tell me?” Byakuya frowned.

“No!” Rukia yelped. “I’m not dating Renji! I have no interest in going on a date with Renji, even though he consistently moves Heaven and Earth for me and we have really similar taste in craft beers and he’s objectively, like, smoking hot. I refuse to go on a date with Renji. Don’t ask me any more questions.”

“Where is Renji, anyway?” Ichigo frowned. “I don’t hear him shouting, so he must not be here.”

“He went to go pick up a bunch of snacks for Matsumoto because he’s a sucker and I’m sure he stopped off to trade out his sunglasses for polarized ones because he says they’re better for late afternoon glare,” Rukia excused very quickly.

“Rukia,” Ichigo noted, suddenly sounding a lot more sober. “Listen to yourself.”

“Soooooooo cuuuuuuuuuuuute!” Orihime repeated, exaggerating her lip movements.

“She’s not wrong,” Uryuu pointed out.

Chad did Big Shrug Arms and nodded in agreement.

At this moment, the man in question strode into the courtyard, carrying several grocery bags and wearing a pair of polarized sunnies. “Hey, party people!” Renji greeted cheerfully, somehow managing to hold four overstuffed grocery bags in one arm while he fished something out of one of them. “Why’s everyone so quiet?”

“Hey, Abarai, will you do me a big favor?” Hisagi asked innocently.

“Yeah, sure,” Renji agreed. He found whatever he was looking for. “Oi, Ruki-Ruki,” he called, tossing a small paper packet to Rukia. “They had those melon-flavored gummy salamanders you like when you get hammered.”

Rukia caught them easily, her cheeks flaming red.

“'Ruki-Ruki’?” Ichigo mouthed to her, making the most judgemental face he could manage under the influence of Unohana’s Special Sauce.

“So, what’s can I do you for, Shuuhei?” Renji asked, trying to find an empty spot to deposit his bags.

Shuuhei told him.

“Oh,” said Renji. He looked over at Rukia, who managed an awkward, sheepish half-smile as she clutched her candies. “Well, shit.”

#renruki #asks #fanfic prompts #i am between medications right now and my brain has the zoomies #should i post this on ao3? i dunno #i am sure i will regret this later #i love you unohanadaydreams u r the best #my writing

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dayna-scully · 5 years

Text

ncis s4 lb

4x01

you can’t ever convince me ziva and tony weren’t sleeping together between s3 and 4

worried boyfriend tony

I was hoping maybe save me

she needs her dad kill me

we love you too 😭

she got dad to come home

he’s supposed to be dead/apparently he’s gotten better

they were 10000% fucking lets 👏 be 👏 real 👏

“when I need to be” quick question: what the fuck

skinny summer mcgoo

they use the same safe house over and over again

why wasn’t I with ziva?

she’s scared, not that she’ll ever admit that

4x02

I wonder how different the show would have been if they’d always written tony and Abby as being mature and serious the majority of the time - the childishness gets really really annoying, and there’s such a change in quality when they are more mature

dad’s home!!!

4x03

uuuuuUUUUGH I forgot how early Tony’s undercover stuff started

now that gibbs is back there’s so much tension between z/t

perhaps because z is jealous of the “mystery girlfriend”

tfw you’ve already got a girlfriend but you’re still checking out your totally platonic professional work partner’s ass

ziva is definitely a daddy’s girl in a way that Abby isn’t, Abby’s sugar sweet and spoiled, but ziva is the one that really needs the emotional support

I wonder if ziva ever actually thought about having kids with tony before tali

I wonder if tony thought about it too

has anyone ever told you you’re attractive/my brother 😂

you’re a geek, not mentally deranged

crime!!

4x04

Timothy Jimothy McGee

4x05

uhoh Tony’s worst nightmare

personally I prefer a good shag 👀

I think it’s good to keep in mind throughout all episodes that tony and ziva have already seen each other entirely buck-ass naked

I’m not blowing on you again

again: what the fuck

totally normal

👀

now is not Paris

why do you wanna look at a dead guy’s junk Anthony

4x06

I don’t totally understand ziva’s derision of Halloween, they do have Purim in Israel (and in Jewish communities in general) it might not be as dark and spooky as American Halloween but still

maybe it’s different in the states but amber alerts are only when they know the kid’s been abducted

I mean now they do know she was abducted but that was AFTER

according to someone called Scuttle Butt

so tony and ziva are watching movies together outside of work 🤔

4x07

UGH jeanne

zeevah! Zeevah!!

this has to be the stupidest thing anyone’s ever done/then why are you following me/I don’t fricking know (it’s cause you love her you doof)

i can see down your shirt right now/I don’t think your new girlfriend would like that/what are you talking about i don’t know what you’re talking about/I’m talking about you and the fact that you no longer stare at every woman when they pass you by

so 1) tony is not as good at hiding this undercover assignment as he thinks he is, 2) ziva observes him enough to notice that his behaviour has changed and 3) ziva is the only one he is STILL checking out

not worth dying over

I’ll remember that

my son, tony (!!!!!!!!)

gibbs was unfortunate(?) enough to be stuck with the most loyal set of ducklings

4x08

the only thing I DO like about the jeanne/la grenouille plot is jealous ziva

this cannot be admissible in court even with proper chain of evidence

totally platonic to be touching the entire side of your work partner’s body with your own tony would definitely sit that close to McGee by choice right it’s not just ziva

lee looks like a ballerina

sometimes they really go hard with the imperialistic propaganda

4x09

nepotism: both Sean and Troian getting jobs on ncis

MySpace im….okay

Jenny’s only here for the hot goss

see I don’t think Jenny realizes he’s talking about jeanne, I almost wonder if she thinks he’s talking about ziva

4x10

McGee thinks ziva’s in love with me (she is)

dad and grandpa are fighting and the kiddies don’t like it

pimmy jalmer

🎶sexually frustrated “platonic” partners🎶

you two done playing grab ass

you described everything in my bedroom (why weren’t they endgame?)

I do feel bad for tony. He was definitely put in a bad situation where he was taken advantage of (by NCIS/the director) without anyone to confide in, and of course it ended really, really badly

how can ziva even tell but anyways of course she’s jealous

the usual/the usual what - oof. That expression hurts. Poor ziva

you got that moustache in a box, don’t you

4x11

sexual harassment training

LICKING YOUR COWORKER’S FACE IS TOTALLY APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOUR ZIVA DAVID

why are you touching dead naked people?

I suppose at this point the viewers didn’t know that jeanne had anything to do with the undercover stuff tony was doing

ziva is concerned about her boooyfrieeend-seriously though

what part of inappropriate touching don’t you understand

romantic or not, ziva seriously gives several shits about tony and his well-being

dadman to the rescue

did Jenny…also not know????

ziva is so, so concerned ugh bb

4x12

I don’t know what my moas would be

unreservedly romantic tony

ahh, you two got married and didn’t tell me

I think it’s scary!

oh ziva.

why does ziva being so concerned make gibbs so uncomfortable 🤔👀

your other phone is never on silent

IT LITERALLY DID NOT OCCUR TO ZIVA DAVID, INTERNATIONAL INTELLIGENCE AGENT, THAT TONY COULD HAVE A GIRLFRIEND

LOOK AT THAT FACE

HOMEGIRL’S WORLD JUST GOT FLIPPED UPSIDE DOWN

oh z

so the pictures that mossad had at the beginning of the season of z/t - could those have been from the agents watching tony and jeanne now?

4x13

when your wife and your girlfriend are in the same room

sounds like you have something up your wazoo

when your boyfriend has two super intense daughters who could both kill your painfully and without evidence

ooh petulant ziva

I’m certain that they used the same hall for jeanne and Tim’s apartments

“it’s important to appreciate the competition” EXCUSE ME TONY the competition for WHO??? Ziva??????

what the FUCK tony

those two are unusually motivated to find sharif 👀

4x14

what’s a little state sanctioned kidnapping between friends, eh?

mark harmon was on st elsewhere, wasn’t he?

maybe now gibbs gets why ziva’s so concerned

z is so pretty in this episode

4x15

so Tony’s so in love with jeanne that he doesn’t notice ziva dancing provocatively in front of him, but not so in love with jeanne that he’ll get in between ziva and someone who’s attracted to her

he’s also a ziva-to-English translator

oh tony

Dead Man Walking

oh dear poor z

you didn’t make her promise not to destroy it, mcgee

brain training to figure out how ziva knows the dude

aquasmurf

meetcute

so does my spleen

we finish each other’s-sandwiches

her technique 👀

falling in love with a dying man is a fantastic idea z

(Professional follow-up)

oh z

red light behaviour!!!!!

the look on your face says you are

what’s that look on your face

gee tony if you’re so in love with jeanne why are you also so in love with ziva

are you okay?

good guy tony

4x17

I’m pretty sure that mausoleum exploded in Bones too

so. over. abby.

why do they just shit on ziva all the time on this stupid show, everyone she loves dies

when you break up with your girlfriend but she’s still jealous of your wifee 😬

4x18

she’s wearing Roy’s hat 😖

oof, boy’s got a face like a brick house

I don’t want to see you naked, either tony

cold elbow

or maybe you said something when you should have said something

I’m so not interested in this melodrama 🙄

not good?

4x19

oh tony

4x20

ziva is totally unimpressed by these shenanigans

uncomfortably reflecting upon McGee’s book and ziva looks like she’s about to cry 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍

campfire!

4x21

all these investigators and none of them can figure out that it’s kort

4x22

jeanne, on a fishing expedition and tony, regretting his response

ziva, studiously avoiding tony’s face while tony processes his regrets

bad news from the, um, dentist? / something like that OOPS TONY OOPS

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

she looks so hurt, ouuuch

she must realise how much in love she is with tony, even after roy

A GIRL LINGERS

long enough

tony/zeevah

that was...astonishingly cruel

like I can’t even comprehend

“it’s because you’re a good person” YOU DON’T DESERVE HER DINOZZO

you fuck

he’s right/he is?/i am?

4x23

noooooooooo

yeeeeeeeeees

buying a house is a loooooot

“Tony’s never vulnerable” maybe not around you, jeanne 👀

ha! I’m a normal man! I hate my wife!

I don’t know if I’m getting this ziva outfit mixed up with the one in bury your dead or if Something actually happens in this episode

something happens in this episode

so you’ll help me?

rip my little bi heart, she loves him

love you too, jeanne

poor z

4x24

I think sometimes she pretends not to know movies just to hear tony talk about them

OH NO THE BAR

to dry eyed mice

i have seen this episode an unhealthy number of times

I have a funny feeling, doctor

straight to voicemail, just like always when he’s with her

oooh z

tony?/what?!

why do you monitor tony?/i don’t monitor tony/oh yes you do, like a mother with a toddler

or a woman with a wayward lover

so if he’s profiling you, z, that means...there’s some truth to it?

tony is with his girlfriend, and you are worried about him

he is my partner, and my partner said he would be here and...and I have this not so good feeling

cut tooooooo a gun

aaaaand now to bury your dead.......

#tiva #ncis #liveblog #show: ncis #ship: tiva

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maryellenjunior · 5 years

Text

A dream

„Not a car, yet?“

I turn my head. The soldier from 2 days ago, sits down next to me. A sad smile on his thin lips.

„Cigarette?“

„Yeah, thanks.“

We smoke in silence. My head hammers. I've drunk too much the last two days.

„I can drive you.“

„You live there?“

He shakes his head.

„No, but I see that you want to get there and you don't like trains and you need a car and I'm going to drive home, to Minsk.“

I take another shot.

„How do you know I don't like trains?“

His brown eyes regard me knowingly.

„None of us will ever enter a fucking train again, I guess.“

I lookt at him carefully.

„I guess you're right.“

_______________________________________

„When we first arrived in Budapest, in this empty apartment, we didn't talk for good three days. We'd just slept, lay down next to each other, embracing the other like our fucking life depended on it. We'd been so tired. I had been so tired, I think, never, ever after that I had felt so empty, dull, just done with everything. But it had gotten better. We had had each other. And out of this pit, this fucking pit of horror, we had pulled each other out of it. And so we had tried to live.“

„And then?“

I shrug, take a drag, look out the window.

„And then...,“ I look at the soldier.

„He went off and never returned.“ His face doesn't flinch.

„So you're looking for a guy who left you, a guy who is either dead or even if he's alive, what if he actually fucking abandoned you? Did you never think about that.“

I ash into the wind.

„No,“ my voice is raspy from the smoke, „no....I know he would not abandon me.“

„Why did he leave anyway?“

„I was sick with a fever and he wanted to get a doctor, something, anything.“

„Fuck,“

Now there's silence. I appreciate it. The wind is harsh, gets colder the further we drive. I'm not nervous though I should be, but my mind wanders off and I feel empty and that's okay, it's quiet peaceful actually. The leaves have fallen and every tree looks dead, or broken somehow, naked, like a puppet without a dress. The trees get more, the people less. And after a while there's nothing but deep woods, without any trace of civilization.

„It's fucking weird, I think you know more about my life, than a man I already lived with almost ten years and fuck, I don't even know your name.“

His brown eyes smile at me.

„There's not much to tell,“ he chuckles. „My name is Jakob, everyone I loved besides my sister is dead, and now I am a Jew taking care of Germans.“

And out of nowhere, I say.

„Come home.“

„What?“ His head turns to me. And I see confusion there, maybe even rage, but beneath that, I see ….longing...and strangely, I understand him.

„Come home to Eretz, go to your sister and then just take this car and drive to Italy there'll be a ship to home.“

Jakob grins, shakes his head, with his somewhat too long hair.

„You're crazy, come on. I just...we-“

„The last time our people said we don't go, we lost everything, so no, you gonna make it exactly like I said. End of discussion.“

And we drove on. It got darker and it started to rain. I didn't take a cigarette in my hand, till we arrived in the hotel.

The room is freezing amd we both just fall down on the mattress, still dressed.

I turn the light off and into the dark I hear Jakob whisper:

„Good night, David.“

„One last question,“ I whisper back. I feel the weight of the mattress shifting, as he moves his body closer to mine.

I turn my head., look into his dark eyes, the moon leaving little sprinkles on his face.

„Why don't you think I'm crazy? Why don't you judge me, by just having a dream, to think a person is alive?“

His cold hand touches my cheek.

„When my mama died, she stood at my bed. So, no, I don't think you're crazy.“

I move closer to him.

„Good night, Jakob.“

He embraces me, pulls me closer, closer, closer...

„Sleep well.“

__________________________________

I start to shiver, though I am not even at the door, yet. And I haven't knocked yet. It's a small house. Made out of stone, old.

I was never so frightened in my whole life. What if he isn't Anton? What if all of this, is just the stupidest, craziest fucking idea, I ever had?

So I stand there, Minutes pass.

Suddenly, a man opens the door. My heart plummets into the pit.

He looks at me. I stare back.

I feel like someone just took the bones out of my body and I'm nothing but a pile of flesh.

And then he flies into my arms, bursting into hot, dashing tears.

#law of silence #bullshitiiiiii #yihaaa

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hookedonapirate · 4 years

Text

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cottage on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: I decided to post this earlier than I had planned. Thanks for all of your responses so far! Some trigger warnings I forgot to add but don't happen until this and future chapters anyway are inappropriate and unwanted infatuation. There will probably be more tw's as we move along.

Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Prologue

Chapter 1

“Hey.”

The sound of Graham’s voice pulls Emma from her thoughts as she stares blankly into the full margarita glass in her hand. “Hey.”

“There aren’t any hard feelings, right?”

She can hear the concern in his thick, Irish accent as he claims the stool next to her and sets his beer tumbler on the bar top.

Swiveling her head to look at him, she knits her brows in confusion. “Why would there be?”

He shrugs. “Because I know how much you wanted the promotion.”

Right. That.

Emma’s been so consumed by the trial she actually forgot why she was here at the bar—to celebrate Graham’s promotion. The hospital board of directors appointed Graham to Chief of Surgery a week ago, and though the news was a major blow to her at first, she’s thrilled for him; she really is. Yes, she’d wanted the position, and ever since the predecessor announced his retirement, she and Graham had been the leading contenders. She’s proven time and time again she’s more than capable of overtaking the extra responsibilities the job entails, but Graham deserves the title as well.

“You're qualified and capable and you deserved it,” Graham says empathetically with an expression meant to convey his reluctance to say what he wants to say. Averting his eyes from hers, he cradles the back of his neck with his palm, his cheeks reddening as he adds, “Probably more qualified than I am.”

Emma tilts her head from side to side and offers a slight smirk. “Not probably. I am,” she teases playfully, making him chuckle. His left hand rests on the bar top between them as she places her hand over his, her smirk transforming into a sincere smile. “I’m happy for you, Graham, I really am. I’m sorry if I seem…” she pauses, debating which adjective best describes her recent behavior before settling on, “distant.” Distant isn’t really the adequate term, but it’s the best word to convey her mood without putting a damper on his.

Graham swivels toward her on his stool to cover her hand with his other one. “That trial really rattled you, didn’t it?”

Emma drags her hand away to bring the margarita glass to her lips, and mumbles, “In more ways than one,” before taking a sip. Not only does she constantly question her decision, but the visions of the defendant’s eyes watching her keep flittering through her mind. He'd made her feel very uncomfortable in the courtroom. Every time she'd look his way, he was staring. And she knew he wasn’t merely staring aimlessly into space or at someone next to her. No, he was staring directly at her. She kept trying to discourage his attention by scowling at him or looking away, but her attempts only seemed to encourage him. Every time she saw that creepy grin on his face, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end; it was like slimy worms were crawling up her skin. She felt like she were in an episode of Fear Factor.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Em. He could actually be innocent,” Graham says with a spirited grin as he playfully nudges her elbow with his. “And if he is, you saved an innocent man’s life.”

Emma smiles faintly at him, appreciating his optimism. “I didn't. The jury saved him.”

“Oh, come on, where’s that confident surgeon I know? I would’ve thought you’d return from the trial gloating about being picked as a forewoman when I said you wouldn’t even be chosen as a juror.”

Emma laughs. “You have a valid point, I should be brandishing my bragging rights at your celebration party instead of sulking at the bar all by my lonesome.” She takes another sip of her drink.

When she moaned and groaned to Graham in the doctors’ lounge about receiving the jury summons, he was quick to point out she wouldn’t be chosen because she’s too opinionated, too analytical and too bossy. Emma just smirked and took his remarks as compliments. “Guess you were wrong.”

He shrugs indifferently. “Oh well, you win some, you lose some. I can’t expect to win all our battles.”

Emma nods in agreement. “What would be the fun in winning all the time?”

Graham winks at her. “Exactly.”

He chugs the rest of his beer down before asking Emma to play darts with him. She groans, but when he takes her hand in his and pulls her from the barstool, she doesn’t argue.

After she beats him at darts, she chats with other colleagues and switches to water after one margarita, since she has to drive home. Robin Locklsey is the owner of the bar, but his wife, Regina, is one of the doctors celebrating with them tonight, so he joins them at the table to socialize and later, plays a couple rounds of pool with Graham and Regina.

Emma is the first among her colleagues to announce she’s ready to leave because she has to work an early shift in the morning. After saying good night to everyone, she is escorted to her car by Graham.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says sincerely as they turn to face each other in front of her car.

“Thanks for inviting me.” Emma gnaws on her bottom lip, wondering if he really knows how happy she is for him, and not bitter in any way. Of course, she’d take the promotion in a heartbeat, but she’s glad it went to him and not someone else. “Congratulations, Graham. I‘m really proud of you,” Emma says with a genuine smile. Then she opens her arms, and he follows suit, pulling her into a hug. “If someone other than me had to get the promotion, I’m glad it was you,” she murmurs into his ear, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispers, holding her tight.

The hug is longer than she expects, and as soon as she realizes other colleagues could filter out at any second and think something else is happening between the two doctors who are famously known around the hospital as rival surgeons, Emma pulls away. “Have a good night, Graham.” She’s about to turn around and walk away, but he does something else she doesn’t expect.

He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Goodnight, Emma.”

She offers a faint smile. “Goodbye, Graham.”

She walks away from him, not sure what to think or how else to respond to what just happened. They’ve known each other since they were both residents and never once has he kissed her on the cheek, which is actually kind of strange if she thinks about it. They’ve always been too busy poking fun at one another to engage in long hugs and kisses on the cheek.

Once Emma’s inside her car, she places her hand on her cheek as she watches him head back into the bar. The kiss meant nothing. It was just a cheek kiss. They’re friends. They should be able to exchange cheek kisses without it meaning anything.

Yes, it was just a friendly kiss, Emma surmises as she pulls her hand away from her cheek to start her trusty bug. When the engine roars to life, she pulls away from the curb, breathing unsteadily as she drives home. She knows it was only a friendly kiss, but did he? Could he have feelings for her that went beyond the friendly relationship they had established?

If so, she has to put a stop to it now. She can't get romantically involved with a colleague. She doesn't get romantically involved with anyone, and certainly not with anyone she works with. What they have now is good and she doesn't want that to change.

The entire way home, she wonders if the kiss had meant something more than friendship. It's 10:17 pm when she pulls into her garage and decides to ask him about the kiss tomorrow and tell him they can't be anything more than friends.

~*~

Four hours later…

The smoke rings float through the pleasantly cool, Texas air before slowly evaporating into the blackness. The soothing sound of a trumpet from his favorite Frank Sinatra song plays through the audio speakers as he stares at the photo in the Storybrooke Telegram. It’s a glowing article about Storybrooke General’s new Chief of Surgery and confirmation of what his sweet Tamara told him yesterday. It’s not that he didn’t believe her, but he needed proof so he would know without a shadow of a doubt his efforts will not be wasted. It’s not every day he takes a life for his own personal agenda. And truth be told, he doesn’t trust anyone. Not even the pretty nurse who’s been his second pair of eyes and ears since he met her at the strip club six months ago. Two out of the three days a week Tamara’s not working at the hospital, she’s pole dancing to pay off her college debts.

Tossing the paper aside, he brings the cigar between his lips and gently inhales, savoring the warm cherry-flavored smoke before exhaling slowly, blowing the smoke toward the direction where Storybrooke General stands tall. The excitement dancing inside his belly is almost unbearable.

Not guilty.

Since the moment those two delightful words rang through the courtroom, he’d been contemplating ways to thank the beautiful blonde juror who so passionately argued for his acquittal.

And he’s thought of the perfect way to show his gratitude.

His lips expand into a menacing grin. He grows hard just thinking about her and how flushed she got when he stared at her lustfully in the courtroom. Such an exquisite creature she is. She wore those soft, silk blouses and tight black skirts which showed off her long, sexy legs and made her ass look so nice, you could melt ice cubes on it. She looked good enough to eat.

He groans and palms his erection, but the ringing of his phone interrupts his pleasant thoughts. If only he had enough time to finish himself off while fantasizing about her. But not tonight.

With a frustrated grunt, he removes his hand from his crotch and pauses the music with the remote control before accepting the call from the unknown number. He says nothing into the phone, only waits for the caller to speak.

“He’s pulling out of his driveway now.”

He ends the call and slips the phone into his pocket, doing his best to contain his excitement. He reaches over and extinguishes the butt of his cigar with the photo of the chief surgeon’s face, taking immense pleasure in watching the cigar blacken and burn a hole into the thin paper.

Rising from his chair, he leers lasciviously over the city from the vantage point of his penthouse balcony.

He carries the Storybrooke Telegram inside and tosses it into the fireplace, watching it disintegrate into ash before he leaves his condo with a knife hidden in his ankle holster. He descends several floors in the elevator and leaves the building, sashaying down the sidewalk as he lifts his hood over his head before shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Walking to Storybrooke General takes all of ten minutes, giving him plenty of time to arrive before the Chief Surgeon pulls into the doctor’s parking lot, according to how long it took him to drive from the man’s house to the hospital yesterday morning after he’d followed the doctor home.

Dressed in all black, he’s able to slink around in the night like a black panther. Unlike his father, he always leaves a crime scene like a ghost—invisible and untraceable. He’d burned off his fingerprints long ago and always leaves the weapon at the scene of the crime. It’s too bad his father wasn’t as smart. He may have been cunning and evil, his heart black as night, but there is a reason he’s rotting in prison while his son enjoys a life of luxury as a contract killer, and yet has never been convicted of a crime. No, he’s nothing like his father. He doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. He doesn’t kill people with malice intent; he performs a service—a job—and he does so with a straight face, his eyes devoid of emotion. He’s had nothing against anyone he’s ever murdered.

Well, until tonight.

Tonight, he will be the one wielding the power, tonight he will be the one deciding someone’s fate.

Because tonight he’s doing it for her.

Dr. Emma Swan.

Tagging some people who have shown interest so far. If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know.

@nikkiemms @teamhook @xhookswenchx @nikkiemms @xsajx @julesep3026 @hookedmom @biefaless @cluttermind @yasbio2015 @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @harshini01 @noensnaringnet @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld @annastasiarinaldiva @royalswan @brustudyblog @officerrogers @gingerchangeling @melly326 @singersdd @mzbossyboots @unworried-corsair @iamemmaswanjones @authorarsinoe @kingofmyheart14 @nightskylover @jamif @resident-of-storybrooke @iam2307 @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @chinawoodfan @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd @captainswan-shipper88 @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera

#cs ff #captain swan #beyond a reasonable doubt #my fic

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swanqueeneverafter · 6 years

Text

27. The Heart of the Truest Believer, Pt.1

The Land Without Magic. Past. Phoenix, Arizona. (Emma is giving birth in a prison hospital room where the doctor and the nurses are attending to her. The clock strikes eight-fifteen.) Doctor: “Big breath. Breathe away, breathe away.” Nurse: “Okay, here we go.” Doctor: “You're doing great. Hang on, hang on.” Nurse: “You're almost there.” Doctor: “You're doing fine.” Nurse: “Keep breathing.” Doctor: “You're doing fantastic. That's it. Breath, breath, breath! Doing great. You're doing great. Here you go. Keep going. Yep. Breathe, breathe. Take a deep breath. Okay big push, big push. (Emma screams:) Push, push, push! (The lights begin to flicker and go out as Henry is born. Emma sighs in exhaustion and relief. The Doctor holds the baby:) Great. Here we go. That's good. That's beautiful. (To the baby:) How you doing? (To Emma:) It's a boy, Emma. (She looks away:) Emma? (Emma shakes her head. The nurse whispers in the doctor's ear:) Oh. Emma, just so you know, you can change your mind.” Emma: “No, I can't be a mother.” (She cries as the doctor takes the baby away.) Inside The Magic Bean's Portal. Present. (Emma, David, Mary Margaret, Mr. Gold and Regina hold tight to ropes on the Jolly Roger with Hook at the helm as the ship crosses through the portal. They finally land on the waters of Neverland. The group looks around in confusion.) Emma: “Is that it?!” Hook: “Aye, Neverland.” (Emma gazes at the island with determination.)

Neverland's Island. Present. (Henry lands on the shore after falling through the portal. He attempts to get up and run.) Tamara: “No, uh-uh. (She grabs Henry by his coat:) Slow down, Henry. You’ve got nowhere to go. (Sighs, looking around:) We made it. Mission accomplished.” Henry: “Are you sure about that? 'Cuz my mom is coming to get me. Both of them.” Tamara: “You might wanna take a look around. Do you see any clock towers? You're a long way from Storybrooke.” Henry: “It doesn't matter! My family's been to the Enchanted Forest before, and they can get here again.” Tamara: (Hears a weird howling noise and looks around:) “Well, we're not in the Enchanted Forest. This is Neverland.” Henry: (In disbelief:) “Neverland? You're here to destroy Neverland?” Tamara: “It's the mother lode of magic. I need to signal the Home Office.” Henry: “An office in the jungle? Huh. Who works there?” Tamara: “Who I work for is not your concern, just know that they take care of me.” Henry: “Do they? Can they tell you how to get back home after you destroy magic?” Tamara: (Ignoring him, trying to operate the communicator:) “I'm not getting a status light on this thing. (She opens the battery compartment. Sand falls out:) What the hell is this? A toy?” Henry: “It's a good thing you don't ask any questions.” Tamara: "Let's go. Walk!” Neverland. Present. On The Jolly Roger. (Hook, manning the helm, slows the ship as Regina notices.) Regina: “Why are you slowing down? In case you didn't know, my son's life is in danger.” Hook: “Oh, I know, my hot-headed Queen. The plan is to bring us to the far side of the island, link up with the widest part of the river, and... then we sail right through, take him by surprise. The irony...” Regina: “What irony?” Hook: “Oh, I spent more time than I care to remember trying to leave this place to kill Rumplestiltskin. And here I am, sailing right back into its heart with him as my guest of honor. It's not quite the happy ending I was hoping for.” Regina: (Scoffs:) “Happy endings. We’re villains, Hook, don’t you know happy endings don’t apply to us? Well, according to Henry’s book, anyway. Do you believe that?” Hook: “I hope not, or we've wasted our lives.” (Regina nods and turns her attention elsewhere. As Hook watches her, he follows her gaze to look over at Emma, standing along the ships railing, gazing out at the sea. Mary Margaret and David approach her.)

Mary Margaret: “Hey. What happened to Neal and Henry - it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself.” Emma: “I don't. I blame you. All this happened because you wouldn’t listen to me. You thought I was pining over Neal when I told you Tamara wasn’t to be trusted. You say good always wins. It doesn't. I didn't grow up in some fairy tale land. My experience is different. That's all I can go on.” Mary Margaret: “And all we have to go on is ours, so if you would just let us share our wisdom--” Emma: “I appreciate you trying to be parents, but we're the same age. We have equal amounts of wisdom. And all I want is Henry back. I should never have broken the curse. I should've just... burned that damned book and then Henry and maybe Regina and I-” Mary Margaret: “You're right. Th-Then you'd be together. We missed you growing up Emma, and it haunts us every day.” David: “And that's why we're here now. We don't want you to have to go through the same thing, too, and you won't. We are gonna get our family back.” Emma: “How can you two be so infuriatingly optimistic?!” David: “It's who we are.” Emma: “Why? Ever since you got your memories back, ever since you remembered that you're Snow White and Prince Charming, your lives have... they've... well, they've sucked!” David: “No. No, we found you.” Emma: “And lost Henry and Neal, and countless other people!” Mary Margaret: “Emma, the minute I let go of the belief that things will get better is the minute that I know they won't. We'll find Henry.” Mr. Gold: “No, you won't.” (Everyone turns to see Mr. Gold standing at the helm garbed in his old Rumplestiltskin outfit.) Hook: (Sarcastically:) “Oh, that's a great use of our time—a wardrobe change.” Mr. Gold: “I'm gonna get Henry.” Regina: “We agreed to do this together.” Mr. Gold: “Actually, we made no such agreement.” Emma: “Why are you doing this?” Mr. Gold: “Because I wanna succeed.” Emma: “What makes you think I'm gonna fail?” Mr. Gold: “Well, how could you not? You don't believe in your parents, or in magic, or even yourself.” Emma: “I slayed a dragon. I think I believe.” Mr. Gold: “Only what was shown to you. When have you ever taken a real leap of faith? You know, the kind where there's absolutely no proof? I've known you some time, Miss Swan. And, sadly, despite everything you've been through, you're still just that... bail bonds-person, looking for evidence. Well, dearie, that's not gonna work in Neverland.” Emma: “I'll do whatever it takes.” Mr. Gold: “Well, you just need someone to tell you what that is. Sorry, dearie, our foe is too fearsome for hand-holding. Neverland is a place where imagination runs wild. And, sadly, yours doesn't.” (He spins his cane, which falls to the deck. In the next second, Mr. Gold is gone from the ship and only his cane remains.)

Neverland's Island. Present. (In a clearing in the jungle, Tamara starts a fire.) Henry: “We making s'mores?” Tamara: “No. I’m making a signal. I need to let the home office know that we're here. (There are rustling leaves in the background. Tamara turns her head. A group of teenagers come from the trees and surround Tamara and Henry. To the teenagers:) Who are you?” Felix: “We're the Home Office. Welcome to Neverland.” Tamara: “The Home Office is a bunch of teenagers?” Henry: “They're not teenagers. They're the Lost Boys.” Felix: (Impressed:) “Look at that.” Henry: “Why do the Lost Boys want to destroy magic?” Felix: “Who said we wanna destroy magic?” Tamara: “That was our mission.” Felix: “So you were told, yes. Now the boy. Hand him over.” Tamara: “Not unless you tell me the plan—for magic, for getting home.” Felix: “You're not getting home.” Tamara: “Then you're not getting the boy.” Felix: (Chuckles:) “Of course we are.” Tamara: “Run!” (Tamara and Henry start running.) Felix: “Get the boy.” (The Lost Boys chase after Tamara and Henry. A Lost Boy fires an arrow and it hits Tamara in the back. She gasps for air and collapses. Henry keeps running and the Lost Boys continue to chase him. After Henry runs past two trees, he trips and falls. A mysterious boy pick him up and pulls him out of the way.) Boy: “Come on.” (The Lost Boys run past Henry and his companion. They continue to pant and the boy pulls down the hood on his robe.) Henry: “Thanks.” Boy: “Pan and his forces are in tune with every grain of sand on the island. We must be careful.” Henry: “Are—are you a Lost Boy?” Boy: “I was. (The boy removes the zip tie on Henry's hands:) But I escaped. And now they're after me, too.” Henry: “How? What happened?” Boy: “No time for questions. We must keep moving. Come on.” (The boy pulls Henry back to his feet. They run off into the distance.)

Neverland. Present. On The Jolly Roger. (Emma is doing pull-ups on a bar above. She continues to do pull-ups and after a while, she stands back down. Hook enters the room.) Hook: “Oh. Don't stop on my account.” Emma: “Wouldn't think of it.” (She continues to do pull-ups as Hook walks closer to her.) Hook: “What are you doing?” Emma: “Getting ready for a fight.” (Emma stands back down on to the platform.) Hook: “Well, I've never known you to need to get ready for a fight. I thought it was a natural state. Don't let Rumplestiltskin get you down, love.” Emma: (Emma jumps down on to the floor:) “What do you want?” Hook: “To give you something.” (Hook gets a key out and walks over to a locked chest. He unlocks it.) Hook: “You know, Baelfire and I once spent a lot of time together.” Emma: “He was always Neal to me.” Hook: “Yeah. Right. (Hook grabs a sword from the table and brings it to Emma:) This was his.” Emma: (Emma grabs the sword:) “I didn't realize you were sentimental.” Hook: “I'm not. I just thought you could use it where we're going. You know, to fight.” (Hook gives Emma a shot glass. He uncorks the flask and pours rum in her glass.) Emma: “Thanks.” Hook: “To Neal.” Emma: “To Neal.” (Emma and Hook clink their glasses and drink the rum.)

Enchanted Forest. Present. Aurora's Palace. (Neal is lying on the bed and wakes up, realizing he is alive.) Mulan: “Who are you?” Neal: “Neal.” Aurora: (Aurora and Phillip approach Mulan and Neal:) “Is he well?” Mulan: “Well enough to be questioned.” Aurora: (Aurora pours a glass of water for Neal:) “Here. Drink. Drink. You must be thirsty.” (Aurora gives Neal a sip of water.) Neal: “Where am I?” Aurora: “You're in our kingdom.” Neal: “Where's your—where's your kingdom?” Phillip: “The Enchanted Forest.” Neal: (Sighs:) “I'm back.” Aurora: “Back? You mean you're from here?” Mulan: “He's lying. Look at his clothes. He's from the same world Emma and Snow are from.” Neal: “Emma? Emma Swan? You know her?” Mulan: “How do you know her?” Neal: “She's... She's my... I-I don't know. But she's in danger I have to get back to her. I have to help her.” (Neal tries to get up and Aurora helps him sit up.) Phillip: “You need to rest. You were gravely injured when we found you. Were you hit by some kind of arrow?” Neal: (Checks his wound:) “.45 Caliber Arrow. Look, I-I need your help. I need to know that Emma and Henry are alright.” Aurora: “You're... You're Henry's father? (Neal nods:) I was once under a sleeping curse. Snow taught me how to control the nightmare. And with practice, I'm able to walk the dream world, find others who have passed though. It's possible I can make contact with them. (Neal stands up on the ground:) If I can, what would you like me to tell them?” Neal: “Tell Emma I'm alive, and I love her.”

#sq #swanqueen #Swan Queen

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katie-dub · 7 years

Text

Never Forget You

Emma Swan needs a break - and to stop crashing into a mysterious stranger who she just can’t get out of her head. Unfortunately the universe has other plans.

Happy birthday @phiralovesloki! I’m sure you have all heard of this fabulous lady, but she is the sweetest. Not only does she write awesome fics, but also she’s massively supportive - her tireless cheerleading of The Masks We Wear has kept me writing though many a bad time. And she is even amazing enough to devote her time to running the @captainswanbigbang like a champion, and to step in and help with betaing Heathens for @mahstatins when I was struggling with Life Stuff.

Basically, Phira, Mothy, my dear, have a fantastic birthday and enjoy a little *cough* nearly 9k *cough* trope mash up for your special day.

Huge thanks to @sambethe @mahstatins and @killiancygnus for beta reading this for me.

AO3

Emma Swan is many things: sheriff, orphan, loving mother, junk food aficionado and - as of two minutes ago - killer.

Well, potentially.

She leaps out of her car to see what has become of the man she just hit with her car. He’s sitting on the curb, clutching at his ribs. He looks up as she approaches and fuck, he’s gorgeous, all messy dark hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw.

“Hey beautiful,” he wheezes out, trying to throw a winning smile her way. His honeyed voice and British accent are as beautiful as he is. “You know, there are better ways to get a man’s attention than attempted murder.”

Her automatic response is to roll her eyes at the blatant flirting. She ignores the charm and drops down beside him with concern. “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you OK? Do you need a doctor?”

“You just knocked the wind out of my sails, love. I’ll be fine.”

She cocks an eyebrow in disbelief at his blasé attitude. He chuckles at her and waves his prosthetic at her. “I’ve had worse, believe me. Although, should you want to kiss it better…” He trails off, licking his lips suggestively.

“Seriously? Does that sort of thing ever work for you?”

“A devilishly handsome face, exotic accent and charming personality can work wonders.”

“And so modest too.” Emma can’t quite decide if this guy is for real, enjoying his company in spite of herself.

“All part of my charm.”

“Right.” Emma checks her watch, she has to go if she’s going to have time to grab a mocha before work. She looks back at the stranger. He certainly looks fine, his flirting muscles are definitely completely functional and he did say that he’s fine. “I’ve got to go, if you’re sure you’re OK?”

He nods and waves his hand at her to leave. It doesn’t feel quite right leaving the man she just ran over sitting on the side of the road, but he did say he was OK, so with a nod of thanks she jumps back into her car.

She’s so caffeine-deprived that the first sip of her cinnamon-topped mocha tastes like ambrosia - an actual gift from the gods.

She breathes a deep sigh of relief and lets the chocolatey goodness wash away her woes. Nearly killing a man was pre-coffee Emma, practically a whole different person. Post-coffee Emma can forget all about it and look forward to a day of superior sheriffing.

It’s with this thought in mind that she strides to the door, happy and confident that today will be a good day after all.

So of course she’s startled by someone shoving hard on the door just as she gets to it. She takes a step back, jerking her drink out of range of the fast-approaching obstacle. She manages to avoid getting hit in the face, and while that’s definitely a win, her mocha ended up all over the unsuspecting stranger’s hand in the process. Her scalding hot mocha. Shit shit shit.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Emma shrieks in distress, grabs a stack of napkins she spots at a nearby table and thrusts them towards him. “You’ll need to run that under cold water so that you’ll keep some of your skin.”

“It’ll be fine, love,” a familiar voice wheezes. Emma freezes. No. It can’t be the guy she hit with her car. It just can’t. She looks up into the same blue eyes from earlier. Right, it’s going to be that kind of day.

He grins at her and takes the proffered napkins. “Throwing a drink over someone is certainly an improvement on your last flirting tactic, but next time you should try simply throwing yourself at the object of your desire.”

The sentiment is punctuated with a poorly formed wink. She smirks in spite of herself and quirks a brow at him. “If you think that you’re the object of my desire, buddy, you’re going to be seriously disappointed.”

“If what you’re telling me is that you aren’t trying to get my attention, I find that hard to believe.”

Emma shakes her head at the cockiness of a man whose hand is covered in boiling liquid yet stops to flirt. Fuck. His hand is covered in boiling liquid! “Think what you want, but you really should see to your hand.”

“It’s really alright, love. Not a whole lot of feeling in it anyway.” Emma frowns and looks down and is reminded that it’s a prosthetic.

She winces, feeling like that’s something she should’ve remembered. “I’m sorry anyway, can I buy you a drink to apologise for this and the other thing?”

“Hitting me with your car you mean?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “I knew this was all a ploy to get me on a date.”

“It’s not a date, it’s coffee. I need a new one and buying yours is the least I can do.”

She starts walking back to the counter wearily. “If I can have the pleasure of your company, we can call it whatever you want.” He’s close to her and she feels his words murmured into her ear. She shivers slightly, then curses her body’s involuntary reaction to the stranger.

“Oh no -” she turns to glare at him “- I’m just buying the coffee, then I have to get to work.”

“Whatever you say,” he says with a smirk. She ignores him and the strange attraction she has to him as she orders and pays for their coffee. She doesn’t exactly mean to be rude. She just wants to be clear that this is an apology and nothing else, so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea. It’s not that she needs reminding of that too, because his handsome face and ridiculous flirting does absolutely nothing for her. God, she couldn’t even believe her own lies.

He surprises her by following her lead: he doesn’t say a word until the barista hands her her coffee and she’s heading out the door. “Next time don’t feel you need to injure me to get my attention, love!” he calls after her. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

It’s a surprisingly busy day for Emma. Her brother and deputy, David, is busy at the hospital with his wife who’s gone into labour, and while things are usually a bit slow with him there, there’s just too much work for one person.

That’s how it gets to 3pm before she’s had any lunch. She doesn’t actually feel all that hungry, but she can hear Mary Margaret’s voice in her head tutting about “proper nutrition” and she could use a break.

She’s strolling down the main street when she notices the new florist that’s just opened. On a whim she decides to pick up some flowers for Mary Margaret and heads inside.

She’s staring at the dizzying array of choice when she’s startled by a familiar voice behind her. “Need any help, love?”

She whirls around and her mouth drops open at the sight of scruffy hair and piercing blue eyes. “You’re a stalker!” she exclaims and he quirks his brow at her in amusement.

“You came into my shop.” He steps closer. “And it’s you who molested me on our last two meetings.”

Emma blushes at the memory. “I said I was sorry! And I got you that coffee…”

“I’m only teasing. You can make attempts on my life anytime.” Emma narrows her eyes at his words, but he barrels on, suddenly all business, before she can speak. “Now I’m assuming that you aren’t here just to see my devilishly handsome face, so what are you looking for?”

“My sister-in-law is having her first baby, so I wanted to get her some flowers.”

“Do you know what she likes?”

“Pretty ones?” Killian chuckles and Emma shrugs. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about flowers.”

“No problem, love, that’s my job. Do you know what she’s having?”

“A baby..?”

“We’ll steer clear of pinks and blues then?” Emma nods and the florist rubs his chin thoughtfully. “What’s her style? And how much do you want to pay?”

“40 bucks?” Killian nods approvingly. Emma squints, picturing the Nolans’ loft. “Her things are kind of vintage and cutesy. Although she’s kind of feisty, like if Snow White were a bad ass bandit?”

“I can work with that. Do you want me to talk you through it or do you want to trust me to work my magic?”

“Knock yourself out.” She half expects him to make a comment about earlier, but he contents himself with a meaningful look and sets to work.

She finds herself mesmerised as he twirls about gathering up flowers and leaves and all forms of decorative things to create Mary Margaret’s bouquet. She half wonders if he actually can wield magic - she’s sure that she couldn’t create anything half as beautiful with twice the time and 6 extra hands. And that’s before she considers the hypnotic effect his graceful dance has on her. She never would’ve considered flower arranging a turn on, but damn if her insides aren’t melting at the sight. It’s definitely some form of witchcraft. In no time at all, he’s completed a relaxed, stylish arrangement of white flowers and forest foliage. He carefully wrapped it into a special bag with water inside to keep it fresh and that bag is inside a cute but sturdy brown paper bag with lace handles. “What do you think, lass?” He asks, presenting it to her and watching her reaction carefully. “A nice gender-neutral bouquet for your feisty fairytale friend?” “It’s perfect -” she falters, realising that she hasn’t yet found out his name. “Killian,” he supplies, “it must be because I had such a stunning muse.” He grins at her and yep, she has totally turned to goo, like some starry-eyed teenager who doesn’t know better. Pull yourself together, she chides herself.

“Yeah, well, it’s great.” She brushes off the compliment and hands over her credit card. She makes a point of focusing on her card to avoid embarrassing herself further by looking at his pretty face.

“Thanks, Swan.” She looks up startled by his use of her name. She’s almost flustered enough to ask how he could possibly know that, when she remembers it’s printed on her card.

Deciding that she can’t trust herself to talk - or act - normally around this man, she bites her lip and keeps quiet as she signs her name and he hands her the receipt.

She mumbles her thanks and heads for the door. She thinks she’s got away without further flirting, but he calls out as she goes.

“Goodbye, Swan.” And because she’s a glutton for punishment, she turns back to him. “Feel free to stop by to make use of my services anytime.” He licks his lips and dammit if she hasn’t seen porn that’s had less of an effect on her.

She blushes hard. “I might do. You’re very good at handling flowers.” She winces at her poor word choice. She’d been aiming for breezy, but that was anything but.

“Oh I assure you, they’re not the only thing I’m good at handling.”

She’s glad he’s still behind the counter. It means she can tell herself that he is far enough away to not notice the lust in her eyes. Of course, that also means she can’t tell if their little exchange has left him feeling as hard up as she is.

Oh God, she groans internally, unable to stop herself from wondering if he’s stayed behind the counter so that she can’t see how hard to handle he’s found their encounter. She hopes he has, she wants to take a look.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it.” The flirtatious words are out of her mouth before she can even think. What are you doing? she shrieks at herself.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he returns and fuck she needs to get a grip. And not on him. She has a clear image in her mind’s eye of grabbing him and kissing until they’re both panting and flushed. And the way he’s looking at her, she almost thinks that he’s seeing it too.

But that’s not possible. It’s only soulmates who share dreams and fantasies, and all that fairytale bullshit isn’t for her. It’s for good people like David and Mary Margaret. (And frankly while the shared dream of being Snow White and Prince Charming was cute - if a little saccharine for Emma’s taste - the whole concept of sharing nightmares alongside dreams was downright terrifying.)

“Bye then,” she throws out, before she can do something dumb like act out her fantasy. She leaves the florist as fast as she can, ignoring his goodbye and trying not to think about why she’s so drawn to him.

She’s still trying not to think about Killian as she gets ready for her monthly night out later that day. Mary Margaret’s stepsister, Regina, had taken to Henry when he was still a baby and had kind of adopted him as her own, offering to take care of him at least one night a month so Emma could just be herself. To a young, single mother it was like a dream come true, and even now that she was 29 and Henry was 11, she cherished this time.

Normally when she was feeling keyed up like she was from meeting Killian she’d go to a bar in the next town over and find someone to help her scratch that itch. This month though, Zelena had been very insistent that they had to go to The Rabbit Hole. She couldn’t remember why, but thinks that a hot guitarist had been mentioned. As it was, she didn’t hook up with men in Storybrooke, she just couldn’t face the town gossip. It was hard to have any respect as sheriff when the folks you’re trying to arrest know that you like to wear red silk underwear when you’re out to get laid. (Or worse, they know first hand what your O face looks like.)

Still, a few shots and some girl talk with her friends would be fun. And with any luck the hot guitarist would help get Killian out of her fantasies.

The universe is laughing at me. That’s all Emma could think as Killian stepped up to the mic. If she wasn’t fuckstruck before, she definitely was now.

He uses his right hand to pick out the chords and strummed with the prosthetic on his left. His fingers are so nimble that she can’t help but imagine how they’d feel on her body, working her up. He locks eyes with her as soon as the thought crosses her mind. He bites his lip and tilts his head to study her. She’s left with the uncomfortable feeling that he knows exactly what she is thinking about. Overcome with embarrassment, she turns her attention to her friends.

“See? Isn’t he luscious?” Zelena whispers to them all, with a pointed wink at Emma.

“I’d eat him,” Ruby growls softly, dreamy-eyed.

“I’d get him to eat me,” Tink exclaims. “Look at how he uses that tongue, he definitely knows what he’s doing.”

And of course Emma pictures him between her thighs. It’s enough to make her blush deeply and study the floor, sure that he’ll somehow be able to read her dirty thoughts all over her face.

He starts playing Summer of ‘69 and as he does she has a vivid fantasy of them in the sexual position of the same name. It’s enough to make her gasp and her head snaps up to look at him. He’s looking straight at her, eyebrows raised in what looks like a challenge and he deliberately licks his lips.

What is she saying? The only way that could have been deliberate would be that he knew what she’d just seen. And the only way for him to know that would be…

“Bathroom,” she announces, abruptly leaping to her feet and running for the facilities. She thinks she hears Zelena calling something like “don’t worry, Emma, we’re all that wet!” but she can’t be sure - and really doesn’t want to be.

She hides in the bathroom for long enough to calm her impending panic attack. While going home is tempting, she decides that she couldn’t cope with all the jokes about taking care of herself she’d face if she did. Besides, a stiff drink would really help right now. In fact she may need several, she’d quite like a dreamless sleep. Just because her imagination sucks right now, she’s not at all concerned that she might be sharing wet dreams with a certain handsome, guitar-playing, British florist.

She gives herself a hard look in the mirror. Stop this bullshit, you’re not the soulmate type, you’re just horny and he’s hot. Perhaps not the best pep talk, but it did the job.

She orders a round of tequila then goes back to her friends with a tray of shots.

It’s much later and she’s much drunker when she hears his voice in her ear. “Been thinking about me, Swan?” She can’t help the sudden vision she has of being on her knees before him, licking and sucking as he moans. She realises that he’s actually moaned out loud into her ear and she automatically jumps away from him.

Deciding that she really needs to regain her cool, she retorts, “in your dreams.” She tries to lean nonchalantly against the bar, but she’s lost all coordination and misses, her elbow slipping and causing her to stumble.

Killian catches her and murmurs, “oh no, Swan, in yours.”

She shoves him backwards and fixes him with her best glare. “Whatever,” she mutters.

“You’re something of an open book to me.” As he says it, he reaches up to scratch behind his ear and subconsciously she moves to push her hair behind her own ears when she sees it: His soul mark. The one right below his right ear that is a perfect match for the one she sports.

She stills her hands in shock but whimpers, “fuck no.” She half-knew already, but she really didn’t want actual proof.

“Everything OK, love?”

“You’re my fucking soulmate?” she blurts out.

“I thought that was obvious already? Let me tell you, you can get on your knees for me anytime you like…” His eyes are shining with pure sin and she’s equally aroused, humiliated, and anxious at the unavoidable truth.

“This is bullshit,” Emma declares, feeling furious at the world for this strange twist of fate. “My life isn’t some rom com and nobody chooses who I fuck but me.” Through the haze of alcohol she notices how crestfallen he looks. She ignores it. She’s not going to have sex with someone just because fate tells her to. It’s ridiculous to even entertain the thought.

She turns to leave and Killian grabs her arm. “Will you let me walk you home?” Her eyes dart down to where he’s holding her arm. He instantly drops it. “I don’t mean anything by it. You’re just quite intoxicated…”

“That’s none of your concern, Killian. Just forget about this whole -” she can’t even say the word soulmates, just gestures wildly “- thing. I don’t do relationships. Stay out of my dreams and don’t even think about playing the hero and following me.”

As she stalks off, she hears him softly reply, “as you wish.”

***

Emma wakes up to the sight of her Hot Roommate™ (as Ruby insists on calling Killian) standing over her looking guilty.

“Sorry, Swan, I didn’t mean to wake you, you looked cold so I was just…” He gestures to the blanket that’s now draped over her.

“Oh, that’s OK.” She sits up and rubs her neck. How long was she asleep for that it now hurts so much? “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep on the couch. But, thanks for this.”

Killian rubs behind his ear awkwardly, gives her a little nod and strides towards his bedroom.

She has a vague memory of her dream, meeting Killian over and over again, eventually learning he was her soulmate… with all that entailed. She blushes at the thought of the racier parts of the soulmate deal. She may need to get laid. And while she’s thinking about it, she makes a mental note to ban all rom coms from her next movie night with Mary Margaret. She doesn’t care how pregnant and hormonal the woman is, Emma needs to protect her subconscious from the onslaught of Hollywood meet-cutes.

She sits up, stretches lazily and reaches for her phone.

Ruby’s sent her a photo of herself dressed to kill in a little black dress to their group chat with the caption “hot af, amirite?” Zelena’s replied with the winking kiss emoji. Tink offered up heart eyes. Mary Margaret said “I’d do you… and not just because the hormones are making me horny.”

Emma laughs uneasily, trying to scrub the information from her brain. Something about jokes like that from Mary Margaret always made her feel uncomfortable - like she’d imagine it’d be to hear your mom make sex jokes.

“What’s everyone else wearing? You know I’m too pregnant for girls’ night, so I have to live vicariously through your pics.”

Oh God, girls’ night. Emma checks the time - she’s only got half an hour to get ready.

She speeds through her routine and manages to stroll back into the living room exactly 29 minutes later with only her shoes to pull on. Killian’s hovering near their front door, with his back to her. Her eyes slide over his form - his fitted jeans do such wonders for his ass that it feels rude not to check him out. (Just because she has a policy against dating, fucking, or getting romantically involved with a roommate in anyway doesn’t mean she can’t appreciate the goods. She knows Ruby calls him Hot Roommate™ for good reason.)

As if he feels her eyes on him, he turns around, looking dejected. His eyes light up as soon as he sees her.

“Swan! You are looking stunning this evening. What terrible miscreant are you sending back to jail tonight?”

“This isn’t for a perp, I am going out with friends.” She feels awkward under his appreciative gaze. “What about you, dressed up all fancy, got a hot date?”

His grin twists into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, but sighs instead, shaking his head.

“I did, but it seems that she has reunited with her ex and has decided it would be bad form to allow another man to take her to dinner.” His hand flies to the back of his neck and Emma feels sorry for him.

“You should come out with us.” Killian looks up in surprise, with a tiny hint of delight in his eye. “Come on, you’re all ready to go out, we can find you your next hot date.”

“I don’t want to intrude -” he blusters, sounding terribly British in a way that makes Emma think of Hugh Grant. A loud knock on the door interrupts him before he can say anymore.

Emma opens it and Ruby, Tink and Zelena burst into the apartment. She slings her arms over her Ruby’s shoulders and looks at Killian mischievously. “Ladies, Killian here has been stood up, don’t you think he should join us and find himself a better date for tomorrow night?”

Their eyes fill with glee, their smiles seductive and wicked. “Oh absolutely!” says Zelena.

“You’re far too hot to stay home and sulk,” continues Ruby. “We’ll find someone to keep you warm tonight, Killian.” She winks at him and Emma feels a flash of jealousy. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

It definitely wasn’t a good idea.

There’s a brunette at the bar running her hand along Killian’s arm while he murmurs in her ear. Emma imagines forcibly removing the woman’s perfectly manicured fingers and replacing them with her own. She really needs more rum.

“You know, if you want it to be you caressing your pretty roommate, you’ll have to go stake your claim on him.” Zelena practically purrs the words into Emma’s ear.

“I don’t - I wasn’t - it’s not like that.”

“Why not, Emma? If I had a genuine Hot Roommate™, you know I would ride them like a train.” Emma rolls her eyes at Ruby but doesn’t reply.

“You should definitely ride his pretty face. That man knows how to use his tongue.”

All the girls turn to stare at Tink. Emma’s jaw drops in shock.

“Are you telling me that you have hooked up with Killian and we are only just hearing about it?” Ruby damn near shrieks.

Tink just shrugs. “It was years ago. You know we’ve been friends for a long time. He lives with Emma because I introduced them when he moved to town, remember?”

“But you didn’t say that he’s your ex!” Emma’s glad that Ruby is saying all of this. She’s been struck dumb by the conversation and if she thought seeing Killian flirt was bad, this is a million times worse.

“He’s not my ex, we were more like friends with benefits back in college. We were barely even that to be honest. There was this bar, Neverland, we went to occasionally and we’d go home together after a night there. Or there was one memorable time when we just got down to it right in the bar -”

“We don’t need to hear about this,” Emma cuts Tink off. This is torture. (And not just because she’s got a bit of a thing for fucking in unconventional places and her very vivid imagination is showing her porn-worthy imagery right now.)

“Yes we do!” Ruby protests, but goes quiet at the look on Emma’s face.

Emma’s decides then and there to say screw it to her no roommates policy and go fuck that beautiful man. It would be a crime not to.

She stalks her way to the bar, ignoring the wolf whistles from her friends and the soundtrack of fantasy moans in her head.

Halfway there, Killian notices her. He catches her eye and smiles. His smile quickly turns sinful as he sees the look in her eyes and the sway of her hips. The brunette who previously had his attention looks pissed, but as he licks his lips Emma knows that girl is forgotten.

Tonight Killian is hers.

She falters at the thought. Can they have just one night? Will that be enough? Is it too much?

And as if her insecurities aren’t enough to ruin a night of fantastic fucking on their own, that’s when she sees him. Her last roommate - and almost fiancé - Walsh. The cheating asshole has a pretty girl on his arm and Emma’s paralysed by the sight.

She’s trying to calculate the best way to escape when he spots her and saunters over. She tries to smile and prepares for the worst.

“Emma! Long time no see!” She opens her mouth, but before she can say a word, there’s an arm sliding around her waist and a rum being pressed into her hand.

“Just play along, love,” Killian murmurs quietly into her ear. His voice sends shivers down her spine. She has to force herself not to imagine him whispering nasty things into her ear while they fuck in the corridor. “Here’s your drink, love,” he continues at a normal volume. “Who’s your friend?” He looks at Walsh expectantly.

“Thanks, darling, this is Walsh, my ex roommate.” Emma deliberately stresses the “ex” so that Killian’s in no doubt as to who she means. (She silently thanks whatever God will listen for that drunken night of sharing sob stories. Sure it was embarrassing at the time - they’d only been living together a few weeks - but it means that he knows exactly how much of a prick Walsh is.)

“Walsh?” Killian tilts his head as if trying to remember why the name sounds familiar. He has a twinkle in his eye that tells her that he knows exactly who she means. “Ah yes, he’s the one you found fucking his boss in your bed, before you could tell him whether you’d accepted his marriage proposal or not.” He looks at Walsh innocently. “Right?”

Emma tries to hide how stunned she is. She never would have dared to say the same, but she is thrilled that Killian did it for her.

“He did what?” Walsh’s date gives him a look of utter contempt and storms off.

“What did you do that for?” Walsh demands.

Killian shrugs, a falsely sheepish look on his face. “Sorry?” Walsh narrows his eyes but huffs and chases after his date.

“Was that OK?” Killian asks, pulling away from her. She snuggles back into him.

“You better stay close in case he comes back. I want it to be clear that I won the break up.”

“And no better way than by letting him think you upgraded to a roguishly handsome devil like me.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Let’s just dance, OK?”

She’s forgotten all about Walsh and is just enjoying dancing with Killian when he pulls her close. “Walsh is watching,” he explains in a whisper. She bites her lip and nods. No need to tell him that he really doesn’t need an excuse.

“Swan, was he always this creepy? He won’t stop staring.”

She doesn’t want to answer, knowing that the truth is that yes, he was. She was just too in love with the whole idea of their relationship to see it then.

Killian saves her from having to answer by murmuring, “why don’t we really give him a show?” She looks at him curiously, and he waggles his eyebrows and taps his lips playfully.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it.” She’s not sure where the words came from, she’s been wanting to kiss him all night (since they met really), but they feel right.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” Killian shoots back. Emma never could resist a challenge, so she grabs his shirt -

And feels something cold and sticky spread across her back as someone crashes into her. She looks over her shoulder and sees the brunette that previously had Killian’s attentions giving her an evil grin. “Oh sorry, I didn’t see you there!” she says, not the least hint of remorse in her voice.

Emma wishes she could be one of those people with a perfect witty put down for every scenario. But she’s not and the moment’s passed with Killian and she feels awkward as hell.

She starts for the exit, ignoring Killian’s concerned “Swan?” and the strange green mist that swirls around her as she leaves.

***

She wakes up and struggles to shake off her strange dreams.

“Swan?” Her best friend Killian saunters into her bedroom, and stops short at the sight of her under the covers. “Aren’t you having a party, love? Not the best sign if the host can’t be bothered to get up… Unless the ‘party’ was all a trick to finally get me into bed after all these years?” His eyes wiggle suggestively and Emma rolls her eyes at him.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it.” As soon as she says that she remembers her dream. She blushes to think how she was about to pounce on Killian and kiss him. Admittedly, it’s not the first time she had a dream like that. (Although usually they got to the more enjoyable activities before she woke up, but this really it isn’t the time to think about such things.)

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Emma stares at Killian, confused. How is he quoting lines from her dream? He blushes and scratches at his ear.

“Huh. You said that to me in my dream.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you were a pirate… No wait, my roommate. Or maybe my soulmate?”

Killian smirks. “You’re dreaming that I’m your soulmate?”

“I’m having some kind of crazy inception style dreams within dreams. I think soulmates was the first level. I called bullshit on it.”

Killian throws back his head and laughs. “You called bullshit on your dream?”

“It wasn’t realistic!”

“That I might be the one for you, your soulmate, your ‘True Love’?” He looks deeply offended for all of 5 seconds before he cracks a wide grin.

“You forget that I have witnessed your Jack Sparrow impression and know it comes from a deep-seated love of all things pirate. You’ve dragged me to far-flung places in search for new additions to your collection of rare rum bottles. And I know that you speak ancient Greek.”

“You say that like you expect me to be ashamed of any of those things.”

“All I’m saying is that you can’t fool me with your leather jackets and your moves, I know that you’re a total nerd.”

“Nerds are cool, Swan.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jones.”

“I don’t have to help you get your flat ready for your party, you know?”

Emma leaps out of bed and throws an arm around his shoulder. “Oh but you will, because I’m your very best friend and you love me.” She gives him her best puppy dog eyes and he shakes his head at her, laughing. She heads out of her room to start getting her apartment ready, not noticing the longing look Killian sends her way.

It’s much later and the party’s in full flow when Zelena announces that they should play spin the bottle. Emma’s buzzed, but not quite enough to not think that that’s a good idea.

“What are we, 12?” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. Zelena’s eyes flash with fury leaving Emma wondering if she had inadvertently interrupted a scheme for the redhead to hook up with someone.

“How about truth or dare?” Killian suggests and Zelena grins wickedly. Emma’s relieved that she’s pleased, her demeanour is so deranged when she’s in a bad mood that it’s mildly terrifying. (So much so that Killian jokingly calls her the Wicked Witch.)

Emma’s not sure how it turned into some kind of excuse for all their friends to make out, but it has. And most of them seem to be intent on making out with (or rather forcing other people to make out with) Killian. It’s not that she’s jealous, but it was all just so awkward.

She had enough of the Tink/Killian drama back when they were hooking up and who’s to say the nostalgic kiss wasn’t going to restart that train wreck? (She’ll never forget asking Killian how they could stand to be in the same room for long enough to fuck. Apparently constant fucking had replaced constant bickering as “she’s less irritating when her mouth is otherwise engaged”. She really wished she hadn’t asked and didn’t want a repeat of it all.) Ruby got overly handsy in a way that didn’t feel quite decent in a room full of people and if it made her uncomfortable, she’s sure Killian felt the same (however into it he seemed). And seeing him lock lips with David felt weirdly like watching him with her dad - it was just wrong.

Really she should have seen it coming. Of course someone would dare Killian to suck face with her. Everyone was always asking why they weren’t a couple anyway, meddling and trying to push them together. What she couldn’t have predicted is that he would forfeit the dare in favour of a truth. And of course Zelena shoots back with the obvious question: “you’ve kissed half the room already, why not Emma too?”

Emma runs out of the room before he can reply. She really doesn’t want to hear this. She’s already been humiliated enough.

“Swan! Swan! Bloody hell, stop. Emma!”

“Save it, Killian. I don’t want to know.” He gently catches her arm with the hook of his prosthetic.

“But I need to tell you. You think I wouldn’t kiss you because I don’t want you? It’s because I want you too much.” His eyes are so beautiful and desperate, searching her face for some sign of understanding. Emma feels her cheeks wet with tears, surely he can’t mean it like that? That the most secret wish of her heart has come true - he wants to be with her? “You’re worth more than some drunken kiss in front of all our friends. When I kiss you, Emma,” he steps closer, “and I will kiss you, it won’t be because of any stupid dare. It will be because you want me.”

Emma’s breathless with the sincerity of his words. She sways closer, but he steps back.

“Not today,” he says with a small smile and boops her nose. “Let’s wait until I know for sure that this isn’t just some rum-soaked spell, aye? Come, let’s get back to your party, I believe I need to wreak my revenge on the Wicked Witch. Now, what shall I dare her to do?”

He slings an arm over her shoulder and leads her back to her apartment. Neither one of them noticing the green mist that creeps down the corridor behind them.

***

“Jesus,” Zelena mutters, rolling her eyes. “What have they got against happiness? Surely it shouldn’t be so hard to get two people to kiss?” She grins as an idea comes to her. “Maybe I’ve been going wrong trying to give them romance. All I need is a setup where they have to kiss after all.”

She waves her hand and, unbeknownst to them, Emma Swan and Killian Jones’ lives change again.

***

A hammering on her front door interrupts Emma’s breakfast. She stomps to answer it, unimpressed by the distraction from her morning pancakes.

She opens the door to a pirate decked out in leather complete with a hook. She’d call him handsome, if he didn’t look so ridiculous.

“Emma Swan?”

Her eyes narrow in confusion. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Captain Hook, here to deliver a message of deepest affection from good Sir Walsh to his lady love, Swan.” Emma’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I’m a kissogram,” he explains with what Emma assumes is meant to be a wink, although it’s really a lopsided blink. His tongue runs along his lips, and he moves forward.

Emma moves on pure instinct, kneeing the man in the groin and shoving him back with one hand. He staggers backwards, doubling over in pain. Emma almost feels guilty, but he did just try to force his lips on hers. Kissogram or not, that’s assault in her books.

She shuts the door behind her and shakes her head. She really needs to have words with Walsh about acceptable displays of affection. Single roses and dinner dates, good, kissograms and oversized helium balloon bouquets, bad.

God, he’s probably the type to present her with an engagement ring in her dessert. She should probably end it before they get to that stage. She saunters back to her pancakes, forgetting all about the pirate outside her door.

***

“Oh for God’s sake, what is it going to take to get these two to kiss?!” wails Zelena. “Anyone would think that they don’t want to be happy!”

“You know, there are simpler ways to get rid of the pirate and the Saviour than playing matchmaker,” Gold mutters darkly. It’s not that he actually wants Zelena to succeed, but this is getting tiresome.

He watches her warily as a wicked smile unfurls across her lips. “I’ve had an excellent idea. Use their past against them.” She conjures up her crystal ball, and sees what she needs at once. “Ah yes, Neverland.”

***

Emma’s in a leafy grotto, skin damp from the sweat caused by the oppressive heat. Neverland. Her skin prickles. Why is she here again - and, more importantly, how?

“I thought he deserved a little credit.” She jumps, startled by the sound of her father’s voice. She watches as a scene from her memory plays out before her. Killian’s looking away from her, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. How had she never noticed before how bashful and uncomfortable their praise had made him?

Her mother toasts Hook, Regina refuses to, and now it’s her turn and she almost forgets herself. Manages to take the flask just before she drops it.

“To Hook.” That’s what she says, right? That’s what she’s meant to say. She’ll thank him for saving David, he’ll taunt her to deflect from how he feels, and they’ll kiss and everything will change.

(God, how had she not seen it at the time? It’s so clear now. When she kisses him, he’ll realise that he’s opened his heart up to her, that he’s let go of his first love. It’s all too much pressure for a simple kiss.)

“Did you really save his life?” she hears the words coming out of her mouth, but she feels detached from it all.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Well, you aren’t exactly, how do you say it? Mates.” She cringes at the way she impersonates his accent. She isn’t very good at revealing her emotions, so here she is, undercutting the sentiment she’s trying to convey.

Gratitude.

Oh God, gratitude is in order… She has to change the script and fast. Dimly she’s aware that he’s stopped speaking and she should reply. It’s time for her to show her thanks. She’ll try to be sincere and Hook will feel as uncomfortable as she does. So she’ll kiss him. It’ll save them both from the awkwardness of the moment, but cause a whole lot more.

Until I met you…

She stares at him, silent, unsure what to say or do. His face morphs from sincerity to discomfort under her steely gaze, finally settling on concern.

“Is everything alright, love?”

“I don’t know, I -” There’s a gust of wind and a fine dust fills the air. It clings to her body and she inhales it, coughing as its sticky sweetness fills her nose and her lungs.

“Bloody hell.” He sighs out the words. The horror and frustration she hears in his breathy tone confuses her - so they’ve got a little dusty, it’s no big… She looks at him and it hits her. She’s never felt more aroused in her life and she needs to touch him, to kiss him, to feel his skin against hers…

“Stay away from me!” he moans, “run away, tie yourself to a bloody tree, just don’t come near me!”

“But I - I need - fuck -” She gasps and realises the truth of the words at once. I need to fuck him. The thought consumes her, overwhelms her. She tears at her clothes.

His hand and hook seize her wrists, forcing them behind her as she’s shoved against a tree. For one blessed moment his body is pressed against hers then he’s moving away, tying her to the tree.

“I should’ve known you’d like it rough, Captain.”

He stares at her then, half crazed with lust. He looks so delicious, she just needs a taste -

She leans closer to him and he must have mimicked her actions, because his lips are so close. “Not like this,” he pants and runs from her.

“Fuck.” She hears Zelena’s voice crying out through the trees as a swirl of green mist surrounds them.

***

Emma blinks around her in confusion. Her lust fades as she realises that she is back outside the Wicked Witch’s house with Killian by her side.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, biting her lip in embarrassment at the memory of what she had just said and done. His stance is defiant, but she can see the traces of a blush on his cheeks that let her know that he feels it too.

“I was being nice to you,” Zelena huffs, “offering you a world where you could just kiss your pirate all day long. Considering how desperate you are to leave Storybrooke, I thought that would make you happy, but you seem to want this miserable existence as the Saviour.”

“All of that was you?” Emma doesn’t understand Zelena. Of all the crazy schemes she’s come up against since coming to Storybrooke, this has got to be the strangest.

“Well, you two are so adorable, I assumed that you just needed a little romance to get you to kiss him, but you are so very stubborn. What’s the matter?” Zelena tilts her head to the side with an expression of mock concern. “Is he not very good at it?”

She remembers Neverland and how good it felt to kiss him. She stamps down the thought as soon as it occurs to her, focussing instead on the rage she feels over the whole situation.

“The next time you want to take my powers, why don’t you try cursing the lips of someone I’ll actually kiss?” Emma side eyes Killian, trying to ignore the lingering throbbing between her legs that proves her words a lie. He is studying his feet and whether it’s the shame of his curse or hurt at Emma’s words, she can’t be sure.

“I did try doing this the easy way, Emma, but I guess we’re stuck with the hard way. So Emma, you’ve got a choice: you can keep your magic that makes you oh-so-sad. Or you can save the man that you can’t wait to run away from.”

Gold flicks his wrist and Killian flies through the air. He lands face down in a watering trough, which of course is full.

Emma has whiplash from all the conflicting thoughts in her head. Anger at Zelena. Confusion as to how someone goes from inventing fantasy rom com lives for their enemies to straight up drowning them. Wondering what all the feelings she had in all those fantasies meant. And above it all absolute terror that she might be about to lose Killian.

She runs to his side and tries to pull him free from the water. Zelena’s monologuing at her but she tunes her out; she’s got a pirate to save.

He thrashes wildly, but she can’t free him until he goes limp. It’s then, after he’s already stopped breathing, that she yanks him out. His face is pale and she curses herself for not just kissing him before, when it would have been perfect. Even if it wasn’t real, she wouldn’t have to live with the memory of him looking like this, so close to death.

She shakes him, shouts at him. “Hook! Hook! Hook, wake up! Killian. Come back to me, Killian.” She doesn’t want to let everyone down by losing her power to save him, but what will her life be without him?

“Oh God, son of a bitch!” she yells out, swearing that she will find a way to hurt Zelena for what she’s done.

She leans down to breathe life back into him. She feels her magic drain out of her, and she hopes that it is enough. She’d give almost anything to save him.

“Hook, come back to me,” she whispers, stroking his face. He coughs, spitting out water and gasps for breath.

“Swan?” He raises his hand to his lips and looks at her in horror. “What did you do? What did you do?!”

It’s tempting to taunt him, point out that a little gratitude is in order, but she’s so relieved that he’s OK that she’ll let it slide just this once. She stares at him, feeling awkward now that she knows he’s safe. She gets to her feet and offers her hand to help him up. She manages to resist the urge to pull him in for a hug, but she squeezes his hand tight for just a moment before dropping it.

“Come on, let’s get back to the hospital,” she mutters, staring at the ground and trying not to think about everything that just happened.

***

Emma’s lying on her pillows, gloriously sated. She’s finally had sex with Captain Hook after they time travelled because the Wicked Witch opened a portal and they almost stopped her parents Snow White and Prince Charming from meeting. Some days she wants to claw her own eyes out about how ridiculous her life is, but today? Today, she just got laid and all she can do is giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Killian asks her sleepily.

“I just fucked Captain Hook.”

“Aye.”

She turns to him, and props her head up on her arm so she can look at him properly. “And it was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He grins and kisses her deeply. “It may have been the greatest moment of my long existence.”

He says it sincerely, but she can’t help but giggle again: she’s just so happy. “In all my fantasies, I never thought to account for your centuries of experience. How did the woman you slept with ever let you out of bed?”

“There was this one woman who tied me up. I thought it was all just kinky fun, but then she didn’t want to release me afterwards.”

“Oh yeah?” Emma arches her brow. She isn’t exactly jealous, she’s reaping the benefit of all his precious encounters and she is the one who brought it up. But still, it’s kind of odd to think of this man who is now - maybe, hopefully - hers with someone else. She’s just not quite ready to hear the intimate details.

“Luckily for you, I’m a hard man to keep tied down.” He seems to sense that it’s not wise to dwell on the subject so he turns to her with a devilish grin. “So tell me more about these fantasies of yours.”

“You already know some of them.”

He cocks an eyebrow at her. “I do?”

“Remember when Zelena went all rom com happy on us?” She stops short of mentioning why; it’s still something of a sore point. “Well when we were soulmates, I gathered that you got some of the highlights?”

“Oh yes.” He slowly and deliberately licks his lips. “You thought a lot about my oral skills as I recall. Were they everything you hoped for?”

“I don’t think you need the ego boost.”

“Oh I see, they were better, weren’t they?” Emma just smiles, honestly she didn’t know oral sex could feel that good, but she wasn’t kidding when she said he didn’t need the ego boost.

“It was kind of nice though wasn’t it?”

Killian looks offended and exclaims, “nice? I clearly did something wrong if all you can say is nice. Should I try again?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to say no to more oral, but I actually meant the whole soulmates thing. Being so connected? It felt good to be a part of something.”

“Oh, Swan.” He gently reaches out and pulls her towards him. She settles her head against his chest, and it feels perfect. “I preferred being your best friend.”

“Hmm?” She’d been lost in running her fingers through his chest hair and had temporarily lost track of their conversation.

“I liked the version of us where we’d been friends for years more.”

Emma thinks for a moment, oh right, the party with truth or dare.. She pushes up to glare at him. “Is that because you got to kiss everyone?” She tries to forget the memory of Hook and her dad passionately making out. She really, really does not want to think about it.

“I can remember vividly that I only had eyes for one person that night and if I had my way, my lips would have touched none other.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Emma says awkwardly, brushing off the compliment, even though she loves it. She drops her head back to his chest. “So if it wasn’t all the making out, why did you like that best?”

She feels him shrug. “It just felt more like us. We just understood and accepted each other, it was lovely.”

She considers that, it really was nice to already know each other inside out, but the closeness? That was all them. She looks up at him. “They were all us though, weren’t they? I always felt like me and we kept doing the same things over and over?”

“Aye. I can’t say that I appreciated all of that. I could’ve done without a repeat of you kicking me in the crown jewels because I tried to kiss you.”

“Zelena really was insane, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Killian shakes his head. “I don’t understand why she didn’t just dose us with sex pollen from the start.”

“Sex pollen?”

“The dust that coated us in Neverland? I had to tie you to a tree and run away.”

Even the memory of that feeling is intense. Emma wonders how Killian managed to resist. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fight that lust?”

“It wasn’t my first experience. I knew that it would fade with time and I couldn’t bear to take you like that. I may be a pirate, but I believe in good form, and that is not how one treats any lady, let alone the woman you love.”

Emma’s heart melts a little at this and she reaches up to kiss him softly. The kiss soon deepens, becomes wilder and more passionate. She pulls back from him, breathless. “Perhaps sometime we could try it together?”

“Sex pollen?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

She nods, biting her lip. “If that’s OK?”

He grins. “As you wish.”

She kisses him again hard, happy to be here, with him and thinking of all the thousands of ways their love story could have played out. One thing she’s sure of - whoever they are, whatever they’re doing, and however long they take to get there - they will always find each other.

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs fanfics #ouat ff #katie dub writes #never forget you #phira birthday extravaganza #katie dub arts

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